I am a husk.

However, it could be way worse:

I could not have a Netflix account,

I could not have a library card, and

I could be an unattractive husk.

So, yeah - never let it be said that I lack perspective.

______

I would seriously like a penpal.

Dear Interweb,

I just thought you might want to know that TODAY COULD POSSIBLY BE THE BEST DAY IN THE HISTORY OF EVER, because I'm going shoe shopping.

Don't hate me because your plans aren't as fun. (Feel free to hate me because I'm hotter than you.)

Love & stuff,
Ryan

P.S. Actually, you know, TOMORROW could possibly be the best day in the history of ever, now that I think about it. We'll see.

P.P.S. Okay, totally off-topic, but lookit --- Barbie as the Wicked Witch of the East. I kind of fucking want this.

- A few days before my birthday, Mom sent me four pictures of Dad (I had only asked her for one). My laptop and my first-edition copy of Harriet the Spy were instantly bumped out of their positions as my most prized possessions.

- Speaking of Dad, he's sort of been pissing me off lately. I know, I know, that makes no sense, but do me a ginormous favor and either shut the fuck up or fuck off.

- Speaking of my birthday, I'm still not sure how I feel about being 22.

- For the past week, every single day has been a good hair day. No, really. Every single day.

- Hey, have you heard about this miraculous amazing new product called VIA? It's a) affordable, b) portable, and c) snortable!

- I've got that better-than-just-about-anything feeling I only get when I have too many good books to read . . . and I haven't even bought The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Prisoner's Dilemma yet.

- I have the perfect (ish) line to break the ice with this cute boy who's been making eyes at me for about two months (I've only recently started to make eyes back, because I'm dense like that). Unfortunately, I haven't seen him in almost two weeks. Typico.

- People keep complaining about the weather, because they can't believe summer's gone already. Whenever this happens, I have to bite my tongue to keep from pointing out that, actually, fall happened right on schedule. Of course, I'm somewhat biased, since it's my favorite season.

- CUSTOMER: Does your wi-fi work outside?
BARISTA: You know, I've never had cause to check that out . . . but you're more than welcome to go investigate.

- No matter how many times I (or other people) point out that I'm a bitch, it always seems to surprise somebody or other when I inadvertently say something bitchy to them. I'm sorry (okay, that was a lie), but I just don't have the time to worry about everybody's feelings all the time. Suck it up, thanks.

- "Instead of fixating on the last five pounds you want to lose, celebrate the five you already lost."

Before we can discuss the movie, I just need to briefly touch on the trailers. Holy flipping cows, y'all, I cannot fucking wait for Whip It! --- that's pretty much all there is to say about it, really. And, uh, if a) I wasn't afraid of being clawed to death by (eleven-year-old) fangirls and b) TICKETS WEREN'T ALREADY SOLD OUT, I would totally see New Moon on opening day. As it is, whenever I do see it, I will most definitely be alone, as I can already tell that I am going to lose. my. shit. and fall out of my chair and just generally make an ass of myself from laughing so hard. Like, if it's possible to literally die from laughter, then that might be what happens to me.

Anyway.

For now, I'm going to keep this spoiler-free.

- Jennifer's Body --- which, by the way, I wanted to see so badly primarily because it was written by Diablo Cody, who is known for writing Juno, so you probably won't like this if you didn't like that --- was so good that, when it was over, I seriously pondered buying a ticket for the next showing. I mean, it's not the best thing I've ever seen. It didn't restore my belief in the unstoppable power of cinema or anything like that. It was, frankly, somewhat campy --- but somewhat campy in a really good way. I mean, for---er, actually, I probably shouldn't mention that bit until after the cut.

- Speaking of Juno, remember that girl who was standing outside the clinic (all by her lonesome) with a poster she had clearly made herself, who told Juno that her baby probably already had a beating heart and fingernails (FINGERNAILS)? Well, the adoreable girl who played her has a part in this movie, and you wouldn't have thought that was possible, but she's even more adoreable here, with her cherry-red glasses and everything.

