Sight Unseen

Semester in Review via iPod Playlist

2007-12-16T18:44:00.000-06:00

Today I finally managed to overcome laziness, weather, and general impetus to stay in Norman and drove back to AR. And the trip went well, for once - no major pre-trip screw-ups, no iced-up roads, no engines falling out, etc.

Anyway, I listened to my "A Drivetime Mix" playlist as I drove. (I only named it "A Drivetime Mix so it'll always be at the top of the list). It's an ever-changing collection of whatever I'm into at the time, and I clean it up every few months or so. As I'm listening, I realized that it was kind of a "semester in review" sort of thing - nearly every song had some sort of memory or moment attached to it. I decided to catalogue some of my favorite moments here.

Hello - Hawk Nelson: Frontier City with Jules and Jack. Sibling rivalry, outdoor concert, and the neverending word games in the grass.
Stronger - Kanye West: scaring Sweetie in the WalMart parking lot. (See? Told you that you knew the obnoxious rap song I meant ...)
Go That Far - Bret Michaels Band: Rock of Love night with my girls! Yelling at Lacey and laughing at Bret. Oh, Bret.
When You Were Young - The Killers: finally five-starring a Guitar Hero song on hard. Never before has my pinky finger been so useful.
Show Me the Money - Petey Pablo: Julie's gangsta theme. Rocking out in the car until people around us just have to look.
Suck My Kiss - Red Hot Chili Peppers: Alyson and Lola finally getting into the GH craze, shouting "suck my kiss!" at the television
Paranoid - Black Sabbath: late-night Rock Band at Kevin and Joe's. The guys makes the girls sing hard rock songs, and the girls makes the guys sing "Roxanne."
Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys: Lola, totally sober, singing songs like a drunk person. "Hol'day in C'MBODIA!"
Welcome Home - Coheed and Cambria: venting a little stress by belting angry revenge-song lyrics; taking Rock Band to a whole new level by both singing the vocals and playing the main guitar part simultaneously. Kneel, for I am truly a Rock-Band badass.
Talk Dirty to Me - Poison: more Rock of Love goodness; also, botched lyrics ("At the drive-in, in the old man's corpse" rather than "old man's Ford.")
Welcome to the Jungle - Guns n Roses: finally, FINALLY, beating the guitar battle with Slash and shouting celebratory swears at the television; also, my discovery that I play better standing on my couch. The taller you are, the harder you can rock apparently.

There are some other amazing memories as well, although they come without a theme song. Fangirling out about ANTM with Allie, casino night at Riverwind (I guess that does have a theme song ... Alyson singing "Ladies' Night"), Joe offending people of all creeds and races at IHOP, endless quoting of Wizard People/Dr. Tran/youtube videos, late-night WalMart runs (why? because it's THERE!), and any post-midnight phone call from Julie. They always mean good things.

This has been easily one of the best semester of my college life, due in large part to the people involved. Mel, for helping to make me a published writer and for goading me until I wrote a 50,000 word novel; my fellow intro classmates, who took awesome lessons from Batman and came out all the better because of it; my family, for being there any time I need them; the guys, for being the newest facet of my social life and for making nearly every night memorable; and, of course, my girls. You ladies made this semester completely badass, and I love yall!

Oh, and thanks to Fig (my bug). For not falling apart this time around. =)

No (Dallas) Love: Redux

2007-11-24T10:59:00.000-06:00

Yall may remember a post I did a month or so back about my terrible luck flying home for visits?

It hasn't changed.

Wednesday morning, I got up at about 7 am (and, seeing as I was out late the night before, this was not a fun concept). My flight was supposed to leave at 10, and I was gonna get in town shortly after noon.

At 6 pm, I finally, finally straggled into the Little Rock Airport. Finally. I kid you not; it took that long to go from OKC to Dallas to LR.

The problem was that a storm hit LR right when our flight was supposed to land. We circled the city for nearly 45 minutes before the pilot announced we were low on fuel and were going to divert to Tulsa.

Tulsa. Putting me essentially right back where I'd started hours ago. So we flew to Tulsa, refueled, chilled on the tarmac, and got back in the air way too long afterwards.

Once again, I could have driven here and back again in the time it took me to simply fly here. You can be damn sure I'll be driving home for Christmas break (and all the others too, if I can swing it). I'm tired of my travel being in hands other than my own.

On the plus side, I did get to sleep in a chair instead of on the floor of the Dallas Love airport thsi time around. What a difference, man.

The Mist To Be Missed

2007-11-22T19:20:00.001-06:00

I apologize for how quiet this blog's been lately. My responsibilities caught up to me, and I've been completely swamped getting them all covered. Hopefully I'll be back to regular updates after this.

Today, my family and I went to see The Mist after Thanksgiving lunch. We knew it wasn't going to be anything uplifting, but we love Stephen King and The Mist has long been one of our favorites.

Folks, don't go see The Mist.

Seriously.

The story's good when the movie keeps with the novella's line, but there was a ton of unexpected gore and the CG, while decent, showed a whole lot of cheesy baddies that would have been scary had they been seen less. To top it all off, the ending was the most wrenchingly painful thing I've seen in a long time.

And actually, seeing as last Monday my apartment's parking lot was completely smothered in pea-soup-style mist, I'm quite glad I hadn't seen the movie at that point. I would've decided "the hell with this" and gone back to bed. Sorry Mel, I do love Intro, but I'm not gonna wade through face-ripping-baddie-filled mist to get there.

However! I did have a hardcore fangirl moment at the beginning of the movie. The main character is an artist who creates movie posters and such. At the movie's opening, he's working on an image of a gun-carrying man. The more I look at the man, the more familiar he gets. Then we see the rose being painted next to him, and I about hit the roof. It was Roland! King's gunslinger, right there on the canvas! It seems like a clever and backhanded way for King to get people talking about a Dark Tower movie/miniseries.

I can only hope they do it better justice than they did The Mist ...

Hardcore Bug

2007-10-28T20:48:00.000-05:00

More fun at WalMart today.

I saw a VW Beetle leaving the lot as I got there. It was cute and yellow and bumper-stickered, as so many Bugs are; however, the windows were rolled down and the driver was BLASTING deathmetal.

That's right - the sweet, free-spirit car was zooming around blaring "HATEANDDEATHANDKILLANDMAIMANDYAAAAAAAAAAH!" I thought it was damn funny.

I need to go to WalMart more often. They have such great characters there.

The Brattiest Brat to Ever Brat

2007-10-19T13:41:00.000-05:00

This morning, I got up and headed to WalMart for a quick grocery run. I was low on some essentials, and it was about to be a bad situation.

I do my shopping and head out to my car to load it all up. Parked beside me is a woman, also loading groceries, and her daughter, probably ten years old and blonde, and wearing a shirt with a rather trampy-looking poodle which reads, "Sweetie." Shirts like that bug me - show me, don't tell me. Girls in "sweetie" and "princess" shirts generally tend to be the opposite of that label.

I pop the trunk and start moving bags. Out of nowhere, the little girl goes, "Me Gles? Megg Les? I don't understand." After a minute, I realize she's trying to sound out my license plate: Meggles, an old nickname of mine that, seeing as it's on my license plate, I can't quite shake. Gotta get a new plate. This one destroys my credibility.

So Sweetie keeps trying to sound out "Meggles" to get a response out of me. I just tune her out. Suddenly, she looks right at me and says, "What a stupid license plate. Why would anyone put something so dumb on their car?" as if I can't hear her.

She then moves on to my clothes. "Why would someone wear black on a sunny day?" she postulates to the air. "People like that are so depressing." I look down at my black-and-gold camisole and cropped black jacket and think, bitch!

This little critic goes on to pick at my car (who drive a blue car?), my groceries (is all that for just one person?) and my makeup (black around people's eyes makes them look like raccoons). That last one stung - I know my face is awfully delicate for black eyeliner, but I think it's a good look for something different! Plus it gives me sex appeal: something a ten-year-old little stick knows nothing about.

This girl just kept going and going. I was just waiting for the little brat to go into more personal details, like, "Fight Club is not a funny movie! Arrested Development was canceled for a reason! Your antiquated Christian ideals are laughable!"

On top of all that, her mother was right there! And Mrs. Sweetie didn't have a word to say. Either she was ignoring her precocious little darling, or she didn't realize the person her daughter was lampooning was all of three feet away, listening to every word. No, Mrs. Sweetie just kept loading her groceries in a slow, defeated way without a word.

