The Bananaverse

So the other day I was up to my nipples in Southern Comfort-I mean, laundry, and feeling just miserable so I took a Sudafed, which prompted me to ask “if I do an entire load of laundry that is just socks, will they all disappear?”

So here’s the scoop on my actual birthday stuff that you didn’t get as it happened:

-Scooter took me to Todai for dinner, and we ate a bunch of seafood and teeny desserts. Then he took me to see Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone! I was so happy. He doesn’t dig movies that much to begin with (in general), and this one is based on a book he hasn’t read, AND it’s really freakin long. So I was really excited to get to go. I dug it, too, it was cool except for a couple of thingsthat I personally didn’t think worked out, but most all of it was done just exactly how I saw it in my head. That’s my stellar review for you. d:

Anyway! I got super cool jammies and an autographed Nightmare Before Christmas (signed by Tim Burton) picture from Scooter. It was really cool. That’s about it for now, really, since the only present I have left is the one from my dad that I won’t get until later this week. Rar!

My friend Jon is very cool. I met him in 1997 (I think) because his friend wanted to meet me and so he hauled Jon along for the ride. They appeared at my door and I went traipsing off to La Carreta for some food and (more importantly) some drinks and just general out of the house away from the computer time.

As we got a little chatty we realized that Jon and I are about 6 weeks apart agewise, both grew up in small towns (and the experience scarred us each forever), both couldn’t resist making a smart remark, and laughed at a lot of the same things. We spent most of the evening entertaining the hell out of each other and sort of ignoring his friend and his friend’s date since we were too busy enjoying each other. We discussed how “These chicken chimichangas are really good” and Ramblin Rod and all kinds of other weird stuff. Then when they dropped me off, Jon said “You know what? There’s new friends, when you have to get to know someone from scratch, and then there’s old friends where as soon as you meet it feels like you are just picking up where you left off. You and I are old friends.” And that was one of the nicest things anybody has ever said to me.

We continued to hang out and amuse each other and mouth off about whatever for quite awhile. Sometimes things sucked and we’d talk about them and what had happened and try to make each other laugh or at least feel a little better about what was going on. It was really neat. I went through a few jobs, as did he, and we both sort of sat around agreeing with each other (usually late at night) and we filled in blanks in each other’s lives (this one time in grade school…) (we had this horrid cabin in outdoor school!) and enjoyed the sort of drunken rowdy ways of the late night set. We talked on IRC and Jon would snap photos of his friend in bed with whoever and say “Who wants to see what’s going on in my bed RIGHT NOW?” and of course everyone would say yes so he’d get his quickcam on and show it to everybody so we could all go “ew!” and share in his amusement and grossout. We made a birthday cake for his roomie that didn’t show up for his own party and so we drank all the tequila we had purchased for this fest and on realizing that the guest of honor wouldn’t be showing we lit the candles on the cake anyway and had someone pretend to be him and blow out the candles so we could eat the cake. We put on porn and critiqued the acting and the lighting and the gymnastic ability and cinematography. We shouted through the hole in the kitchen ceiling/bathroom floor. We went to the Thirsty I and pestered the bartender into feeding us. We watched NewsRadio. (note: that was almost “NewsRardio”. It’s weird to type r and a without another r at the end.) We giggled and wrote advice columns from The Dairy Queens for a porn website. We swam in the pool at my apartment complex when it was hot. We sat in my air conditioned apartment and cooled off. Jon flung himself into the pool and broke his foot. We did nothing on Thursdays while said porn site got updates. We drank some more. We revelled in the drunken revelry that is AbFab. We slobbered over Pet Shop Boys records. We unleashed Christine on the Net. We did each other’s hair. We painted whatever toenails we could reach: our own or others. We went to Walgreen’s in the middle of the night to find the perfect Caboodle-esque container for Jon’s out of hand nail polish fetish. We mocked some freaky guy in the pool whose name actually was Jethro. We bought horrid nail files with gawdawful designs on them. We went yard-sale-ing and frightened people. We went to Tower and frightened people. We bought Spice Girls singles and Backstreet Boys singles (again, frightening people) and swore to admit nothing. We slobbered over whatever fad was going on at the moment. He sampled my unique fish taco (which sounds gross and/or naughty, but isn’t. What it is however, is a long story). We watched South Park. We imitated foulmouthed animated eight year olds at every (inappropriate) opportunity. We quoted Showgirls far more than anyone should. We operated on our computers, adding speed and memory and space and illegal software and ill-gotten serial numbers. We moved. We moved some more. We survived roommate-based crabs. We survived the second wave of the scare. We worked on a porn site. We ranted and raved. We went dancing. We went drinking. We went drinking and dancing. We mocked people at the mall.

