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Fefe came over Thursday afternoon, and updated me on my Fluffy, Muffy, Buffy, and Joanne future-life. Joanne (the sheep) is trans. Emma is
Fefe tells me Skarda's teaching a Da Vinci Code j-term course. Must e-mail that woman.
Cryptic note that I expect to understand when I read this as an old entry: Grocery store insanity My brother and I are efficiency addicts.
My brother was talking about how so few of the Red Sox who were part of the World Series winning team are still around. This made me sad, like you win the Series, stick around one season, and then leave? He said most of them weren't free agents, so they must have been traded, which makes me annoyed with the management. I imagine samfeasor would know the details.
Later that night, my brother and I got distracted by country's movies ratings while looking up movies online. [Now that I know what Rumor Has It is about I'm actually intrigued. Though it's not like I'll spend money on it. My Brokeback Mountain date got cancelled, though, so anyone who wants to use that as an excuse to come visit me....] We tracked down an MPAA explanatory essay and also an explanation of other countries. The stuff that France marks "U" (Universal)? Crazy.
Later, we were looking at yearbooks, and wow so many people I haven't thought of in ages. Part of me wants a five-year reunion to see where everyone's at, and part of me doesn't really wanna see them again, 'cause h.s. was awkward and it's not like things have gotten that much better. (If there is a five-year reunion, however, I am so going, and I will be soliciting for volunteers to be my hottie date for the night.)
I had a weird dream that night.
I yelled at Grandma (and Irene and Ginny) for being racist. "I get that this is a freedom of speech issue, but [you are being horrible people -- I forget exactly what I said, but it was along those lines]." (There was a report about black students being bad, and they/she were speaking approvingly of it, and it was an opinion piece so freedom of speech was valid but I just kinda pulled it outta thin air in an attempt to mitigate the one-sided-ness of my ranting. Tragically I know this was triggered by my brother's offensive comments in the car ride home when we were talking about Grandma badmouthing minorities.)
Then I was at some sports event function -- like I had walked up the street to my old high school, only very definitely not.
I met a heavy set guy named Gerard, but nothing particularly came of it.
Then I met Jaime -- a swimmer. He asked me to get him some sorbet, etc., and I was happy to do so as he was busy and I was not, but he ended up coming with me anyway, so we got treat food for both of us. Saw Bianca, who looked disapproving, but (mouth full) I said I was with him, 'cause I was. Another woman was interested in him, but he seemed to prefer me, and we exchanged numbers.
I had pre-existing plans to see a film, so I left and went to that. On my way back (at which time I was wearing some cloak thing and nothing underneath; I don't have an explanation for why I'm so frequently almost naked -- and uncomfortable about it -- in my dreams) through some dodgy area (Huntington to Back Bay?) some hip-hop looking black teens were catcalling me and when I got to the train station I sat on a bench with Chris Dalton (already there, on his cell phone) and pulled out my own cell phone (I forget whom I called) and we scooched together, a bit feared of the gangster type kids.
I came back to the sports function and slipped around a bit to find people I knew. I can't remember if I found Jaime, but as I was leaving, I bumped into Gerard's parents, who forgave me. I'm unclear on what the whole thing (something about his wife -- arranged marriage? -- and freedom, and I helped him realize stuff... and I hadn't known they were upset with me -- or even existed -- before they approached me, but okay.)
The part of all this that I cherish is Jaime -- attractive guy I liked who liked me back. Not entirely sure what my subconscious is up to, but it was a comforting thing to carry around all day.
I got a haircut. My mom says it makes me look older than I did before -- which is a blessing (last random person to guess my age was 8 years low, which is so not okay when one is 22 -- and I honestly have no need for it to happen decades from now). Elouai dolls have heads way too big for their bodies, but hey. (My hair so does not have that much body, though.)
Reading Shape magazine while waiting (I knew I should have brought a book) I felt like I was reading Playboy or something -- so many uber-toned women in sports bras and shorts.
Watched the first hour of WWE Smackdown with my dad. Oh, the Dicks. "[For New Years] they're gonna watch a ball drop and hang out." The writers have actually been understated and clever in the jokes they write.
Oh, Booker T.
(Speaking of JBL, I'm getting tired of having to suspend disbelief that everyone is terrified of a guy in facepaint who wiggles and eats worms. And I still maintain that Mick Foley Way to go JBL using his "image consultant" sex appeal lady as a human shield against the worms, though.)
"No deal. Thanks for the warm-up, though." Snap! The way they ended up playing the Melina thing, though? Playing with fire, guys; hardcore. It's obvious from the video that she had sex with him, hoping to profit her team that way, but if you just watched the "press conference" it's classic blame the victim, which is disturbing to encourage. I enjoyed the crowd chanting "Batista" at the beginning (sidenote: a sign that says "Animal Lover"...) but when they chanted "slut"... I don't like her at all, but I was disturbed.
(Requisite suspension of disbelief: He raped you, so you're suing for sexual harassment? Um, rape = criminal charges, and does not exactly equal "sexual harassment." But of course we've gotta keep it within the bounds of stuff we can film for a storyline.)
Bit jarring to watch the "Suburban Prostitution" Close to Home immediately after that.
[Sidenote: Browsing online, oh WWE and how you have no shame. I wanna know what the plotline is with this Mickie chick -- who, incidentally, is the least Barbie-looking of any of the Divas. Like, she looks downright normal -- in comparison to them, anyway.
Also: proof that WWE always plays to the middle: Trevor Murdoch gives his review of the movie "Brokeback Mountain."]
The rage in my last entry reminded me that I miss discussing. What I miss most about Smith is having people so close by, but a close second is discussions. Like, I actually miss Inklings class -- 'cause at least there were a couple dozen people who had theoretically read the same text I had and had some shared background, and I had a floor at which to air my opinions, and worstcase scenario I would just rage at the prof after class. (Ah, memories.) This is also my biggest disappointment about LiveJournal -- that the way it's formatted it's so easy to have lengthy multi-person conversations complete with easy references (hyperlinks) to other sources, but we are all so busy and only have so much time and energy. [There's also the issue of finding people with whom to discuss. For tv one can find comms to discuss eps as they air, but if one is catching up on DVD -- or watching movies or reading books, or heaven forfend fic -- it's harder, and sometimes one is dissatisfied by the caliber in comms one does find.]
I feel like I've been such a slacker this break, and in some ways I have and in some ways I haven't. I went through a slew of bookmarked fic to feedback/rec. On the other hand, I have less than 200 words of FemGen written. And it occurs to me that the huge amounts of sugar I've been consuming this week have probably been contributing to the whackedness of my sleep schedule. This does mean that I still have my phone on when Cat calls with random post-work joy, though :) ♥
The flist is resurrecting fandom opinion memes, which always makes me wanna write up manifestos of my opinions on ships/characters/arcs in all my fandoms. So, um, anyone who wants my opinions on anything, just ask.
New meme seen via oyceter: If I had a daemon, what would it be and why?