What I really wanted to do was roll up a magazine, pop Sweetie on the nose like a disobedient dog, and tell the mom to retrain her puppy. Instead, I opted for a little psychological warfare.

I got into my car, cracked the windows, and delved into my iPod. I turned on the most obnoxious rap song in my iPod's arsenal, the one that makes my whole car vibrate with the bass. You know the one I mean. While I could still see Sweetie's lips moving, I could no longer hear her at least. Quiet, sweetie - Kanye's talking.

I backed slowly out, keeping tabs on Little Miss Thang without ever looking directly at her. The music's still pumping, Mrs. Sweetie's still oblivious, and Sweetie is turning like a little radar dish to keep an eye on me. Right before I drive away, I suddenly snap my head around and lock eyes with the little brat. I point to my eyes, then point to her - got my eeeeeeyes on you, baby. The kid's eyes get HUGE and she yells something that can only be "Moooooooooom!!" But Mama Sweetie is still preoccupied with the groceries,so she is left to wail alone as I race out of the WalMart lot all gangbusters.

Someone's gonna be looking over her shoulder for a few days now. Sorry, Sweetie! But a little childhood trauma is said to do wonders for one's disposition.

Language Sponge

2007-10-18T11:12:00.000-05:00

Last night, I was determined to get out another 800 words on my novel. However, I have internet ADD. Things didn't go quite the way I'd hoped.

I'd started reading a new webcomic, Ctrl-Alt-Del, the other day. I've had a lot of people recommend it to me, and I finally decided to take a little time and page through the archives. And I loved it! It's a gaming comic like Penny Arcade, except it doesn't make me feel like a noob!

So last night, I decided to read a few strips. And then just a few more. And maybe just another story arc, until boom. I caught up to the current strips. Five years worth of comics, and I powered right through it.

Once I realized I'd caught up to the present and blown most of my evening, I decided to stay up a little later and do some writing anyway. But after all that comic reading, all I could do... was write witty banter.

I was trying to write this tense, suspenseful scene, but I kept turning out these horribly corny Schwarzenegger-esque puns and action-movie style bravado! It was totally wrong for the scene. Finally I deleted my sad, sad attempt and called it a night.

The problem with me is I am a language sponge. The longer I spend around someone, the more I pick up their talking habits. For instance, my friend Lola is forever telling people and things that they need to calm down! And now, a year into our friendship, I'm doing it too. My friend Julie tends to maow at people to get their attention; I catch myself doing it too.

It's the same with movies and books. After watching the Pirates movies, I talk in an up-and-down Jack Sparrow sort of way; after watching Wizard People, I drag aaaall my seeentences ouuut like Brad Neely. After reading the Dark Tower books, I keep catching myself wanting to use the High Speech; thee-ing and thou-ing and thankee, sai and all that.

I think it may be a throwback to my drama days ... when we did Steel Magnolias, I spent two months with a drawl so thick I was nigh incomprehensible at times. It's not even a conscious decision to affect these different speaking styles; it just sort of creeps in sometimes.

I guess this means I need to better choose my media while I'm writing this novel. No sense in getting my genres all screwed around.

Zombie

2007-10-13T04:51:00.000-05:00

I am up way, way too late. Check the timestamp at the bottom: it's nearly 5 am. I'm not on good terms with 5 am, but tonight's just been one of those nights.

I actually went to bed earlier. I had a slow, solo sort of day, and everyone else had plans tonight except me. I got to feeling kind of lonely so I opted to go on to bed and not dwell on it. At about 2:30 am, my phone rings.

Me: Mmmph ... 'llo?
Julie: Megan! Zombies in the park! It's like magic! You have to get up!
Me: .... but--
Julie: Okay-great-I'll-see-you-here-in-ten-minutes-bye!!
*click*

Now while that may seem like gibberish, I speak Julie. I knew exactly what she was trying to tell me.

Zombie is a concoction our group of friends developed during Night Games (actually proposed by the ragged, shambling guy in the picture there). It's sort of like tag - one person's it, the rest run from them. Except when whoever's it catches someone, they bite them (we're a close-knit group, but bites are generally restricted to arms and shoulders). Boom. Two zombies.

These two keep going, chasing down and biting the non-zombies. It becomes exponential after a while, and the last man standing wins and gets to be the starting zombie next round. It can be kind of scary - you see someone once, and they're running and hiding besides you, then a few minutes later they've been turned and they're coming after you. It's got a nice horror-movie sort of twist to it.

Also, zombies have to shamble around and groan a lot. You can be slow, Night-of-the-Living-Dead zombies or Dawn-of-the-Dead sprinting zombies. It must look really strange to anyone passing by, but it's late. No one frequents parks at that time of night, save for us.

Anyway, it has been awhile since we had Night Games, and I hadn't been sleeping that well anyway. I got up, got dressed, and met the group at our usual spot. And then proceeded to chase and bite people for three hours straight.

It really is fun, no one just goes out and plays like that at our age. I really hope to make a habit of it.

But in the meantime, it's 5 am. And I am wiiiiiide awake. This does not bode well for my sleep schedule, but it's so worth it. Night Games make my weekends great.

The WTF Moment

2007-10-09T17:27:00.001-05:00

Today I'd like to discuss something I call "the WTF Moment." WTF Moments occur when people say something so far departed from the conversation at hand or so out-of-the-blue that you can't figure out how they reached the subject.

There's no graceful way to ask the speaker to explain himself, and generally these statements either create uncomfortable conversation vacuums or result in a total brick wall which stops the conversation dead until someone can awkwardly steer the talk back in a less WTF direction.

It's not that I'm against discussing the bizarre or the taboo - I'll talk about anything you want to talk about, so long as it's brought up in a way where I can understand the train of thought. But when someone turns to me and drops an unprecedented conversation topic out of nowhere, I have two general reactions - I either nod slowly and uncomfortably until I can regain my footing, or I act like I didn't hear them in the first place. If they really want to discuss it, they can try again in a much clearer way.

This afternoon, I had a hardcore WTF moment. Tuesdays and Thursdays, I have my honors class. The honors department in general tends to attract an eclectic group of students, and my current class (Androids, Aliens, Robots and Cyborgs: The Other in Science Fiction) increases that factor tenfold.

I got to class early (mistake) and sat down to re-read a few passages from the book we were currently discussing. A few minutes later, one of my classmates (way, way left of center, this one) came in and took a seat right beside me.

After a moment of silence, he heaved a huge, wistful sigh and said tragically, "I miss the dinosaurs."

And that was all. Seriously.

I had to look around the room - there were no book, posters, or other media that would prompt "dinosaurs." Nothing I was wearing or reading would suggest "dinosaurs," and the same goes for him. Eventually I ascertained that no, there wasn't a damn thing in the room with any remote connection that would make him nostalgic for dinosaurs.

By now, about a full minute of silence had passed; it was waaaay too late for me to ask him why, exactly, he missed the dinosaurs. Moreover, I honestly didn't want to know the answer to that question - this guy intimidates me in ways I can't explain, and his effort at a conversation starter really wasn't doing it for me.

Thankfully, a guy friend of mine showed up for class right at that penultimate awkward moment and asked me to join him outside while he had a quick smoke. I can't stand cigarette smoke; however, I'd rather brave the secondhand smoke and chat with a friend than sit in class awkwardly trying not to notice dinosaur-guy trying to catch my eye.

By the time we got back, it was time for class to start up and my new seatmate had apparently forgotten his melancholy memories of those good ol' Jurassic days. Thank God for small things.

I < / 3 Housekeeping

2007-10-07T21:28:00.001-05:00

I do NOT love housekeeping.

I just got back in to my apartment after having been out of town since Thursday morning. I got out my keys to unlock the door.

Except it's already fucking unlocked.

Apparently, after cleaning my apartment Thursday afternoon, the housekeeping women left my apartment unlocked.

For three days straight.

I am absolutely furious. I could have been robbed stone blind! I had to search my whole apartment to ensure that A) my shit wasn't stolen, and B) no one was hiding in my apartment. Thankfully, everything is as it was when I left.

Normally, I take time with these posts to make sure they're articulate and clever; however, I'm apoplectic right now. I am without words (and that's saying something for me).

Tomorrow, I will be going into the Housing office and raising a little hell until they can tell me what they're going to do about this. I know I'm not the first - a friend of mine also lives in my complex, and came back to an unlocked place.