We found out his friend had a new boyfriend. We discovered this boyfriend had a Jonlike counterpart. We approached her with suspicion: how could there be another twentysomething tolerating an 18 year old roommate at his randy randy peak? And yet it was true. And after having reached the peak of tolerating cutesy teenaged newfound relationship yuckyness, we decided to have 23 Year Old Day, where they were not invited under any circumstances to join us. Just ‘grownups’ for this fateful Saturday. This was the day I got to spend some serious time with Bambi. We realized very early on that we were each the sort of grrly type that we were looking for in other grrly types and had yet to find. She has been quoted as saying “You knew the words to the first Wham! album. It was then that I decided to keep you.” And she grew up not far from me so we had that in common, as well as that momentous discovery of love of the first Wham! album and to a lesser extent, All Things George Michael, and the joy of realizing that we were so much alike that we could actually have grrly friends instead of all gay boys all the time. It is with Bambi that “rar” and all that is associated with it originated. So now there were three of us to raise hell and drink and be rowdy, and yet I now had a grrly ally in the world to help me with shopping and could understand my need for new underpants or whatever. More on her later.

Jon now had a relatively stable roomie and she was fantastic. We very nearly wet our pants laughing at the Clackadeli. We discovered the intrinsic joy in the prefix “Clacka”. We decided to film things in stunning Clackavision. We found out that the area’s stadium was very nearly the Clackadome. We laughed even harder. We got more jobs and moved again. Friendships came apart as teenaged friendships do, very little remorse on the part of the kid who has virtually no perspective. Still we hung out and enjoyed each other. We started the XX-Year-Old-Club which we were the exclusive members of. We watched the Death Machine spiral into fundamentally deadly. We ate at the Leaky Roof and mocked the nearby TV station. We listened to rats in Jon’s apartment walls. We laid out “issues” of the porn site. I wrote diatribes on safe sex and stupid people and butts. We slobbered inappropriately over Ricky Martin. We got jobs together and terrorized an office full of headset whores. We still amused the hell out of each other. Jon took a message from a guy named Tuat. I relayed a message saying “The goat is down!”. We had to say “Jason blah blah blah blahblah Benefits Group” a thousand times a day with a straight face. We went to a Christmas Party on Peacock Lane. We sent heating oil trucks gallivanting all over the metro area. We landed planes. We checked callers against a “nut case” list. We spent a lot of time at the mart across the street. We were chained to desks for barely minimum wage. We were supposed to take it and like it. All we had for sanity was each other. We hissed at a girl who was a stripper. We passed notes via terminal screens like it was junior high. We bitched about the fact that some airheaded boy got hired at about twice what we made and he did half the amount of work. We got individually screwed by the company in interesting ways. We updated the porn site. We went Christmas shopping at Ross Dress For Less until we couldn’t carry any more stuff. We set up a Powerbook for Scooter for Christmas. We watched The House Of Yes and regretted it. We watched some wrong wrong wrong movie where Parker Posey lusted after her brother. We sat horrified while Christopher Lowell made something “fun” with duct tape and some things purchased from Wal-Mart. We watched more AbFab. He got a Nun Snowglobe which we oohed and aahed over until she beached herself. We shopped at the Ghetto Safeway. We ogled the apartment’s fixit guy. We froze in our crummy apartments. We angered neighbors. We had a fat bunch of Christmas all over the place. We celebrated birthdays. And then we took a trip.

We went to Las Vegas to see a Pet Shop Boys Concert Event Extravaganza. We watched the Blair Witch Project the night before to kill some time since we couldn’t sleep. We giggled till we passed out about an hour before we had to leave and we left. We mumbled obscenity and sucked down coffee. We got on the plane and still couldn’t figure out the fuss over that damn movie. We got to Vegas and marvelled at the 1970s stylings of the airport. We went to that great big castle and flopped down our stuff. Jon’s room was uberstanky. He called me and misdialed and got someone who answered the phone saying “Bueno?” We took rides on Ye Olde Conveyore Belte. We were horrified by the WWF cafe. We gambled on nickel machines and drank Midori till we could hardly stand up. We won a bunch of nickels. We signed up for every retarded thing we could find. We ate buffets until we very nearly popped. We were seated by a Disneymatronic waitress unclear on the concept of “I don’t care if it’s smoking or non-smoking, seat me in that booth!” We went to Star Trek: The Experience and had an Experience. We found that in every hotel, the place where you wait to be seated is always through the casino to the place you actually get seated. We discovered that no matter what, there is always a casino between point A and point B. We went to the Forum Shops. We Raced To Atlantis. We watched animatronics spurt fire and put on pretty light shows. We saw Versace things. We rode in a gondola down a canal while the conductor sang Happy Birthday to me in Italian. We saw the Pet Shop Boys. We were amazed. We YMCA-ed to New York City Boy. I offered all the money in my purse to sit in your minivan for 10 minutes. We discussed Rumpus Maximus. We giggled all night about Sigfried and Rhoid. We horrified Scooter by being amazed by Roy’s Package. We mocked Scooter’s Royd-based-fantasies. We rode a roller coaster. We peeled shrimp. We saw the spectacle of the Pimp & Ho Ball go by. We made fun of stuff. We touched fake stuff. Bambi and I bolted down a moving walkway to touch fake llamas. We saw an Elvis impersonator. We did a bunch of stuff I can’t remember. We came home.

