Trick-or-…treat?!?

Damn, this has been one hell of a Halloween. And I don’t mean that in the way of, “Damn, I spent all afternoon and/or night partying and my head feels like it’s about to explode.” Not that my head doesn’t feel that way. But I seriously feel that I could have been doing more productive things this Halloween, say, partying, or more seriously, watching horror films on the television while occasionally throwing candy at the neighborhood children. Is it totally wrong that I want some peace and quiet on the day of the year that seems to require the most hellraising and slow torture (read: death by small, candy-hungry children)? I don’t think that the pagans who originated this whole money sapping scheme actually had this entire plot in mind. They just wanted to… protect their crops and livestock and whatnot from evil spirits or whatever… ooh, scary. Although, I gotta say, when I saw that chick on Arthur say that she was going to dress up like a prom queen, I thought, Dang, girl’s got the right idea there. I mean, what’s scarier than a prom queen?(Besides Norman Bates. Damn, that was a scary movie. I admit it, I was 11, and I almost crapped my pants. I thought it was the scariest frickin thing I ever saw in my life. Maybe it was.)

But back to my suck-ass Halloween night. It really wasn’t that bad, just boring as hell. I went to some fair in Winter Garden where I went on a hay ride and probably got all kinds of ticks and fleas or whatever you can get from that hay-thing. It was boring, because there’s no countryin Winter Garden. If you come down here, or over here, or up here (depending on where you are), be sure to expect to see city, and not a very nice one at that. I don’t think Winter Garden is too spectacular, but whatever. Some places of downtown Orlando are worse, in my opinion. But I digress (again). The fair was stupid, so I lost my group and went to watch some Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow wanna-be hold a costume contest. The ghost of Marie Antoinette won the 7-10 division. I got even more bored. There were a lot of dogs there. I petted one that looked like a hot dog.  I got even more bored. I ended up finding my people and went home and the whole fair kind of sucked ass, except I got a lot of gum, which I kept in various parts of my person to keep me through the night. God knows I needed that sugar. Then I had to take N. and co. to go trick-or-treating around the neighborhood, which got old real fast, since it was already really late (to trick-or-treat) and people had a) already given away all their candy or b) wanted to give it all away to us. And since I am waaaaaaaay too old to trick-or-treat, I didn’t get any damn candy, which is fine by me, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there and go home. Which I was able to, a frickin hour later. It was actually more than an hour, but nobody cared, because their buckets were breaking, they were so full of candy. Me, I was just tired and hot and thirsty and had a headache because all the kids were yelling. N. had a tantrum on the middle of the sidewalk, which did not make things any better, but we took her home, and she tried to take G. Jr’s candy, which was one of the few entertaining things of the night. I love seeing kids fight over candy. She ended up saying that she “didn’t want any”, which was such a lie. She can’t lose. Whatever. Kids. And that is how I ended up here in my Superman boxers, about forty-five minutes after finishing this stupid-ass day, with no work done, and no candy for myself, except for a double bubble in my half-empty closet, and three mini-packets of popcorn. And dammit, let’s face it, even when they’re given out on Halloween, popcorn packets are not a form of candy.

It was SO not my fault.

I didn’t do any work yesterday. Or the day before. Or the day before that. Not that I expected to. But still, I feel guilty about it. If I hadn’t done my English essay one week early (by total accident! It’s not like I’m becoming responsible or anything…) and my European History presentation wasn’t due until Thursday, I’d be totally screwed. It’s not like I actually try to screw myself over with things like these, but it’s just that when you go over to visit your parents (or they come to visit you, or whatever), you end up being slightly counter-productive (in a completely loving way). Added to the fact that I’m a procrastinator (and loving it). Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to actually try to be productive. Imagine everything I could do… my room would be clean, I’d actually do my laundry when I needed to, I’d eat dinner at a normal time, I would turn in my work on time, maybe I’d even get a job (and keep it). And hell, I might even get to places on time! Lord know I do my best, but somehow, I’m always late… except I get to classes on time (and occasionally early) because I have to. But still, I don’t see my counter-productivity as a negative thing. I had a great weekend; I went to lunch in a nice Italian restaurant (Carraba’s, if you want to go, it’s near Clermont), I bought some stuff for my cell phone (which I lost and then found and then lost and then found again), and read a book. So I’m glad, because it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Plus the fact that my project was just moved back to this Thursday, as we speak. I speak. I write. Whatever.