Not cool, Housekeeping. Not cool.

Watch out for Hop-ons (you're gonna get some Hop-ons)

2007-10-05T00:04:00.000-05:00

This is a quick post - I've been up since 6 am and I am fading fast, but this is such a great fluke thing that I have to share it before the funny wears off.

The other day, I bought a pair of magnetic earrings. I sort of need them for a Halloween costume, but I also like the idea of looking a little edgier than I currently do without all that unpleasant hole-poking. I have my lobes pierced, and that's fine; the idea of piercing my cartilage, however, makes me a touch squeamish.

Anyway, I decided to wear one home today and see if my parents clued in. Sadly, I knocked it loose when answering my phone and the magnetic back tumbled away. I started to look around for it on the floor, but realized I looked crazy crawling around on the airport floor. For all I knew, the little magnetic bit had snapped onto someone's suitcase, or underneath a table leg. I gave the back up for lost and opted to save the piece I had (I'm kind of a magpie; shiny objects are hoard-worthy).

So I spent all day traveling home and catching up with my family, and a few minutes ago I finally got upstairs to get undressed and grab a shower before bed.

And there, magnetized firmly to the underwire of my bra, was the back of the earring.

Apparently when I knocked it loose, it rolled down the front of my shirt and caught on the metal underwire. It just kind of hopped on and hung out there all day, and I had absolutely no clue.

Migrating accessories - who knew?

Edit: Today, being more awake, I remembered an incident last fall that also involved migrating accessories, although on a slightly more noticeable scale.

The purse I carried back then had a velcro clasp on it, and somehow I left the house one day with a pair of underwear stuck to it. Not even sexy or cute underwear - no, it had to be a painfully ugly pair of granny-panties that is NEVER supposed to see the light of day. Those things are, in all honesty, a rape deterrent in and of themselves.

And no, I didn't immediately clue in to my little hop-on. I rode the CART shuttle, sat around the South Oval, and walked to class before I noticed them and stuffed them safely out of sight, actually. God only knows how many people spent the rest of the day snickering about the poor clueless girl they saw on the bus with the thunderpants hanging off of her purse. Needless to say, I subsequently retired that bag ... and the fugitive underwear, too. Just in case.

Traveler, Here Lies All-World

2007-10-03T11:19:00.000-05:00

I am so excited! Last night, I submitted a new article to blogcritics. It was a class assignment - describe a place, any place. As enthused as I was about my new gunslinger poster, I decided to describe the Way Station from the first book of the series.

I had a lot of fun with it - I got to play with King's language and sentence structure, and I described the Station as if I'd brought someone there who'd never seen it before. I wrote it at a moment of suspended action, with the man in black and the gunslinger poised on the horizon.

It's part prose and part review, and I was proud of the end result, but it didn't seem like something they'd publish.

Well, they published it.

Not only that, the editor that published it suggested I write a whole series, one for each book!

This is a dream for me - out of all of King's works, the Dark Towers are the ones I turn to most often for comfort reading, and the ones that get into me the most. After reading them, I always catch myself speaking in the cadenced and archaic structure of his characters, especially in the later books. As much as I love this story and these characters, I can never write them. They don't belong to me. I can, however, take that love and use it to pull others readers into the story the way I was pulled in.

My first installment can be found here, and hopefully I'll have the others up a few days at a time. Depends on if the rest come to me as easily as this first one did. But please - read them, comment on them, and let me know what you think.

If I can attract even one new reader to this series, I'll consider these articles a success.

No (Dallas) Love

2007-10-02T11:04:00.000-05:00

Thursday morning, I'm taking advantage of OU/TX weekend to fly home and see my family for a little bit. It'll be nice to catch up with my parents and vegg out at home for a few days. And watch the game, of course. No one knows how to berate the Longhorns quite like me and my dad.

However, I've got one big barrier between me and my family. The Dallas-Love airport.

Me and Dallas-Love don't get along so well. I'm jinxed whenever I'm in that place. Last time I flew through was May of this year, for my little brother's high school graduation (May 25th ... a day which will live ... in travel-infamy ...).

I think our plane landed at Dallas-Love a bit late at around 9:45 pm. Six hours later, I was still. Friggin. There. Our plane kept getting delayed, and delayed, and delayed, and through some loophole of the airline system they didn't have to buy us hotel rooms (or provide us with food, for that matter. All I got for dinner that night was a package of pizza-flavored Combos from the gift shop. Nasty).

Thank God I'd carried my bag on. Around 3 am, I gave up and changed into my pjs in the bathroom and tried to find a place to sleep. The benches were a no-go, unless I wanted to spoon with some creepy stranger guy (no. No. Doesn't matter how tired I am, no). The airport lounge was too far from our gate; if, by some fluke of fate, our plane did come in, I wouldn't be near enough to hear the announcement.

I ended up along the wall, using my robe and a dress as a blanket, my duffel as the most uselessly solid pillow EVER, and hugging my laptop bag to my chest so no one messed with me or my stuff while I slept. Not that I slept, mind you. The spirit was willing, but the flesh said "hell no. Not comfortable. Ask again later."

We finally got out of there around 5 or 6 am (about time, too; I was beginning to worry I'd miss seeing Alex graduate). I ended up sleeping all morning to make up for my long night on the airport floor. And then, a few days later on the return trip, I got stuck in Dallas-Love AGAIN. I'm amazed the PA system didn't go all horror-movie and start laughing maniacally at me. It really wouldn't have surprised me at that point, though.

So do me a favor, guys. Keep your fingers crossed for me and my next attempt to get through that airport. I've only got a few days at home, and I really don't want to waste any of that visit laying around Love again.

Sleep-Deprived

2007-09-30T13:38:00.000-05:00

Unlike many college students, I need sleep in order to function. I need a lot of sleep, actually. And I didn't really get that much sleep last night. When that happens, I'm either A) sullenly annoyed about being awake, or B) absently dumb about simple things.

So today, I got up around 10 and went to church (it wasn't an early service, even), and got back home around maybe 1:00.

And stood in the breezeway in front of the door to my apartment, blankly but patiently pushing the "unlock" button on my car keys and wondering why the door wasn't unlocking.

No lie - I was that tired. It took at least half a dozen clicks of the button before I clued in. Someone, quick - shoot me before I breed.

I very much need to get caught up on my sleep tonight. I've got a lot to do this week, and if I'm busily using the wrong key to try and open my front door, it's gonna take a lot longer to do it all.

Rock of Love Finale - Sunday!

2007-09-28T21:17:00.000-05:00

The girls and I are total Rock of Love slaves. When it's on, nothing else is going on so far as we're concerned. The building could be on fire and we'd still have to wait for a commercial break before we ran to safety.

Sunday night is the big finale! In the final two we have Jes, my personal favorite who again is waaay too cool for this show, and Heather, who is (to quote Jes) a "hungry f-ing stripper." Applause all around!

And of course, being VH1, there will probably (hopefully) be a marathon of all the episodes prior to mark the occasion. And, of course, we're going to have to watch it. So to add a new twist to the old episodes, I give you the Rock of Love drinking game.

Anytime there is innuendo (theme song included - touch my backstage pass, ride my limousine!), drink.
Anytime one of Bret's semi-popular eighties hits is played, drink.
Anytime Bret kisses a woman for slightly longer than is proper, drink.
Anytime Heather's chosen profession is called into question, drink.
Anytime Lacey does something totally bitchy and unnecessary, drink. Then fling the empty container at her and try to knock that ugly lip-piercing loose.
Anytime the girls have to take part in a challenge which either a) results in partial nudity or naughty attire, b) results in jiggling of the breasts, or c) results in Bret being unnecessarily turned on, drink.
Anytime Bret does or says something so dumb that there's actually a pause for thought before the laughter starts, drink.
Anytime Sam cries (poor emotional thing that she is,) drink.
Anytime a girl whines about the lack of time they have with Bret, drink.
Catfights, censored nudity, and breaking stuff always merits a drink, no matter the circumstances.

Now, seeing as will be a Sunday and we are by and large not of drinking age, this drinking will probably involve water/Coke more so than liquor, but the idea still stands firm.

This game is second only to the drinking game for the second season of Arrested Development, where you drink every time someone makes a joke at Ann's expense (IE, "Who?" or "Her?") and the Wizard People, Dear Reader drinking game where you drink every time a name is changed or a spell is cast.

Small Wisdom

2007-09-26T18:35:00.000-05:00

Today, I got a little unexpected wisdom.