Jon and Bambi threw me a Star Wars Birthday Party Extravaganza Event. We ate dinner and I got all Star Wars presents wrapped in Star Wars wrapping paper. We ate Star Wars cake. We had Star Wars streamers. I had the best birthday party I’ve ever had. Jon had a Barbie Birthday and we had horrible cake and I gave him horrible presents and we sat in the hot tub until way too late and giggled and he got a Barbie Birthday Watch that I was very very proud of. We gave each other horrible gifts, tacky gifts, just plain wrong gifts, and really nice thoughtful gifts. We went to see Bambi’s sister graduate and didn’t kill her parents and we sang along to Cher and got a speeding ticket and went to Wal-Mart and ate at Appleby’s and still didn’t kill her parents and eventually made it back home. We went out and we went to the mall and we crashed on each other’s couch from time to time and watched movies and shopped. I assembled Nun O Rama as a birthday gift which is still talked about to this day. We told each other to Fuck Off a lot.

Then Scooter proposed. We ran around like mad people. He kept my sanity in check. We giggled at horrid weddingy things. He curled ribbon for bells. We were stunned by the crap that passes for tradition. We ran around some more. We expeditioned to far off places for random things. We rode to Timberline in the Civic, after dashing all over town to find a Neil Diamond CD. We had to have my dress in the back with me and we barely fit. We stopped at Taco Bell. We stopped at the liquor store. We drank heavily. We bitched about everything. We were excited about everything. We were sweaty. We managed rehearsal dinner (barely). We didn’t manage my brother and he terrorized Jon. We drank heavily. We painted my toenails blue. We passed out. We got up at six. Jon ate breakfast with my grandmother. I got married. We ate a bunch of food. I honeymooned, and came back, and we continued to have fun and amuse each other. Jon and Bambi start to realize it’s each other that they really truly love. Jon and I go engagement ring shopping for Bambi. We keep explaining that it’s not my ring. We go to Sears. We find the ring. We share a profound moment of happiness. Jon and Bambi come over and we get loaded and play Mickey Mouse Rally Racing or some such thing. Jon laughs at the guy going the wrong way before he realizes it’s his guy.

And then Jon and Bambi moved to Hell. I didn’t know what to do. So there’s a lot less “we” then there used to be. I don’t mind it so much now, but I was a wreck for awhile. We emailed and sent horrible things via snail mail to each other. We went to Disneyland together for their wedding. We rode rides and hugged a lot. I don’t know when they’re coming back forever, but I wish it could be soon so that I don’t have to miss them so much anymore.

I know that I forgot about a squillion things we have done or not done or shared or whatever, but I did my best to cover most of the important eras in our friendship. Jon, if you read this and you think of some I missed, let me know. I can always edit entries. (:

He is a smart funny outspoken opinionated obnoxious hilarious kind evil person and I love him.

And that (in a nutshell) is my friend Jon.

heh. So I took yet another little test and changed an answer here and there and submitted it each time and I got a little different answer every time. Here they are:

chewbacca!

Fat Bob!

Corey!!

So there you go. Quite the diverse group of personality types, no? Just to add to the random effed upedness of this post is the following: Yesterday I got to do a bit of shopping and I picked up the world’s coolest sweater. I would go so far as to say that it is hoopy! It’s purply with stripes and it is absolutely the coolest thing I have bought myself in a long long time (probably since I got the Matrix action figures on top of my monitor). So there you go. Chewbacca, Fat Bob, Corey Feldman, and a purply stripey sweater. Thank you. That is all.

Our office manager told me that she went to like two or three different places to find me a Harry Potter cake for my birthday. I work in the coolest place to work in the history of places to work. I love it here. After a year I still really really like it and I love coming to work every day.

(For those just joining us, or those already with us who have a warped sense of time, today is my birthday. here’s the first update on that.) So I got a couple of presents last night in the mail. I got a cool bunch of chocolate stuff (Ghiradelli, no less!) in a groovy gift bag from my sister-in-law (still a bit weird to say) and that was awesome in itself. Then I opened the larger box, direct from Hell ^H^H^H^H I mean, LipLash and this box contained the following:

-One psycho llama
-One Palm Beach Barbie
-One Zen Board

And now I shall elaborate on these things.