Speaking of phones… I wonder why I have such bad luck with them. I think I may have run through more than 10 phones since age 11. What’s up with that? I mean, I’m constantly losing them, getting water/soda/food in them, and getting them run over. I think I should stop getting nice phones and just get crap phones, so if they get lost or whatever, it really won’t matter (to me, at least). Seriously, my second to last phone got clogged with Lindt chocolate and my last phone got run over by an Audi. Mind you, this was in the span of, oh, maybe, three months? I’m starting to think that maybe it’s not so much my fault as much as sheer bad luck. Who the hell gets their phone run over? That’s just plain, downright wrong. The lady that ran over my phone should be ashamed of herself. She should give me her car as compensation.

I have a confession to make….!

This is my confession: That I have given up all hope regarding my classes and resigned myself to a life of pure enjoyment in which I will live vicariously through several internet personalities, since I cannot leave my house as of now.

I’m just kidding. But really, I’ve given up hope on school, because when I try, I get bad grades, and when I don’t try, I get better grades, but they’re never great. So I’ve given up hope on school, and it’s gonna be all fun now. Except no internet personalities, because that’s just creepy.

I think I’m a smart model

I generally try to to avoid watching too much television and staying up too late, because I believe that aforesaid actions will probably lead to my academic demise. That said, I usually manage to accomplish the latter (staying up too late, not academic demise… although I do see some of that in my near future) during the week, and the former on Friday nights. I blame it on cruel teachers and VH1. I usually don’t get my work done until past midnight, which means I’m sitting in Physics the next morning, half-asleep while the teacher reviews for the upcoming test. Which I promptly fail. And then I try to catch up on whatever we did when I fell asleep, but then I fall behind on the current work, and then I fall asleep at… 2 am. Vicious cycle, indeed. But onto a more important matter than my academic shortcomings… VH1.

VH1, VH1, VH1. Ah… what a channel. It blows MTV out of the water (in my opinion). Better than Spike TV, FX, and, dare I say it, Comedy Central. Certainly better than the Disney Channel (except for when Disney plays Canadian TV shows. Then it’s a tie). I can watch VH1 for hours, watch shows that I thought I would hate (I Love New York 2, anyone?), even watch reruns (That might be stretching it. I hate reruns. Even those of my favorite shows). This week, I turned on the television to see what was on, and I see “America’s Most Smartest Model.”

Ahhh, America’s Most Smartest Model. I originally watched this show because I thought, ooh, fun, let’s make fun of stupid people who think they’re smart. Call me stupid, a sucker for hot models with great abs, or just dumbed down by television- but, disturbingly enough, I’ve begun to actually… enjoy this show. It’s almost scary. You see, I hate models. I think they’re absolutely stupid. That’s actually why I watched this show, so I could laugh at them because they actually thought they were intelligent. BUT THEY KNOW THINGS! Take Daniel, for instance. Apparently, he’s a terrible model. I can’t argue with Mary Alice’s claim that his outfit and hair sucked in the second challenge. But he’s actually smart! He won the spelling bee with a word that I don’t think I could spell! I mean, some of these models went to college. I think that most of them got some form of higher education, actually! It’s amazing- they’re not as stupid as I thought.

Mary Alice Stephenson hosts the show and her cohost is- who could be better- Ben Stein. (Beuler… Beuler… Anyone?… Anyone?…) I love the way he eliminates people. They don’t get what he’s saying. End of Episode 1: “Like the leg bones of a cetacean mammal, you are now vestigial.” I won’t tell you who is eliminated, but I assure you, non-reaction is great. (Meaning, they don’t realize they’ve been eliminated).