I take a taekwondo class at OU, more for the physical outlet than anything else. On Monday, I sort of completely skipped class, and today my professor wanted to know why.

Teacher *in nearly impenetrable Korean accent*: We missed you in class on Monday, Megan. Where were you?

Me: Sorry sir. I got caught up in a conversation, and it went right through class.

Teacher: I see. Was it ... a very important conversation?

Me: ... well no, not really, but it was a very good conversation.

Teacher: Ah. Sometimes, that is all that matters.

And that was the end of it. It's always nice when people understand your reasons; it's even nicer when they understand them even better than you do.

Completely Geekin' Out!

2007-09-25T20:38:00.000-05:00

I am in a little flurry of fandom! My Gunslinger poster came in today!

Out of all the series I've ever read, nothing has pulled me in like Stephen King's Dark Tower series. The main character, Roland, is one of the most complex and fascinating characters ever written. So when I found out that King and Marvel were releasing graphic novel versions of Roland's younger days under the title The Gunslinger Born, I pounced.

And when I found out that said graphic novels were being publicized by some beautifully artworked posters, I super-pounced. I went into a comic book store and smiled really big and talked really softly and voila! The nice guys ordered me my own poster. Again: girl perk. Gotta love it.

So now I've got this gorgeous poster of the gunslinger Roland right on the wall of my room. It's amazingly geeky of me, but I must admit I absolutely love it.

My fandom's got some serious aim.

Freudian Sip

2007-09-22T11:34:00.000-05:00

Last night, I had a group of people over to chill out, catch up, and watch some Brad Neely nonsense. And, sleepaholic that I am, as soon as everyone headed out around 1 am, I collapsed into bed and dozed off without worrying too much about the party-debris accumulated in the den.

After waking up this morning, I walked back out into my living room to take stock of the jumble of party-related junk settled around my apartment, especially cans and bottles. And suddenly my fiction-mechanism clicked on and I started to sort out how someone's drinking habits could be used as character development.

I mean, the way people drink can be used as characterization. A femme fatale will run her finger around the rim of her glass seductively, and a seasoned drinker will toss back a shot without a flinch. But I'm thinking about it in simpler, almost forensic terms: what do I know about who was here last night based on the leftover evidence next morning?

Quick note to anyone who was here last night - I have no idea whose drink was whose (I've slept since then), so none of this is personal judgment. This is just me extrapolating.

Some people finished their drink and threw their empty cans away. Those people are empathetic, and they follow through logically with anything they begin (Step 1: open drink, Step 2: drink drink, Step 3: trash drink).

Some people finished their drinks, but left the empty can sitting on the nearest stable surface. These people are all about efficiency, aware of what they are supposed to do but also knowledgeable about what corners they can cut without being called out.

Some people didn't finish their drinks (guilty!) but only took a few sips and either opted for another drink or set theirs down and forgot about it. These people are somewhat fickle, or are forever looking forward and get distracted by what's next instead of what's now.

Some people took their unfinished drinks home with them afterwards. These people are conscientious, and don't want to waste anything if they can help it. That, or they intend to go ahead and throw it out once out of sight, but want to look conscientious rather than wasteful.

Some people went out and got 7-11 Big Gulps, which our group of girls has re-dubbed "big-ass drinks." These people ... have a phallic fixation with straws?

And finally, some people finished their drink, scrunched up the can, and left what I can only identify as a chain of vampire-type bite marks up the side. Now I didn't see anyone drinking out of the side of the can Nosferatu-style, but again - I've slept since then. This either suggests that this type of drinker has a very complex personality which can't be explained by my impromptu analysis, or that I am in fact friends with a dracula.

Seeing as I don't remember who drank what, there's no way for me to find out if my theory is accurate or not. But that's the beauty of fiction - it's reality as I see it that applies, and nothing else.

Anyway, now that I've evaluated all the left-behind drink cans, it's time to throw them out. Psychoanalysis aside, I live here. Forest of aluminum isn't doing it for me.

Hi, Maintenance

2007-09-20T21:24:00.001-05:00

The maintenance people in my apartment complex have the worst timing.

This afternoon, after a crazy-busy morning, I decided to take a nap. Nothing big, just an hour or so to get me back to center. I'm woken up shortly thereafter by loud, open-the-fuck-up-it's-the-cops-style pounding on my front door and someone shouting, "housekeeping!" like a drill sergeant.

In my still sleep-addled state, my mind comes up with Schwarzenegger in an apron. Quite seriously. Not a great image, but a hell of a wake-up call.

Now, my complex may be nice, but complimentary housekeeping isn't part of the package. However, if they were who they said they were, that meant they had a key to my apartment and I was not exactly dressed for company. I flung myself out of bed and ran to the front door to keep it locked until I could figure out what was going on.

Me: Uh, hi, can I help you?

Housekeeping: Housekeeping!

Me: ... Since when do I have housekeeping?

Housekeeping: We're here to clean your bathroom.

Me: Um, that's really not ... necessary ...

Housekeeping: It's just the OU Housing department's way of saying thank you for being such a loyal tenant for the past three years.

Me: Oh. Well that's really nice and all ... um ... I'm wearing a bedsheet right now, ma'am.

Housekeeping: Oh. Um ... we'll come back in five minutes.

So they left me to make myself presentable - while the whole bedsheet-as-gown-look may be very early-cinema starlet, it really wasn't doing it for me.

Apparently, I have in fact earned myself a weekly bathroom cleaning because of my loyalty to the OU Housing system. Which is seriously not necessary, but I'm really not sure how to tell them I can Pine-Sol my own toilet.

Note to self: no more napping on Thursdays.

All Jacked Up

2007-09-19T20:54:00.000-05:00

So, y'know how I ended that last post with, "today is fantastic?" Well, it looks like I jumped the gun on that particular call.

I left my car in the Lloyd Noble parking lot and hopped the shuttle to my afternoon class. When I got back to my car, there was a giant, L-shaped hole in one of my tires. It's like someone stabbed it ... with an L.

So, since it was less than a mile from the lot to my apartment, I decided to go ahead and drive home on my totally worthlessly flat tire. Three words, people. Scariest. Thing. Ever.

In an even greater act of "Wait! I-can-fix-it," I decided to try and change the tire myself - the VW manual made it look pretty idiot-proof. And yet I couldn't get the stupid lugs loosened even a little bit.

I was quite seriously standing on the lug wrench, putting my full weight on it and the damn thing wouldn't turn. On top of it all, the entire eastern horizon was a mass of onrushing storm clouds, complete with little lightning streaks flickering through them.

Nothing like impending storms to amp up the tension of the moment. Thank you, Oklahoma weather patterns. Fantastic timing. Kudos.

However, my apartment complex definitely has one thing going for it. If you stand outside looking helpless for long enough, people will come help you. Last winter, that was how I eventually got the ice off my car - by sadly attempting to do it myself until several attractive exchange students came to my rescue. It's a girl perk.

Anyway, after maybe ten minutes of jumping on the lug wrench and doing nothing but rock my car, a girl walked past and asked me if I needed any help.

Now I have this little stubborn streak in me which causes me to be stupid about things. And my first impulse when this girl offered to help was to tell her thanks anyway, but I had it all under control, and that I was just lulling the tire into a false sense of security so I could catch it off guard.

But then, I thought about another hour of standing on the lug wrench. And the fact that I had no freakin' clue what I was doing, and that the little diagrams in the owner's manual were only going to get me so far. Plus, the aforementioned big ol' storm clouds were even bigger and storm-cloudy-er.

So I admitted I was totally clueless. This girl (Alyssa, wonderful stranger that she is) helped me loosen up the lugs (it took her all of two seconds; apparently, I suck at cars) and after a while a few more people came over and joined in, and by the time the job was done there were about a dozen people standing around my car. Oddly enough, all the women were helping me with my situation, and all the buff-type men were standing around discussing my situation. Hmm.

With like half of my building helping out, it only took us like fifteen minutes to get everything all fixed up! I was actually sort of hoping the storm would break right as we finished, in a cathartic slow-motion movie sort of way, but it didn't. Oh well.

In any case, thanks to the wonderful people of Traditions for saving me from my hopelessly sad little attempt at car maintenance! I am always amazed by the capacity of people to help the totally hopeless, even when they look flustered and have what appears to be a tire track down their face (I lifted the spare out of the trunk, it bounced back and ran a nice black tire tread down my face. Not exactly my best look.)