Psycho llama is this thing that Liplash spent a whole dollar on. (All of it! The ENTIRE thing! He cried as I told him I’d gotten it and my subsequent reaction.) It’s this blobular object with what appear to be bits of sticks glued to it and a couple of weird weaselly evil eyes and I guess in Utah this passes for a Llama-esque creature. (Yeah, I know I could have said Llama-like, but Llama-esque seems grander somehow.) It’s really wrong and it horrified him so he decided (as is usually the case with horrifying purchase-able items) that I must have one. All I can say is wow.

Palm Beach Barbie on the other hand, is another matter altogether. She is remarkable because her clothes don’t come off ever. The bikini is molded on as part of her body so she can never be naked. Never, do you hear me? NEVER!! Palm Beach Ken however, gets real clothes which you can yank from his body quite freely and with reckless abandon. In doing a search to find this picture, I discovered a few things:
-Some people have far too much time on their hands
-The number of hits I got with “Barbie and Utah” is alarming indeed.
-I found a description of Barbie as “some colorblind Midwestern hooker” and realized that this was my opinion all along! It’s weird how sometimes people can get in your head and pull out stuff that you never knew was there. Don’t believe me? Read it yourself.
-There’s this guy who got sued by Mattel for taking amusing photos of Barbies in various positions which I thought were really entertaining, but I guess if you’re trying to pimp this unhealthy body image and ideal lifestyle to yet another generation of girls with lots of disposable income and middle aged people who are trying to recapture their youth, you sort of have to watch out for this sort of thing. He won, which is cool, but the fact that they tried is sort of retarded. Anyway! Yeah. Palm Beach Barbie.

And then I got the “real” gift in the box, the Zen Board which I totally dig and I think it’s just completely awesome. YAY! You draw on it and then it disappears and you draw some more! It rules. I love it. I will play with it a lot because it’s super groovy and fun and a bit off center. Just like me. (:

In non-Liplash news, I got a card (and cash) from my mom, and three webcards thus far which I was THRILLED to get, and since I filled out all this stuff on Yahoo, my My Yahoo! page told me happy Birthday too! (: My dad emailed me a happy birthday too, which was cool. He said he got my gift but it was too big to ship so I won’t get ahold of it till probably Thanksgiving or something.

So far, it’s been a super cool birthday. I got a lot of “happy birthday”s from people I work with, and I got a copy of the Star Wars Radio Dramatizations just by coming to work. It was awesome. I hope it just continues to not suck (:

So! Wil Wheaton is going to be in the next Trek movie. This is cool on several levels, as he himself outlines on his page. Of course with all things news being Trek related, his modest (but very cool) site got /.ed and mefi-ed and all other sorts of links that made people nuts for awhile. He’s just the coolest. I don’t know why anyone would badmouth him ever. As his blog illustrates, he’s well spoken and freakin hilarious and likes to post random bits of things like I do sometimes, which I do because I think it’s small but meaningful and I don’t want it to get lost in my head among the pieces of 80’s trivia and Star Wars piles and Apple Computer factoids. Now if I could just get him to write something on his site about how my blog is cool and hip and interesting and golly aren’t I cute and now he has a crush on me because I’m way cooler now than I was before. Cuz then we’d be even, and stuff. And I know it will never happen but I do have a birthday coming up and I might as well wish for something, right?

Which reminds me: My dad said he had my birthday present but it’s too big to ship. I’m totally excited about whatever it is, but I won’t have it on my birthday. However, Liplash said that he is sending me a psycho llama, Mormon Travesty Barbie, and some sort of “actual” birthday gift too. Scooter is keeping mum on the whole thing and tries to change the subject when I pester him about it. Bless his twisted warped hilarious sweet little heart. It’s cute now. But all bets are off at Christmas.

I’ll keep you updated on the birthday thing (like you care). And by the way, you’ll notice I didn’t like to LipLash’s journal this time. He hasn’t updated since the birth of Christ, so why should I taunt you with a link to potentially new content? hmmm? WHY SHOULD I???? (I’m hoping to motivate that big blonde bitch into putting something, ANYTHING on to his site. I hope this helps. And while we’re on the subject of motivation, can you please keep your ass from calling me? It’s starting to freak me out.)

(:

Hot off the web:

WASHINGTON (AP) - The Justice Department wants to talk to 5,000 young male foreigners who entered the country from Middle Eastern and other countries as part of the terrorism investigation, officials said Tuesday.

A list of 5,000 names was being distributed to federal prosecutors around the country who were ordered to work with state and local police to locate and interview the men, said Justice Department spokeswoman Mindy Tucker. The interviews would be voluntary, she said.

The men are not suspects, said Tucker, but “people who we think might be helpful” in assisting authorities investigating the Sept. 11 attacks and possible new attacks.

“They could be witnesses, we won’t know until we talk to them,” said Tucker.

