You can’t spell Voldemort without ‘emo’.

Saw that the other day and it sill makes me giggle.

So, June. Nice job on the regularly updated blog there, kid. In my defense I did apparently start a post-Fourth of July entry (Probably about how the entirety of New Symrna Beach almost perished in a blaze of patriotic glory. Seriously, never seen so many fireworks.) and then promptly forgot all about it.

Been fairly productively lately. Working on keeping this this up.  It’s mostly been focused on cleaning and organizing the apartment rather than job hunting, but one thing at a time.  I really should keep my kitchen in better than it’s usual state of disarray. I don’t cook if I move bunch of stuff first, and therefore cook so infrequently that I’m always suprised by how much I enjoy it when I actually get a chance.

Went to Savannah last weekend for my little brother’s 21st birthday. Took the train, which was interesting.  I’d love to do an old fashioned train trip sometime, where you sit across from each other, and take meals in the dining car.  This train was not so cool. The lady next to me was excessively chatty, and liked to peer through her reading glasses AND a magnifying glass balanced on her stomach to see her phone so she could text.  And a girl across the way was wearing flip-flops, pjamamas, and a pearl necklace.

The kid was good, indecisive  and frustrating as ever. (We just drove/rode the rails for 6 hours to spend your birthday with you! What d’ya wanna do? Uh… I dunno. What do YOU want to do? *stab*).  Mom made him a cake with rubber critters all over it (he’s been battling giant spiders, there’s a truly creepy breed that haunts the Victorian neighborhoods in Savannah, they seem to like all the flowers).  I hid creepy crawler in his bed. He found it. I hid frog next (after a truly slick sleight-of-hand manuveour, “what do you mean? There’s nothing in my hand, see?”) and as far as I know, that one was sucessful.

Boys

Still somewhat drunk/tired/startled, so forgive this.

If there’s one thing high school, tv and movies have taught us, it’s that we can’t control the affections of others.  We cannot make someone like us, it’s their choice, ultimately.  And we can’t make someone want us.

And we can’t honestly ask the person they do want to brush them off for our sake, because a) maybe they want them too (and why does our happiness matter more than theirs?), and more importantly b) there’s absolutely no guarantee that being denied their first choice, the desired person will turn to us.

Not that it matters, but I’m a little pissed because a guy I think is pretty hot is apparently interested in me, but I got guilted into backing off because a co-worker (so not someone I can just say ‘kiss off’ and never see again) is also attracted to him, and even though she was doing a shit job at flirting (or even talking to the poor boy), and I didn’t chase him, I just responded to what he started;  I was upsetting her.

Remind me of this when I find myself in her shoes .

In other news, a tree frog somehow hitched a ride on my car door, and started scaling my driver’s side window on the way home. I actually screamed and nearly ran off the road. What the hell. And does that sort of shit have to happen at 2 am?

Amazing Finds in the Freezer Section

Target carries Dippin’ Dots!

Under another name, but still. Single serving bowls for a dollar.  A long way from having to dish out 5 for a cup.  And from the days when the only place you could find them was at Kennedy Space Center.

A little tricky to get them home without melting, but still less of a disaster than when A and I tried some out of a vending machine at Parkside.

I’m having Space-Cream tonight!

And while we’re on the subject of frozen things; Platinum Grit, a fantastically wonderful and surreal web comic that everyone should read, posted chapter 19 earlier this week.  And I’m already jonesing for chapter 20.

British Snobbery

Oh, how I adore thee.

Found in an article about the recent auction of some of Adolf Hitler’s watercolors:

Best known as the genocidal dictator who butchered millions in his quest to unite Europe under German rule, Hitler also had a largely unsuccessful career as an artist in his early years. He is believed to have painted hundreds of pieces, although most art critics have been unmoved.

Made my day.

Dark British Movies Based on Real Life

Netflix has revamped their movie classification system, I suppose to improve their recommendations. That’s one of my ‘genres’ apparently.

So is Critically-Acclaimed Romantic Sci-fi and Fanasty.

Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper, anyone?

Beware of Strangers with Candy

Had a (very long) meeting today at work, part of which was devoted to a hilariously biased presentation about the Employee Free Choice Act.

Against, if you were curious.

Not that I think a union would be particularly helpful in our work environment, but 20 minutes of repetitive and very thinly veiled scare tactics were, I feel, wildly unnecessary.  The company doesn’t want a union mucking up their affairs. Okay, gotcha. One sentence, and we move on.

Bias annoys me.  I mean, I know we’re surrounded by it every day, and it certainly has it’s place. God knows everything on this page is viewed from my own personal slant.  But when you’re writing a presentation, or an article, or giving a speech or news report that start with the sentence “We just want you to have all the facts so you can make an informed decision” I’d like you to do just that, thanks.  Not give me the selected facts and half-truths that will motivate me to think/do as you want.

It’s like those high-fructose corn syrup commercials. “It’s all natural!” Well, yes but so is arsenic and cocaine.  Just saying.

Not that I mind commercials that try and sell me something. That is after all the point of them, and I have alot of respect for the advertising industry as a whole, as they do some pretty incredible things. Not in the least, providing talent and guidance that keeps every commercial on TV from being like the ones from Appliance Direct.  Don’t google it. If you haven’t seen them, you’re lucky.