Hopefully I'll get to pay them back someday ... although clearly it won't be via car maintenance.

Professor Batman?

2007-09-19T12:34:00.000-05:00

This semester, I'm taking an amazing Intro to Professional Writing class. It's comprehensive and honest about the writing profession, and I've quite seriously gotten more experience after one month in this class than I have in my entire academic career.

In addition, the class is ridiculously, unpredictably entertaining! We always end up going on tangents and telling amazing stories, and yet still learning whatever it is we're meant to learn for the day. Our teacher, Mel, makes off-color jokes and wonderfully lousy puns and keeps the class hanging off his every word - which is very impressive, considering it's a 9 am class.

The class is cool enough that a friend of mine actually coined the phrase, "taking awesome lessons from Batman" to describe it, spawned by Mel wearing a Batman t-shirt last class.

And this morning, Mel came in wearing a Batgirl shirt. Today is fantastic.

Oops

2007-09-18T17:17:00.004-05:00

I sort of sabotaged myself today.

Now I'm generally a fairly intelligent person, in my opinion. So when I do dumb things, they're either above and beyond the call of dumb (for instance, when I pronounced the name of the African country Mozambique as Moh-zam-bee-cue, or when I burned butter last time I tried to cook on my stove), or it's something tiny and simple that nonetheless makes me feel like a complete spaz.

Today's dumb thing falls into the "tiny and simple" category, fortunately. I was gonna have some time to kill on campus after class, so I updated my iPod with this amazing new playlist encompassing all the stuff I'm listening to lately.

It was a totally kick-ass list, too - some of my go-to favorites like Goldfinger's hard-rock version of "99 Red Balloons" and Queen/Bowie's "Under Pressure," as well as Eurotrip's "Scotty Doesn't Know" and the Dandy Warhols' "We Used to Be Friends." I rounded it all out with my latest obsessions, The Mountain Goats' "Cotton" and Shiny Toy Guns' "Le Disko."

So I left my apartment and drove to campus. I got a suspiciously good parking spot. I found an open bench in the shade in front of the Honors College. I dug into my bag and pulled out my iPod ... and it was only at this penultimate moment that I realized I'd left my earbuds on my bedside table after updating my iPod.

I hate it when I'm dumb. Minus ten IQ points for me.

So I wound up lying on the bench, playing Solitaire on my sad, mute little iPod, and humming my playlist. Turns out guitar solos are tough to hum, although "Le Disko" sounds oddly mellow in hum-form.

I actually feel a little bad being so tech-reliant that my iPod can make or break my day, but I can't help it! Music sets the tone for my day. I listen to my iPod all over campus, and whatever I'm listening to tends to blend over into how I look, feel, and act. Peaceful songs make me stroll, sexy songs make me strut, and "Scotty Doesn't Know" makes me sing inappropriate lyrics in public. When my iPod battery dies, I die a little too.

I really need this music fix, too ... I will not forget my earbuds tomorrow. I will. Not. Forget my earbuds tomorrow! I will not. Forget. My earbuds tomorrow.

Dreamers Awake: Twisted, Touching, and Timeless Tales

2007-09-17T21:53:00.000-05:00

Hello again, readers! I come bearing me-related news. The third anthology from our short story class is now up for grabs! Entitled Dreamers Awake: Twisted, Touching, and Timeless Tales, this anthology covers a wide range of stories subjects and genres, and contains my short story "Obsidian: The Beginning." It's an assassin-styled fantasy story which I may or may not revisit at some point. If you're interested, the book can be found at http://www.cafepress.com/oudreamer/.

(Not gonna lie ... my "Obsidian" short was in my opinion the roughest of my four short stories. The next anthology, Thresholds, has my personal favorite short story, expect a lot of hoopla from me once that anthology gets published.)

Reality TV Response: Big Brother 8, Rock of Love, Pick-Up Artist

2007-09-17T13:16:00.001-05:00

Big Brother 8 - CBS

Nothing major to report, Sunday's episode was just a recap show to lead up to Tuesday's night conclusion. I did love watching some of the controversial moments again - Jen's fit over her memory wall picture, Amber crying, Jameka ending a powerful religious argument with "Yo Momma," Amber crying, Dustin's king costume, Amber crying ... good times.

My prediction for Tuesday is Daniele will take it home. She has played an amazing game and won a ton of competitions when it mattered most; although Dick did save her ass a few times, that speaks to Daniele's skill at aligning herself with a die-hard player. Dick has also done a damn good job in the house, but he has made so many enemies on the jury I'd be shocked if he were to walk away with the win.

One thing I do know, though ... winner's not gonna be Zach! And I am absolutely throwing a party on the inside because of that fact. Zach is the lo-ser, Donatos rock the house!

Rock of Love - VH1

No need for a long review this week ... all I want to do is yell, "LACEY'S GONE!" I had a watch-party for it with the girls last night, and when Bret kicked her out of the house we started screaming and cheering so loudly we scared my friend Julie's cat. What a relief to see that burgundy-coiffed psycho go home! I do feel a bit bad for her, though ... because her dad is just as nuts as she is. Must be genetic.

Next week's the finale, then! Badass Jes vs. Stripper Heather. I don't know who will take it home in the end, honestly. I'd like it to be Jes, just because she's such a cool chick, but I can see Heather and Bret together for the long run. They're both aging sex symbols, they'd work well together.

Edit: Looks like next week is not the finale, but is in fact a clip show. Damnit VH1! I! Need! To know!

The Pick Up Artist - VH1

The boys didn't do so well for the first bit of this episode. For their reward challenge, they had to try and engage moving targets, IE women jogging. Now, women all run either with a friend or with their iPod firmly blocking out the world. There is an insanely small chance for a guy to get their attention without seeming sketchy. Needless to say, none of the three succeeded and Mystery ended up withholding the reward.

However, the second task seemed even more impossible. The guys had to try and pick up an exotic dancer - without paying her. Shockingly enough, all three guys did amazingly well! Kosmo got a great conversation going with one girl, and he would have closed the deal except for the fact that she had a boyfriend. Oops.

Joe came close to getting the girl, but failed to close. Brady, shockingly enough, got one of the girls to accompany him to the limo the guys arrived in, where he closed a kiss (and perhaps more than that, as the cameras chose to cut away and leave Brady to his dancer)

And then, sadly, Mystery sent Joe home! I was so bummed, Joe was an absolutely adorable guy and he had made such strong strides over the weeks. So the final two will be Brady, a guy with GQ-type looks but little confidence, and Kosmo, who was once intimidated by women but is finally gaining his feet. The final contest? The guys are given nerds of their own to groom, educate, and train as mini-pick-up-artists. Come on, Kosmo!

Not Breakfast of Champions; Breakfast for Champions?

2007-09-14T22:01:00.000-05:00

I was channel-flipping this afternoon, and I saw an Eggo waffles ad - some animated dad trying to steal a waffle from his own adorable daughter in various Tom-and-Jerry-ish ways. Apparently, the only way dad gets waffles in that household is through burglary. He can't just wait his turn for the waffle-box and toast his own waffle; no, he has to commit Grand Theft Waffle.

As I remember it, breakfast used to be about family togetherness and unity before the stresses of the day. Not anymore, though. Breakfast isn't just breakfast anymore. Breakfast is an every-man-for-himself, free-for-all of a contest. It's Breakfast Melee!

I started thinking about it, and I realized there's a definite trend. Cookie Crisp? Chip the Wolf goes to insane lengths to try to steal cereal from kids. Trix? Silly Rabbit goes to insane lengths to try to steal cereal from kids. Lucky Charms? Lucky the Leprechaun goes to insane lengths to try to stop kids from stealing his cereal.

Personally, I always watched that poor, sad Trix rabbit and wondered why he didn't get a job as the Easter Bunny and buy himself his own box of fruity corn puffs.

What a strange phenomenon - the daily breakfast deathmatch. This morning, in the Kitch-Arena (rena-rena-ena) ... it's Mom v. Dad (dad-ad-ad) ... for a plate of bacon and eggs (eggs-ggs-ggs!) Loser has to eat ... oatmeal (oatmeal-atmeal-atmeal ...)

I don't know about everyone else out there, but breakfast was never such an end-all, be-all meal for me. In the morning, I'm more likely to make a sandwich or re-heat lasagna than pour a bowl of cereal. My whole family's the same way. We made normal breakfast foods on holidays, and that's about it. Maybe that's why I don't get this phenomenon ... the daily bacon-and-eggs deathmatch wasn't a part of my childhood.