The names were compiled from immigration and State Department records of foreigners who sought entry into the country since Jan. 1, 2000 on tourist, student and business visas. Only men aged 18 to 33 with nonimmigrant visas and a U.S. address went on the list.

Tucker declined to name which countries the immigrants to be questioned came from but said the list of nations would include those that have surfaced in investigations of Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaida organization. Countries that have been way stations for the Sept. 11 hijackers and other terrorists would be on the list.

A number of the 19 hijackers from the Sept. 11 attacks entered the United States from Europe and some obtained visas in Saudi Arabia.

Tucker did not have details about what questions the foreigners would be asked but said they would not be questioned about their religious beliefs and practices. They can decline to be questioned but authorities hope they will cooperate.

“We’ve allowed them to come into this country and we expect them to help,” said Tucker.
———-

So when are they going to interview everyone in Florida? That’s a place that “surfaced in investigations of Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaida organization”. Not to mention that it’s one of the “way stations for the Sept. 11 hijackers and other terrorists” according to them. So shall we just round up Florida and put them all in prison till we can get the military tribunal junk underway and try them all in secret? I mean, they’ve tried to disrupt this country once already, how much more can we be expected to take from them?

It astounds me that they expect people to take it and like it. The whole reason a lot of people come here is so they DON’T have to put up with precisely this sort of crap. (By crap I mean being singled out for a particular characteristic that those in power find objectionable.) And this whole “evil evildoers doing evil evilly” or whatever it is that we’re officially referring to terrorists as now is sort of disturbing because of the broad brush we’re using to paint an awful lot of people. It’s the same sized brush they used to paint us, and look what happened there.

When I hear all of this frantic breathless Chicken Little sort of stuff, and I realize a lot of it isn’t as bad as they want me to think (because I apply a bit of thought and realize what they’re actually saying) it always reminds me of something a friend said to me one day when I was particulary cranky and complaining about stuff. “Ah, well, worse things happen at sea and what-not.” That is funny every time. I stuck it to my monitor because it amused me so. And there it has remained. It’s from April. But it was awesome. (:

At least I have a site that tells me the news and gives me some entertaining bits along with it. (sigh)

I’m totally tired. This sucks. Scooter and I kept waking each other up like, all night long. I think he might be getting a bit sick, he’s sort of got that look on his face and he isn’t sleeping well and stuff. 10pm bedtime tonight! I don’t care what sort of homework he has.

In other news, I changed my mood icons because I think these are cute. I’ll probably change them back and stuff, but for now we’ll see what we get. Anyway…

I’m really sleepy but I found a new site for you all to investigate. You’re probably familiar with these guys, breathless reporters from the dotcom front. Of course, when that started to slide down the hill and edge towards reality, you now can get your snarky doses of reality checking (or blessings counting, till you make the list) here. Closely related is the warm fuzzy version, found here as an antidote to it’s evil twin site. Well as with all good things, someone now has made fun of them with this site. It’s impressive. Witty, funny, in the spirit of the original, and has not ceased to amuse me since I stumbled across it. If you’re feeling particularly brave, you may want to click here for some good clean adult and decidedly not underaged fun. Tasteless and disturbing on several levels. Truly. Or as I said to someone earlier, evil AND entertainment all in one convenient package. Wow. So there you go. Some hot linking action for you on this sullen desolate Tuesday (it is here, anyway).

Scooter just said to me “Why don’t you let me Pledge your ass and drag you around on the floor?” (We have hardwood floors.)

I really wonder about him sometimes.

So, in case I haven’t mentioned it, I’ve discovered a few sites that amuse me. There is of course, the Monkey Spank Site of lore, but that’s not all!

Wil Wheaton dot net is a far cooler site than it has any right to be, allegedly. I stumbled across his /. interview (don’t make me explain /.) and dug it, which, in conjunction with a really humourous ad on TNN for ST:TNG featuring him, upped my admiration a few points. He’s well spoken and geeky and has tons of opinions. Not to mention he has remained quite the cutie. Too bad we’re both married. Rowr! (:

Anyway, so in addition to like, rekindling my crush on Wil Wheaton and Spanking the Monkey (I just realized how horrible that sounded together) I have discovered an even more frightening link: this one. While it was alarming enough in it’s own right, the creepy thing is that he is like all cool and stuff too! XML all over the site, Frontier, OS X, and he’s got some geeky job, too. eeek. NOW if I could just find out what happened to Kevin Seal!

I’ve been enjoying Penny Arcade as much as ever, and Sinfest is usually entertaining too. I’ve mentioned Moby, and those are really the biggest things I hit that aren’t info sites like VersionTracker and news sites. Anyway!