But every morning on the news, I’m hearing news casters voicing opinions and asking for audience interaction in a way that I find totally contrary to the whole concept of unbiased and valuable reporting that I thought was supposed to be the foundation of our press.  I’m all for friendly banter. I think it’s cute when the morning news guy is excited about his team winning the night before.  But when he’s reporting, stick to the facts, dude.

In other news:

IT’S ALMOST GIRL’S WEEKEND. (This is a fact.)

I’M RIDICULOUSLY EXCITED. (Also a fact.)

I think this is precisely what I need after this week. (This is an opinion. )

Eeeeeeee!

Huh.

You know how you try and try and wait for something to happen and it doesn’t? And then you move on and focus on other things and suddenly that thing you wanted pops up in your face without you doing a damn thing?

An interior designer based in Madiera Beach just called me.  Saw my resume on Coroflot, this website I posted it on during that OMG FIND A JOB frenzy those first few months out of school, and totally forgot about.  Turns out, we have a first design job in common.

I’m meeting her Monday when I’m in town anyway. Maybe just to network.

We’ll see.

Not So Much My Week

The crack in my windshield has grown. My insurance guy seems incapable of picking up his phone when I call, and instead calls me when I’m at work and up a ladder. I’m off Friday. I’m gonna call him every hour for the entirety of his business day until I get a hold of him

I shall not be thwarted.

I burned my neck with my curling iron Monday morning.  Still have a mark.

Dropped a piece of furniture on my toe.  It hurt.

Pinched my finger in between the handles of my scissors badly enough that it bleed.

Today, I picked up a glass shelf that someone had left leaning against a wall, and it exploded.  Gave me a little cut on the wrist that bled quite a bit, I had a co-worker picking glass out of my hair, and I found some in my pocket and shoe.

And then I got home and dropped my keys in the locked recycling bin when I went to toss my junk mail.

I’m gonna go felt something.

Oh, that reminds me. This crazy winter? (And my job, prolly) Destroying my hands.  Nothing is helping. I’m gonna go by LUSH tomorrow, wave my hands in the shop girl’s face and say “Fix me”.

Linguaphile

My president just used the word bellicose in a sentence.

[ happy.]

It’s all Greek to Me

Spent nearly 9 hours of my Saturday with a ring of plastic garland on my head judging school pageants about Hercules that varied widely in quality.

WIDELY.

Two were f-ing spectacular.  One was middle school entry themed after an ancient Greek morning show (This is Cressidia, with the Alpha Beta Kappa Morning News), and one was a high school entry with musical accompaniment, and amazing sets and props.

Three were oh-my-god-I’m-embarrassed-for-them,-do-I-really-have-to-put-a-score-down-for-this bad.  In one of these, the Joker (yes, from Batman) attacked Hercules with an acid-flower gun, then killed him with a rainbow spotted teddy bear that emitted poison gas.   This violated the ‘original character’ requirement, the ‘original mythological creature with parts from two distinct animals’ requirement, the ‘takes place in ancient Greece’ requirement, the ‘proper characterization of Hercules’ requirement (because you know, he DIED), and the ‘create a new labor’ requirement ( the point and TITLE of the whole exercise) because the Joker just kinda jumped Hercules on the side of the road, there was no plot.  Even if the script, acting, and costumes were good we would have had to give these guys a low score.  And they weren’t.

Only one actually depicted Hercules wearing his lion skin. Everyone else wrapped some tiger, or leopard print around him.  That act was an elementary school entry, and the lion skin was a yellow hoodie, hood on, arms hanging free, with orange paper fringe around the base of the hood for a mane, and two big black x’s for eyes, so we “would know that it’s dead”.  It was so cute I nearly cried.

Five groups used fog machines. Five. There is no excuse for a fog machine in an 8 minute performance. EVER.  It doesn’t have time to warm up, it spits out a pitiful amount of smoke, it doesn’t distract us from your crappily painted sets because we’re only 1o feet away, and since every-one thinks fog machines are most effective pointed directly at the audience (no) when it does kick in, guess who gets a face-full of faux-fog?

I had fun though.  Might judge again at state.  Everyone I judged with said I should. But they said it in sort of that way that people tell you ‘wow, you’re really smart’ and you can’t tell if it’s a compliment or not.  I was apparently the only one who read up on the subject matter before hand.  I also gave the kids more advice, and more chances to talk themselves out of lost points than the others.  One of the guys teased me about ‘leading the witnessess’.  I have no idea if what I was doing was right, but none of the veteran judges said anything so…

Anyway.  The state compition is the day before we have to check in the hotels for the Tampa Build-Up. Might be too much for one weekend. We’ll see.

Because I haven’t had my fill of Greek tragedy for the weekend, I’m currently watching Troy on tv. I’m pretty sure I just spotted a llama. Llamas? Troy is in Turkey! -5 points.

But extra bonus points for Eric Bana’s Hector.  He breaks my heart every second he’s on screen.

God, I love this movie.

‘There are no pacts between lions and men.’