Perhaps this trend is a result of the fixation America tends to have with food. Breakfast isn't just a meal anymore - it's a goal! Breakfast is the ultimate reward! Breakfast is worth stealing for! Opressing rabbits for! Endlessly stalking tiny green men for!

And if breakfast is not a contest, then it is the result of an epic quest. A Cheerios box is placed golden-idol style at the end of a booby-trapped tomb that would make Indiana Jones call in sick. Toucan Sam and his (nephews? sons?) little bird companions sail the high seas endlessly seeking cereal. It's breakfast as holy grail.

Maybe I'm wrong; maybe people who truly love breakfast food and who tend to make pancakes for dinner are willing to run gauntlets, sail seas, and harass leprechauns all for the love of cereal. I certainly wouldn't ... although I doubt I'd do it for a hamburger either, or a slice of pizza. Leprechauns deserve their privacy too, y'know.

I can't wait to see how this trend continues to evolve and play out over the years ... in the future, Olympic game winners won't get their face on a box of Wheaties anymore. Instead, they'll get a box of Wheaties. Huzzah!

Reality TV Response: Big Brother 8, Rock of Love, Pick-Up Artist

2007-09-09T20:17:00.000-05:00

Big Brother 8 - CBS

Aw, Zach ... every time I think you've ticked me off about as much as you possibly could, you manage to outdo yourself. Bravo, sweetie.

Trying to turn on the Donatos now is a ridiculously huge mistake. Daniele has won more POVs than anyone else in the game, and if she gets it there's no way she's not gonna get in there and pull herself or her dad off the block.

Look at it this way - whoever wins POV is the sole vote this week, unless it's Zach. Dick or Daniele wins it, Jameka's on the block, and the family duo stays true to themselves. Jameka's going home this week, no doubt. All Zach has done is paint himself a big ol' target to wear around. Hope he likes the fit of it.

Zach had better hope he doesn't make it to the final two, he's played such a dead-fish game that it's inconceivable that he'll walk away with the money. And if by some fluke of fate he does win it, I hope the check gives him a papercut. Friggin' Zach ...

Edit: Tues, Sept 11 ... Haha, Zach. Ha-dee-ha-ha. The Donatos have got you in a corner now, buddy. You'd best keep clinging to that key or you are outta here!

Edit: Thurs, Sept 13 ... I pledge allegiance ... to the Donatos ... and their totally rock-solid alliance.

The father-daughter duo has done something no alliance has managed before - they took each other to the final two with unwavering focus and hardcore gameplay. You may think Daniele is whiny, and you may think Dick is, well, a dick, but there is no denying their skill and strategy. If it couldn't be Eric, then I'm so glad it's them!

Rock of Love - VH1

Tonight's episode was intense! Now we're getting into the rock side of Bret's life ... sex, music, and projectile vomiting. Bret whisks his ladies away to his gig in Vegas, and they thank him by getting completely faced, obnoxious, and sexually frustrated.

Told you this show had class.

Apparently seeing Bret perform onstage makes all the girls crazy-horny, as that's all any of them talk about in the one-on-one interviews later on. They rattle on and on about how sexy their man is, ad nauseum. Quite literally ad nauseum, as later on Brandi and Lacey get as drunk as humanly possible, become violent ill, and generally make total fools of themselves. They will be living this episode down for the rest of their lives.

At dinner, Lacey throws up under the table and is sent to her room. She has to be carried due to her inability to even stand up anymore. Not five minutes later, Brandi projectile-vomits into her napkin and drunkly declares her love for Bret while he holds her head over the toilet. Heather raids the table and hauls off like four pounds of leftovers.

To further amp up the class of this episode, Bret invites Jes to stay for a "nightcap." I must say, he seemed to have more than a nightcap on his bandanna-smothered mind ... seeing as she didn't make it back to her room that night, and her hair was plastered all over the place next day ...

After the sex and nausea part of the show, we return to the backstabbing and catfighting that is the norm for these girls. Brandi digs herself into a hole and gets herself in the hot seat, Lacey is a crazy malicious psycho and whips up fake tears, Heather continues to be an old stripper, and so on. Bret introduces the theory of "pole emotions," where he states the belief that strippers have trouble falling in love and thus he cannot trust Heather fully. What a scholar that man is.

Then there's sex again, and nausea on the audience's part. Bret abandons Heather, who has his name tattooed on the back of her neck, to hook up with Crazy Lacey.

What. In. The hell. Somebody, quick! Loosen his bandanna! He's having enough trouble with his bloodflow, what with his constantly getting turned on and all ... he needs as much of it to get to his brain as is possible.

In the end, Bret kept the two girls he got, ahem, quality time with, and Brandi checked out after telling Bret she couldn't let her guard down with him. Sadly, Lacey wasn't escorted out by the bouncer like I'd hoped! Oh, well. We've got a few more episodes to go, there's still time.

Next episode: meet the parents. It looks like it's gonna be another tough one for Lacey, and hopefully she'll finally take the friggin' fall!

The Pick Up Artist - VH1

Review coming soon, I seem to have the hardest time catching this show on premiere nights!

DVD Review: Robot Chicken, Season Two

2007-09-07T12:34:00.000-05:00

Emperor Palpatine receives a collect call from a devastated and emotional Darth Vader after the destruction of the Death Star. Mike and Carol Brady duke it out a la “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” Ted Turner paints himself blue and warns viewers to “protect the environment, or I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Captain Planet!” It’s all par for the course for the [adult swim] cult classic “Robot Chicken.”

Created and produced by Seth Green and Matt Seinrich, the second season of “Robot Chicken” hit shelves on September 4, 2007, and brought more stop-motion sex, violence, and general irreverence to the masses. The critically acclaimed show (more for animation than content, mind you) is back with twenty more episodes, all of them packed with the wit and violence that made the show a hit.

“Robot Chicken” is television for the truly ADD viewer, as each eleven-minute episode is crammed with nearly a dozen short sketches. The show is fast-paced and funny, racing to each punch line with obsessive attention to detail. The sketches feature a variety of popular toys and classic action figures parodying many aspects of pop culture, from cartoons and television shows to celebrity scandals and general nonsense.

The show’s humor has evolved somewhat since the last season, where all the laughs seemed to be focused on the physical humor and sight gags. The second season is laced with lots of verbal humor and clever situations, which makes for much more engaging comedy. For example, in one sketch Jesus stops his acolytes from stoning a man, saying, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” When the acolytes drop their stones, Jesus pulls out one of his own and cracks the man across the face.

The show’s creators have also learned to laugh at their own creation quite a bit. In one skit, a coach stares at his deflated sporting equipment and laments, “My balls! Oh, my balls! Who would do this to my balls?” while an onlooker remarks, “This show is soooo clever.” In another episode, the creators end with a spoof of VH1’s “Best Week Ever” with various celebrity action figures mocking the preceding sketches.

No worries though – in addition to the clever side of the show’s humor, the award-winning stop-motion humping and lengthy fight scenes that the show became famous for are still present as well, and in full force. Clearly the animators have been fine-tuning their skills, because the animation style of the second season is noticeably smoother and more creative than that of the first season. For instance, one episode features a sketch where Lindsey Lohan uses impressively animated sword fighting skills to kill off her fellow teen starlets Highlander-style (“There can be only ONE!”).

Some of the skits are several minutes long, like the “A Very Dragonball Z Christmas” sketch which pits classic anime characters against familiar holiday figures. Other sketches take only a few seconds to get to the punch line; for instance, in one sketch two kids stare at their grandparents with glowing eyes, and the grandfather grumbles, “Damned kids.” Scene.

Viewers who enjoyed the first season of “Robot Chicken” should be equally engaged by the second installment. The DVD set features all twenty episodes of season two, as well as deleted scenes, commentary, and a controversial episode in which Beavis and Butthead become Teen Titans, which was omitted from the Season One line-up due to copyright issues.

The second season is definitely a worthwhile purchase for any “Robot Chicken” aficionado. However, fans that would rather not spend the money can catch re-runs of the notorious show on the [adult swim] website’s video feed, as well as new episodes of the series’ third season which are aired every Sunday night on [adult swim].

Big Brother and their Big Bright Ideas ...

2007-09-06T19:59:00.000-05:00

Oh come on, Big Brother! The double eviction would have been perfect to knock out Jameka and Zach in one fell swoop, but noooo, of course things couldn't go that nicely ...