We allegedly get our cable modem service tomorrow. even with the rate hike it comes out ~$15 less a month. A friend with access to AT&T info doesn’t hurt any, either. Found out about all the stuff in our area and everything. Now if they can just be bothered to set it up. Why is internet access such a freakin nightmare? If you don’t think it can be as bad as all that, you haven’t been reading my lj very long, have you?

God, it’s only like 2 and I’m already wanting to go home. It’s not fair. And I’ve been very successful today, I broke a bunch of stuff this morning and then whipped up some demo table magic and ate lunch, so it’s been a full day, really. I want to go curl up on the couch in the sunshine and nap.

My birthday is in a week! If you have a deep inner need for gift-giving, comment and I’ll tell you how to send me treats.

I’m still a bit weirded out by that link, so I’m off to investigate it further (of course). I’ll let you know about my findings.

This evening I called my dad (it’s Wednesday, it’s the law that we must speak) and as he was saying goodbye to me, I don’t know what happened to me, but it was really hard to do. I sat here alone at my computer (Scooter had errands) and I was listening to a song that was sort of sad and I was just settling in for a nice stretch of feeling miserable and I felt really bad and was missing my dad and stuff, and just when I was feeling my lowest, an irc channel I hang out in mentioned an url I had pasted earlier (it’s for monkey spanking) and I saw the following:

hmm i can only get around 347 spanking the monkey
347mph is my best spank
i own j00 @spanking the monkey, 721 mph!

posted by a friend of mine online. I laughed and laughed and laughed and then another friend of mine was reading my earlier posts and told me that since he was pissed off about the same thing, he is going to run for president and I’ll be his veep. I thought it was interesting. We had fun discussing it, anyway, and that made me laugh too. So I was sitting here feeling miserable and somehow the universe sent me amusement to cheer me up. It was really cool. I was even more cheered up when I realized what had happened. And now Scooter’s home and it’s bedtime so me and my icicle toes are off to go to sleep now. Kickboxing tomorrow, I have to get sort of psyched up for that. Nighty night!

It generally seems as though I flop down for a quick little post and I end up with quite the rant on my hands. We’ll just see.

So there was a threat against suspension bridges on the West Coast. Well, there’s only one here (and even that’s up for debate), and what terrorist would really have a hardon for Portland Oregon anyway? Sorry, but if you’re going to hit a suspension bridge on the west coast, I bet you can’t even name any except the Golden Gate. Most people can’t. It’s not a big deal, just the way it is. Which should explain why it’s so very very important that every bridge in Portland (again, only one suspension bridge, and that’s a maybe) is swarming with cops. Now they take it all back. Not a credible threat, they say. Heightened alert, they say. dude!

Now, I fully respect the position they’re in…if we don’t say anything and the jello hits the fan, that’s bad PR. If we say something every time and nothing happens, we’re back to the bad PR. So I see it and I don’t. Because if Secretary Of Defense Chicken Little continues in this fashion he’s going to get even less popular than he already is. And speaking of unpopular cabinet members, the shiny new Attorney General is going to go after doctors in Oregon for the assisted suicide bill. Well, not exactly, but he’s going to yank licenses of doctors who write prescriptions for assisted suicide, which you can’t tell just by looking at the prescription. It’s not like they send you to Walgreen’s with a slip of paper saying 500 mg Hemlock or something. Anyway. I can’t remember the precise thing he wants to do, but he was told not to do it by one Oregon senator and a couple of other people (if I recall) and he did it anyway. Fucker. You have to jump through hoops for all of this anyway, I can’t just sashay in to the dr. and say “today’s a good day to die!” and expect it to happen. There’s second opinions and shit involved. Not to mention that the law was taken to the Supremes who said it was up to the states to decide on the issue. And we did. TWICE. Jeezy Creezy. How many times do we have to say that we as a state think this is a good idea? Does anyone understand the freaking process anymore? What if I don’t like some law, can I hang it up in court forever and get all worked up about it and make people vote on it again? I understand it’s part of the process, but now that we voted for it TWO SEPARATE TIMES this dickhead walks in and says “um, sorry, but no.” Who the fuck is he to tell us what we will and will not do? Especially this. God it pisses me off. It’s not like the whole state is 5 and wants ice cream for dinner and he’s saying that it isn’t best for us. It makes me want to get really involved with politics and try to make a difference. But who would listen to a twentysomething fluffy headed freckly girl full of Star Wars trivia and useless music and pop culture information that likes to color and has a desk full of toys? Not many people, I’m guessing. “Vote for me, I like cartoons!” riiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