Run-through of the charming characters (or at least the ones that stick out… and this does also include what we see of their personalities from Episode 2):

• Rachel Myers: Total bitch; thinks she’s smart; surprised when she misses a question, but someone dumber than her gets it right; has the hots for VJ; is described by VJ as a “fox”; seems easier than a four-piece jigsaw puzzle; did I mention she’s a selfish bitch?
• VJ: Is hot; but is also an asshole; very selfish; Rachel wants him; he and Rachel seem to have a lot of “chemistry”; thinks he’s awesome
• Gaston: Kind of an asshole, but not as much as other people in the house; wants the girls in the house to do porn with each other; is especially famous for the line “dirty penis”(featured in Episode 1, if you’re curious); thinks he’s good at picking up girls, but he’s not
• Jesse: Is criticized incessantly by Mary Alice (among other judges) for being “fat”
• Andre: From the Soviet Union! What an asshole; he’s the most disliked in the house; thinks he’s better than everyone else; very hot; very bad attitude; practically everything he says makes an excellent quote (Example: Jesse: “Do you snore?” Andre: “No, but I masturbate.”)
• Mandy Lynn: Is the dumbest one in the house; she’s done a lot of lingerie modeling; never done runway modeling “with her clothes on”; thinks she has a shot; Ben seems to (in Andre’s words) “like her breasts”; Mary Alice wants to make her a pet project; she (Mandy Lynn) has once said that she thinks she’s a “smart model”
• Jamie: Is orange. ‘Nuff said
• Rachael Murphy: Is Australian; did a photo shoot with Pickel (she was a… see the show to find out)
• Jeff Pickel: Pickel, not Pickle; did a photo shoot with Rachael (I wouldn’t mention it, but it’s slightly important)
• Brett: Is hot; knows his elements (from the periodic table, that is)
• Lisa: Had the misfortune of working with Andre (they fought); the photo shoot was cool

Everyone else is kind of whatever to me. These are the only people I really care about, for better or worse. The thing is (and it really scares me), I’m starting not to hate Mandy Lynn as much as I thought. Which is really weird, since the first time I saw her, I was like, Bitch, what are you doing?!? Get off that show, it’s for smart people, not idiots like you. She has that “Eee-hee-hee-hee” laughter that’s all high and ditzy and these lips that are so surgically enhanced, it hurts to look at them (“You know, it’s not collagen, it’s silicone.”) and a disproportionately tiny waist and huge breasts. It’s horrible. You can’t even understand what she’s saying a lot of the time, because of aforesaid lips… and…oh, it’s just nasty! But you know what? Despite her “I think I’m a smart model” moments and Andre’s “That’s a lie. He just likes her breasts.” comments, I think I may actually be starting to… accept the little centerfold. Could it be? Stay tuned to find out.

Quotes (of the day, the week… whatever you want):

“God Almighty, the BBC is weird!”

(That’s actually my history teacher, not AMSM)

“I have a $6000 apartment in Times Square! I have a rare dog!”

(Andre, AMSM, Episode 1)

“At this point in the game, we’re stil bare ass f***ing naked”

(Jesse, AMSM, Episode 2)

“I think I’m a smart model.”

(Mandy Lynn, AMSM, Episode 2)

“Pierre?”

(Rachel Myers, AMSM, Episode 2; The question was, what was Napoleon Bonaparte’s last name. Although they didn’t give away the answer. But what other “petit, French” rulers are there that happen to be named “Napoleon”?)

More to come! Watch the show! Get the facebook app! Go AMSM crazy! Go to vh1.com and become obsessed with that damn show! You know you want to! (I do, at least)

The Berenstein Bears and the case of the too much television

I have watched waaaaay too much television for my own good today. I got two pages of physics homework done and managed to stain two articles of clothing and was completely oblivious, which resulted in other such disasters. And thus, I still have a paper due for tomorrow, I have to study calculus, and I still have absolutely no idea what I did for physics. Carlos Mencia is not a good physics teacher. Come to think of it, neither is “I love New York” nor “America’s Most Smartest Model.” Maybe I should start doing things instead of sitting around and procrastinating.

Quotes of the day:

“Don’t be silly; just because he’s really, really gay, it doesn’t mean he’ll tell the truth.”

(Samantha Bee, The Daily Show. I mean no disrespect to gay people, it’s just what she said.)

“All I’m saying is that people from Uruguay are human garbage.”

(Steve Colbert. Hey, it was funny. I’m not trying to be racist.) 

“The problem with America is that there’s too many stupid people and nobody to eat them.”

(Carlos Mencia)

I just broke my damn project again… what the hell.

Aggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh.

Words cannot begin to define my pain and agony at this moment. At least not coherent words. Incomprehensible howl of agony? Check. Frustrated 3-year-old tantrum? Check. Binge-eating due to stress? Check. Destroyed physics project? Check. I am angry. No. I am furious. I worked my ass off on this stupid project which got me absolutely nowhere in my knoweldge of physics and even less in my pursuit of finishing my homework and now that damn project is completely and utterly destroyed. Shoot me. Shoot it. Plus, I have an English paper to write, a Physics lab to finish, and… the doorbell just rung. Argh.

You can’t give me your f***ing Daughter.

So this afternoon I finished A Million Little Pieces by James Frey. I highly recommend it, despite allegations (actually, they were true) that Frey had fabricated “elements of his memoir.” Yes, it is a memoir, which goes against what I usually like to read, but it was in the violence section of the library, so I had no problem with picking it up and taking it home with me. And it was sooo colorful…. The fact that it was in Oprah’s Book Club actually bothered me, since I kind of hate Oprah, but I was like, whatever, I guess that just means it’s not a really badly written book. So I started reading it and couldn’t put it down and – this maybe the only time I’ve done this except for the Harry Potter series – I did not peek at the back of the book. OK, maybe I did, but it was just a little. I just wanted to check what happened to a couple of people. BUT I COULDN’T DO IT! I didn’t want to ruin it for myself, so I just read it through. Excellently written (although it can be hella depressing and freaky at times) and I don’t care if it was all fabricated, it was a good read. I’m waiting for Frey’s next book to come out, but since they say it’s not coming out until summer ’08, I guess I’ll just have his other memoir to read. Although it kind of ruins it for me, now that I know that it’s fake. Parts of it, at least. I just want to ignore that because I half fell in love with that priest-beating, glue-sniffing, alcohol-imbibing crackhead along the course of the book. And maybe it wasn’t the real James Frey. And I’m pretty sure it’s not the current 38-year-old, watered down, sober version of him. I think it’s all the drama and lack of quotation marks and youth and drugs and the Fury and all that good stuff. But then again, it might have been that I fell in love with the book, too. I think I did. How do I know? I read page 138. It was beautiful. Read, if you want.

What’s this?

My Daughter.

She’s beautiful, but I don’t want a picture of your daughter.

That’s not it.

Then what is it?

I want to giver her to you. You can do whatever you want to her.

Goddamn, John.

You don’t like her?

You can’t give me your f***ing Daughter.

Oh, the magic. I love this book. It is like poetry to me. It is poetry to me. I think one of these days, I’m just going to disappear into another world with a 23-year old recovering crack addict… Ah, wouldn’t that be nice… 

Quote of the day:

I have no problem smoking pot with a moose, if that’s what you’re suggesting.

(Comment from James Frey’s discussion board)

Thank you for cutting my mic

You know, living in Florida for over two months, you would think that I would have a better knowledge of what’s going on here. But then again, I never really had a spectacular sense of direction (or anything of the sort) to begin with, so is that surprising? I mean, I get lost on the I-4 at least twice a week coming back from school, and the other half of the time, it’s just sheer dumb luck. But I digress. I felt like it would be appropriate to point out that it wasn’t until about five minutes ago that I found out that the tasering (not tasing) incident happened at U.F. I wonder if this is something I should have known, especially considering (a) I live here (b) I watched Best Week Ever on VH1 a fortnight ago, and they were going on and on about it. I think I just saw it as an amusing incident, and yeah, whatever. The only reason I bring it up is that in English, we heard a podcast about how it was this whole big thing and Kerry was there (which of course you would know, if you were aware of anything in the news) and whether the issue was a police issue or a freedom of speech issue. I think that it would be totally retarded (like Philip IV’s son) for this to turn into some big legal issue or whatnot. The police was trying to keep the guy under control, but the guy did have the right to express his opinion. They shouldn’t have gone on for so long, sure, but it didn’t infringe on his rights completely. There are rules, you know. Just my opinion.

Quote of the day:

“He’s retarded! Put him in a cage!”

(On Philip IV’s retarded son. Please do not be offended if you or anyone you know is retarded. I only aim to entertain.)