Jessica got the axe ... and then, not an hour later, Eric was gone! Just bing-bing, down and down! And all I have to say is that it's all friggin HOH Zach's fault. That's right, Zach - I blame you. Way to wrench up the works, buddy.

It would have been truly amazing to see Eric take it all the way! He was so restricted by his role as America's Player that it seemed impossible he'd last more than a few weeks. However, he was wildly clever in his tactics and managed to do a fantastic job of accomplishing his tasks! The mustard on Jen's pillow was particularly brilliant and cathartic ...

So, with Eric suddenly, sadly gone, I have to change my focus as to who to root for in the final stretch. I guess I'd have to cast my vote for one of the Donatos ... preferably Dick. He's managed to hold a remarkable amount of power over the house, which is truly impressive since he's not his primary priority. His daughter Daniele is. Normally, when a player chooses to defend another player, they take the fall for them (IE, Mike defends Kail and gets sent home in the dumbest BB8 move ever.) However, Dick's managed to defend Daniele and still keep himself in the house! I doubt he'll win though, a lot of people are on bad terms with him ...

I do not want to see Jameka win, or Zach. They've coasted this whole way by being dull and keeping under the radar. Neither of them deserve the prize. Really Daniele doesn't either, since she's only here because of Dick's help. I suppose it's all going to come down to how the jury votes: based on personal opinion or gameplay.

... Zach! Everything was going so well without your interference! Way to screw it all up.

Reality TV Response: Big Brother 8, Rock of Love, Pick-Up Artist

2007-09-03T22:18:00.000-05:00

Big Brother 8 - CBS

No! Noooo Zach, nooo! Of all the weeks for you to take the house, why now? You spaz.

To old business: bye, Amber! I'm surprised to say I'll actually miss the crying game ... I've never known anyone to generate hilarity by something as simple as a sniffle, but she pretty much cornered the market on that one.

The HOH competition was pretty intense this week! My heart was racing through the whole thing, I wanted Dick to steal that win so bad! I thought he might for a bit, when Zach got busy trying to wedge those big monkey hands of his into the jar to try and get his little ball out early. Sadly, he wised up and did it the normal way before Dick could make up the difference. Smart monkey.

Shockingly enough, Zach didn't nominate Dick! After their little face-to-face earlier, Zach should have been dying to get rid of him. When it comes down to it, he must be scared of Dick. Why else would he pass that up? Very, very tragic to see Jessica go up though, although after nominating Zach next week I'm sure she was prepared for it.

Hopefully, Eric will get the veto. He'll take Jessica off the block for sure, and then the rest can band together to get Tragic Jameka out. There's no one who'd take her off the block save for herself. Besides, it'd be a shame to see Jessica go, she's the only consistently positive persona in the house besides Eric! And with his lady-love gone, Eric will be pitiful.

Veto competition's going to be a big one this week ... and I have a sneaking suspicion that a double elimination is coming up any day now.

Edit: Tues, September 4 ... Daniele got the veto, so no change to the nominations. Better than Jameka getting off the block, anyway. Dick lusting after Janelle was funny, funny stuff, as was Eric's Dick impersonation. Cereal-flicking is quality entertainment.

Oh, and FYI - I absolutely called it! Double elimination coming up on Thursday night's episode ... first Jameka, then Zach! Come on, Big Brother, don't fail me now!

Rock of Love - VH1

So this week, Heather, brilliant intellectual that she is, decided to get Bret's name tattooed on the back of her neck. Good call, sweetie. A promiscuous rock star's name permanently scarred into your flesh? That's not a decision you'll ever regret.

Bret's superfans? Definitely typical groupies. But way nicer than a lot of the girls in the house, honestly. I would've rather had them there than half the girls on the show, and clearly Bret wouldn't have minded at all ... those were less-than-chaste goodbye kisses.

Now then - what in the hell is Bret doing by eliminating Sam and keeping Crazy Lacey despite the superfans' suggestions?? Is his bandanna tied too tight? I think the producers must've had a hand in on that decision, Lacey generates more drama than Sam and is thus more buzzworthy. But at least Sam went out in a big way - that was a jaw-dropper of a kiss she laid on him on her way out the door. I think Bret was immediately starting to regret letting her go ...

Next week should be equally interesting, it looks like security has to escort someone out! I bet it's Lacey ... who else would get belligerent enough to have to be bounced from the house? And in the commercials for next episode, we see Bret Michaels postulating how to get Heather off the stripper pole and onto his own pole, a statement which takes his WTF-ery to a whole new level. Why, Bret?

The Pick Up Artist - VH1

Ahhh! Ahhhh men in Speedos, ahhhh! And actually, as unfairly attractive as Kosmo and Joe W. were in their little man-thongs, Joe D. was absolutely adorable. 280 lbs, and not at all intimidated about his heavyset body in that tiny little swimsuit. Major bonus points, Joe D.! However, the most entertaining in my book was Joe W. - "my butt showed up with its A-game today." Gotta love it.

In the end, the "let's see how the men handle baring it all" contest went to Joe D. and his total confidence in the face of butt-floss. (Make a note, men: no matter how you look or what you're doing, if you are unshakably confident in it then women will respond!) For his prize, D. won Niquito, a chick-magnet of a puppy to use in the next competition.

Mystery told an odd little story about that time when he met a woman in a grocery store and had her naked in his hotel room 25 minutes later. And all I want to know is this: what in the hell did he say to her?? That's like a world record, less than half an hour from "hello" to "helloooo ..."

Mystery gets more and more odd with each show ... I just want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and yell "Be normal! Be normal!" until things balance out. Sexy voice aside, he's quite off-putting at times. I'm not sure how such a strange man could be such an expert at picking up women ... I honestly think I'd sooner date Kosmo or one of the Joes than get involved with Mystery.

All the guys seemed to do a good job in the field test - Pradeep even scored a phone number off a girl. Joe D. fumbled quite a bit - his dog got more game than he did, honestly. Pradeep, secure with his digits, won the competition and ensured his survival for another week. Kosmo, Joe D., and Brady stayed ... which means my Joe W. went home! Clearly I don't know how to pick 'em when it comes to pick up artists ...

Next week's preview looks very, very entertaining ... women model lingere for our would-be Lotharios, and they struggle to keep their composure in the face of sexuality. Competition's getting a little, ah, stiff ... heehee.

Pulp! - An Anthology of Short Stories

2007-09-01T19:54:00.000-05:00

Exciting news! My short story class's second anthology, Pulp, is now for sale! It contains the class's second round of short stories, covering a wide variety of genres. It includes my horror short "Spell Bound," which is a classic-style ghost story in the vein of Stephen King. You can check out the book by clicking here.

Forget seeing my name in lights ... to me, nothing's cooler than seeing my name in print!

Book review: Joe Hill's "Heart-Shaped Box"

2007-08-30T20:11:00.000-05:00

Hi readers! I actually got this review published in my campus's newspaper, and that gives them the rights to it so I cannot post it online. However, if you would like to read it you can find it by clicking on the headline posted below. Enjoy!

Horrors Found In "Heart-Shaped Box"

Reality TV Response: Big Brother 8, Rock of Love, Pick-Up Artist

2007-08-26T20:09:00.001-05:00

So this summer, I got really sucked into reality TV ... especially the hilariously odd, VH1 celebreality shows. Big Brother 8, Rock of Love, and The PickUp Artist have all become staples for my weekly lineup. We may be nearing the end of the seasons, but all that means is that the shows are getting more and more intense as the players are forced to step up their games. So! Let's start with the big one.

Big Brother 8 - CBS

Very, very pleased with the way Sunday night turned out! I mean, I'm still celebrating the eviction of psycho Jen! I was a little worried that the Jessica/Eric alliance would flip again and target Dick and Daniele, my personal favorites. But Jessica came through for me again, and instead nominated Wah-mber and the borderline-invisible Zach. I would be sort of sad to see Zach go, his new game of cockblocking Eric every time he's getting cozy with Jessica is the most personality he's shown this season!

Definitely enjoyed the reward contest, what with all the nudity and bubbles and all. Hunky Zach, cute Eric, and Evel Dick sliding around in mounds of foam? Now that is quality TV! Was definitely glad to see the girls take the challenge though, since the reward was a shopping spree and the men definitely do not care about that. Well, maybe Eric. Not the others though. And I very much enjoyed the men's confusion with unscrambling the words (to quote Zach, "I spent five days wearing a bunny suit ... and I couldn't spell "bunny suit.")