So anyway, this was all about Chicken Little and the imminent collapse of sky. Be on higher alert. Go on with your life. We think they’ll blow up bridges. Don’t let them scare you. Guess what, sport? It isn’t the freaking terrorists that scare me, it’s you and your fucked up policies and all the stern faced press conferences and the mixed messages and the fact that you spend all this time in front of the camera and yet your handlers have yet to find a way to make you be someone I want to watch, even if you’re telling me the score to the last game of the World Series. You’re government for sobbing out loud, can’t you requisition a personality or something? Tell you what: At least learn how to PRETEND this stuff matters to you, and we will pretend it matters to us. I do my best to avoid it anymore, I’m tired of hearing half of a story, part of the information, or a story that is two minutes long and contradicts itself from beginning to end. I wouldn’t mind so much if they’d at least be consistent. (I’m a girl so I can say this) You’d think the way they run around flip-flopping on their statements it was a bunch of women running things. No, wait. If it was women, some of them probably would be moms, and moms wouldn’t put up with shit like this. They’d ask nicely, then they’d be a bit forceful, then they’d use the Taliban’s middle name, and then they’d count to 3 and it’d be all over. No negotiating, no weaselling out of it, out comes the wooden spoon (or equivalent) and that’s the end of it. Some people say that if women were in charge of stuff that there’d be no fighting or whatever because women would want to talk it all over first and usually be able to avoid conflict. That may well be true. But the part nobody touches on is that women also know when to stop asking nicely and start spanking. I think that’s what really needs to be considered.

Anyway. I’m sick of higher alert and all that crap. Like I’m not already pretty freakin edgy to start with and you want me to be even more so? How? Tell me how. I mean, start with the fact that I’m a girl which causes me to be aware of my surroundings and stuff anyway. Who’s around me, is it a well lit area, etc etc. So I’m on a little bit of alert as a base level. Then add the necessary adjustments for commuting home in the dark, catching a bus at night, going someplace alone, etc. NOW I have to be on the lookout for terrorists on top of on the lookout for perverts and street punks and freaks (oh my!) AND I have to go on with my life and not let them win but NOW I have to add a ‘higher state of alert’ to all of that? Congratulations. I’m now a prisoner in my own home. Fuck you, Rumsfeld. It isn’t fundamentalists on the other side of the world who scare me. It’s you and your out of left field right wing politics and your alarmist rhetoric and your constant contradiction. Bin Laden? Not so scary. Buchanan? Fundamentally (no pun intended) frightening. I am less worried about a jihad brought forth by a few people far away than I am about the agendas being furthered by Ashcroft and Helms and Thurmond and other people who really ought to be ignored. I would say stopped, but it’s a free country. I’m just as entitled to say that they suck as they are to suck. Plus hushing them turns them into underground icons of rebellion and gets them more attention. They should just be ignored. Or mocked. Repeatedly.

OK, I’m going to stop now, it’s just going to get me more and more worked up and I’ll never be able to get to sleep. But I was right, huh? One little thing and I went on and on. I need to learn to focus my synapse firing on one thing at a time. (:

Saw Monsters Inc yesterday. I really liked it. And the Ep II Teaser is sort of interesting, and it probably would have been more interesting if the woman behind me had been able to shut the hell up for it instead of asking her kids if it was star trek or star wars and on and on. blah. Oh well. I sort of like it, just enough to make you go “ooooh”. But then, the Ep I Trailer was really cool too, and yet the movie was less than stellar. So I guess I’m still going wtih like, guarded optimism. I about passed out to see it, even though it’s really short. Waaaaay shorter than the ‘teaser’ for Ep I. But it kicked my whole ass. Too bad I can’t get it on my computer, Uncle George, fan of Apple, poster of Quicktime, user of Macs, couldn’t be bothered to set up a system where I could access the “exclusive dvd-rom content” (which is a website) on my iMac, which happened to be the first (and still one of the few) which ship with a DVD-ROM drive. So it just sort of irks me, and I’ve read the message boards on starwars.com about why this is and blah blah blah. Well, the “player” they picked is even giving windows users problems. It just sort of personally saddens me, I feel let down that they would pick a half-assed way of doing things. It’s what Disney is starting to do with stuff and it makes me sad. ANYWAY!

Monsters Inc is a very cute movie and it made me happy to go see and I really liked the characters and stuff. One thing I personally really enjoyed was that Boo ran around a lot going “rar, rar, rarrr!” and stuff. (: Plus John Goodman is a comedic genius. He was hosting SNL last night and he’s just freakin awesome. I can’t even believe that he’s “the dad on Roseanne” which was a funny show and everything, but it never showed him like, as a Blues Brother, and as a raving lunatic and as all these other things he’s played and played brilliantly. I didn’t realize I was such a fan until last night when I realized I couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done that I hadn’t really enjoyed. And of course Billy Crystal is great too. He does a really good job as Mike, and it was funny at first to think of the people behind the voices. That didn’t last long, you sort of get caught up in the movie and you forget about all that. I really enjoyed it and I can’t wait for the Special Edition 2 DVD set. (:

Speaking of Special Editions, we got Shrek on Friday and I watched that. It was SUPER SUPER SUPER cool. I enjoyed it so very much. It’s really cool to see where things are going with animation and stuff. I get a whole extra level of enjoyment out of this stuff, cuz on top of just liking movies and stuff, I am a big ol geek too. So it’s fun that way too.