I'd really love to see Amber go home this week ... I mean, the crying game is funny, no question. I've tried to start making tally marks every time she breaks down (it's a tough count to keep, since she's doing it so often ...) But overall, she needs to go home. With any luck, the current dominant foursome can edit out Amber, then Zach, and then the one-woman god-squad that is Jameka. That would leave a very entertaining BB house, and an insanely boring sequester house. Sounds like par for the course to me.

Rock of Love - VH1

Mmm ... what a classy, classy show. Poison's Bret Michaels invites a houseful of girls to try and touch his heart ... among other things. I mean, they have a stripper pole right there in the living room! Nothing says class like erotically friendly furniture.

This show really wasn't worth discussing until now, since all it consisted of was women behaving badly and Bret Michaels becoming horny at the drop of a hat. Now that the house has dwindled to six, the competition is getting much more heated ... in more ways than one. We've got Lacey, who's certifiably crazy; Sam, who's sweet but emotional; Mia, who's still trying to make a connection with Bret; Heather, an old stripper who is just what that title suggests; Brandi, who's consistently inappropriate; and Jes, who's way too cool for this show.

I was disappointed this episode, I was so ready to see Lacey go home ... I actually liked her at the start, when she was targeting the girls who drove me nuts. But now, all those girls have gone on home and crazy-eyes Lacey has targeted my favorites and gotten crazier by the day. I do support Bret's decision this to get rid of Mia ... I mean, um, uh, so um, Mia? Learn to speak with some conviction, honey. She really brought this on herself. All the other girls stepped up their game, and she fumbled her words and fell out of the competition.

In the end, I'm rooting for Sam and Jes. They both seem very genuine, not getting into the catty games of the other girls, and they seem like they could be a good match for him. However, none of the _noun_ of Love shows have successfully made a match yet, and I'd hate to see either of those two get publicly burned by Bret.

The preview for next week looks pretty promising for outing Lacey as the mad thing she actually is. How I'll make it through another week, I don't know.

The Pickup Artist - VH1

At first, I really hated this concept. Teaching men how to trick women into bed? Pass. But actually, it's more than that. It's about confidence building and teaching socially inept men how to carry themselves in social situations. The chick-getting is just another facet of this. I actually find myself absorbing some of the basic networking advice mentioned ... it's really pretty sound, universal advice for how to break the ice, engage a group in conversation without seeming desperate or overwhelming, and make an impact.

I'm intrigued by the host, the one-name wonder Mystery. On the surface he really weirds me out, with the fuzzy hat and the kiss tattooed on his neck and all the piercings. But without all his accessories, I think he's really a very attractive guy! And he's got a great voice ... I'd watch the show just to listen to him lecture.

The boys are Scott, Pradeep, Brady, Joe D., Joe W., and Alvaro (who goes by the alias Kosmo for reasons known only to himself.) I'm really very fond of some of the boys, Scott and Joe W. in particular. They have that nerd-allure that always appeals to me, and as the show progresses I'd love to see them excel without losing that part of themselves to the pick-up artist super-suavity.

The focus tonight was teaching the men kissing techniques and how to gauge whether or not they can get by with going in for a kiss or just get slapped. With this concept in place, it does mean this particular episode got a little out of hand, which is understandable with two sexy women vamped up on each other to demonstrate techniques, grown men frenching pieces of fruit, and the, ahem, contest the men got to take part in: practicing their new kissing techniques on a sexy, blonde, blindfolded woman. Rrrow.

The contest was ... interesting, to say the least, but in the end Kosmo smooched his way to victory. Some of the guys really knew what they were doing (Pradeep! Way to step up, hon!) and some of them were clearly out of their depth.

The same thing can be said of the field test. Out of all the guys, only Kosmo managed to seal the deal and get his kiss, due in part to Mystery coaching him through an earpiece (his reward for winning the kiss contest.) The other guys faltered, floundered, and generally dropped the ball (again I turn to Pradeep, whose noisy and desperate attempts to declare himself a VIP fell tragically flat.) In the end, Kosmo and his selected wingmen, the two Joes, got to stay on the show, as did Brady and Pradeep. Which means Scott went home, tragically! I'd so hoped to see more of him ... psst! Scott! Give me a call, sweetie. I'll show you how I play Dungeons and Dragons ... heehee.

Next week appears to involve men in thongs ... they would throw this in right when Scott leaves. Sigh. Oh well. Go Joe W.!

In closing, a little side note regarding the finale of VH1's Scott Baio is 45 and Single. The look on Scott's face when his fiance of ten seconds tells him she's pregnant by him? Total freaking panic. Let's see how long that relationship lasts once she sees that deer-in-the-headlights look ...

Webcomic Review: Questionable Content

2007-08-26T02:29:00.000-05:00

About a year ago, a friend turned me on to a webcomic called Questionable Content. I ended up staying awake half the night and reading through the archives as fast as my computer could load the strips to catch up on the storylines (and that's no small feat!). Ever since, checking the QC website for the newest update has become part of my morning routine. My day is just not right without my QC fix.

Drawn by 27-year-old Jeph Jacques, the comic focuses on Marten, a twenty-something guy trying to eke out a place for himself in the world, as well as his ever-increasing and ever-bizarre group of friends. Marten lives with Pintsize, an Anthro-PC (it's like a Mac, but with a personality) whose inappropriate comments and actions could carry the comic on their own. In addition to Pintsize, Marten's social circle includes Faye, a charming indie girl cursed with complex on top of complex; Dora, a shameless semi-goth chick who runs the local coffee joint (appropriately dubbed "Coffee of Doom"); Jimbo, a mechanic-by-day, romance-novelist-by-night; as well as an impressive and extensive host of other characters ranging from the clever to the ridiculous.

QC's humor is very situational, with a lot of witty banter and unexpected directions. Sometimes the humor is more subtle and steadily developed, but sometimes it jumps out at you like ... like an underwear-masked Anthro-PC, I suppose. It's very much the thinking man's comic, occasionally veering into the philosophic and liberally tossing around SAT-type words that may leave less word-hungry readers a bit stymied. On the flip side, Jeph makes liberal use of sight gags and physical humor, as exhibited by Faye's habit of punching people when teased and Pintsize's stint as the Underwear Ninja.

Despite its off-the-wall content, QC is very universal. It deals with issues most everyone has dealt with at some point in their lives, as well as some issues no one should ever, ever have to deal with if they are lucky.

The art style is very simplistic in the first few strips, but Jeph clearly loves perfecting his art - the comic is nearly 1,000 strips strong, and his art style has evolved and improved very steadily over time, fleshing out the characters physically as well as emotionally.

Jeph also makes some pretty savvy references in his strip, encompassing everything from Shakespeare to Indiana Jones to an FLCL-styled chick called the VespAvenger. In the earlier strips, a lot of the humor is directed at various indie bands. Those references go right over my head, but those who do keep tabs on the indie scene will feel very much in on the joke.

Some strips deal with personal issues the characters face at the time. Some strips simply do all they can to set up a powerful punch line. And some strips are clearly there because Jeph really wanted to draw them. For instance, comic #666 (subtitled "I've been waiting three years for this strip") includes a completely unprecedented and unexpected break in continuity for a "spontaneous metal interlude" where all the characters dress up like the spawn of KISS and rock out for a few panels before going back to normal.

One of the highlights of Questionable Content is the depth of the characters. While some webcomics tend to let their characters change personality at the drop of a hat to generate a storyline, Jeph does a fantastic job of developing his characters and sticking to the traits he assigns them. As a result, his characters seem truer-to-life and more believable than many webcomics. By the time a reader has made it all the way through the archives to the current issues he will feel as if he knows these characters, or at least knows people in his life like these characters.

QC is updated five times a week, Monday through Friday. It can be found at http://www.questionablecontent.net/. In addition to the daily comic, the site contains Jeph's music suggestions, links to other webcomics of interest, and an online store which sells t-shirts bearing popular QC characters and slogans. Be forewarned that QC is definitely for mature readers. The characters are prone to language, generally in colorful and unusual combinations. While there is never any explicit sexual action, there is a lot of implied action and suggestive situations and dialogue.

Jeph has kept the site going strong for over four years now, and with any luck it'll be around for a long time to come. Check out QC today and find out what all the hype is about.