Scooter took off to do some shopping so I think I’m goign to watch another movie now, since I haven’t seen it yet. Traffic. I might discuss it here if it’s worth it.

I saw Citizen Kane recently on DVD. It looks really nice for being however old it is. I had a problem with the perspective of it though. He runs for office and is fully scandalized and disgraced by a story about him being in the apartment of this girl and they made it sort of sound like maybe they were having an affair but it wasn’t really clear. I would guess that they were, though. I just had a hard time believing how scandalous it was. It was kind of weird to wrap my head around how that is such a horrible horrible thing. I enjoyed the movie, but I can’t get all worked up over it like people usually do. I just don’t understand. It’s a good movie and I liked it and the pace was nice and all that stuff, but people seem to equate seeing Citizen Kane to seeing God, and I just can’t make it there. Maybe I’m just not the movie snob I need to be to really see what it is that makes it amazing. ah well…I’m off to slack and watch movies. yay! (:

heh.

I AM 55% GEEK.

Nerd, Freak, Geek, Dweeb. Sound familiar? That’s okay, cause I will be the richest person at my 15th year high-school reunion. If a “con” isn’t happening that weekend.

Take the GEEK Test at Fuali.com!

I AM 51% PUNK.

The intelligent punk. Tuff and Smart. I may be able to maintain a train of thought long enough… What the fuck was I talking about?

Take the PUNK/POSER Test at Fuali.com!

I AM 69% GOTH.

Image and attitude are my paths to Goth-dom. Graceful and scary. I am the Master, with many slaves.

Take the GOTH Test at Fuali.com!

Wow. So I’m pretty geeky, more than half punk (I’m punk like Henry Rollins! That’s so awesome!) And alarmingly Goth. That’s a full afternoon right there, really.

Just to add to all of this madness, don’t forget that I also rate on the Robot Test as R2-D2, Wise Trash Can. Beep-oop!

Still more info: My first name means “Mighty Warrior” and my middle name means “Peaceful Meadow”. No wonder I’m such a conflicted person…

So the US declared a war on Terrorism. Terrorism isn’t a country, it isn’t a planet, it is actually not a clearly definable thing. That’s like declaring a war on art, or obscenity, or meanness. The line where something stops being violence and starts being terrorism is a little different for everybody, I bet. Just like the line for art or icky or mean. It’s interesting to me that everyone seems to think it’s a good idea to declare such a war. Even though everyone says we’re at war, including our Knucklehead In Chief, I don’t remember ever hearing that the war had officially been declared.

I mean, stop and think about it for just a second. When was the last time we declared a war that wasn’t on a country? Oh, but we haven’t ever done this before, you say. Yes, yes we have. You may have done your best to block it from your mind, but I haven’t. I am a product of the nightmare that is the War On (are you ready? wait for it…) DRUGS! Yes! Remember now? Yup. DARE and Nancy and Just Say No and all that crap.

Random Observation: Just Say No was popular just about the same time Nike busted out with Just Do It. So which one is it? No, the media doesn’t send mixed messages at all….

Where was I? Oh yeah, this stupid “war”. I’m not saying it isn’t stupid to seek retribution, and I’m not saying anything about the people that have been sent. I just don’t think we’re going about this in the right way. I’m not sure that this is a good way to go, but then, I’m not sure about a lot of things, the least of which being that violence is a knee-jerk reaction that never really accomplishes what it was you really wanted. Anyway. Stop and think for a minute about the War On Drugs. We’re still fighting it. We’re still spending alarming amounts of money to fight it. We’re still looking for ways to win it. And most importantly, we’re still losing it. I’m not a member of the crime underworld or anything, but I have a pretty good idea where to start looking for just about any illegal substance I desire. (We’ll pause here a moment in case my mom is reading and she just fainted from shock.) It isn’t because I do that or anything, it’s just that I sort of pay attention to what goes on around me, so I can kind of do the math. Now apply this to what’s going on around us currently. This is a war I do not think that we can win. I’m bothered by the fact that people are being sent to fight and they aren’t necessarily fighting “for” something. Andy Card and all these other talking heads can spin it however they’d like, but I don’t think that our freedom is at stake here, and I don’t know that people have to die for things to be “even” or whatever the hell the reason is that we’re over there bombing people.

If ranting like this makes me unamerican, then fine, I’m unamerican. I just really think there has to be another way to solve the problem we’re having. And don’t even get me started on this whole anthrax thing. Ever read The Stand? Yeah. Like that. But not so much violent death and no escaping lab guy. That we know of.