- Finally, Amanda Seyfried snagged the lead role in a Big Damn Movie! (Some might say that she technically had the lead role in Mamma Mia!, but come on --- her costar was Meryl fucking Streep; if she's remembered for that at all, it'll be as "that girl who played Meryl fucking Streep's daughter.") I mean, any review you read will be all MEGAN FOX MEGAN FOX MEGAN FOX OMG MEGAN FOX, but don't believe it for a minute. Technically, she does play the title character, but Needy (no, really, that's her name --- and to think there was once a time when you thought "Buffy" was an unfortunate name for a female action hero) steals the show, so . . . um . . . shut up . . . and stuff.

- Look, it's not like I hate Megan Fox or anything (although I was severely unenthusiastic about Transformers, which is the whole reason anyone who didn't have little sisters around the time that Island in the Sun came out has even the faintest idea who she is). I actually (almost) quite liked her. She was sort of born to play a possessed cheerleader who sups on human flesh.

- Kyle Gallner (who I just realized was Beaver on Veronica Mars; THANK YOU, INTERWEB) is seriously cute with nail polish and a lip ring. Oh, and in that scene where he went to meet Jennifer? I WANT THAT HOODIE HE WAS WEARING.

- Adam Brody is a lot cuter with eyeliner.

- As you might expect if you did enjoy Juno, the dialogue is one of the best things about this whole movie. Some of my favorite lines included:
"Jell-O" being used as slang for "jealous."

"Lime Jell-O" as slang for "so jealous that it severely exacerbates my teen angst to such an extent that I think I may faint" . . . or something.

"Do you buy all your murder weapons at Home Depot? You're so butch."

"Our library has an occult section?"
"It's really small."

"They're, like, total agents of Satan . . . with really awesome haircuts."

And so on and so forth. Next time I see it, I'll have to take a pad of paper and a penlight or something.

- In short, I really really liked it. Needy is like the antithesis of that girl from Drag Me to Hell --- when her world starts to get freaky, she makes up her mind to do something about it, and then she fucking does it (in what's her face's defense, though, when you're a dumb white girl in a horror movie and your fighting skills only last for one scene, seeking help from every non-white person you can find probably is your best bet) (plus, uh, that was obviously more blatantly tongue-in-cheek).

( Now, let's get spoiled . . . )

She had little appetite and barely noticed as Lionheart's lumpen messes began to evolve into recognizeable dishes. She had never taken a great deal of interest in her own appearance and had minded the least of the three of them when they put their fine clothes away, for they had agreed among themselves that all their good things should go towards assuaging their father's creditors. She did not notice that Jeweltongue had an immediate gift for invisible darns, for making a bodice out of a skirt of older curtains, and collar and cuffs of worn linen napkins with the stained bits cut out, and finishing with a pretty dress it was no penance to wear.

Nor could she sleep at night. She felt she would welcome her old nightmare almost as solace, so dreadful had their waking life become; but the dream stayed away. Since her mother's death it had never left her alone for so long. She found herself missing it; in its absence it became one more security that had been torn away from her, a faithful companion who had deserted her. And it was not until now, with their lives a wreck around them, that she realised she had forgotten what her mother's face looked like. She could remember remembering, she could remember the long months after her mother's death, waking from the dream crying, "Mama!" and knowing what face she hoped to see when she opened her eyes, knowing her disappointment when it was only the nurse's. When had she forgotten her mother's face? Some unmarked moment in the last several years, as childhood memories dimmed under the weight of adult responsibilities, or only now, one more casualty of their ruin? She did not know and could not guess.

What unsettled her most of all was that her last fading wisp of memory contained nothing of her mother's beauty, but only her kindness, kindness and peace, a sense of safe haven. And yet the first thing anyone who had known her mother mentioned about her was her beauty, and while she was praised for her vitality, her wit, and her courage, far from any haven, her companionship was a dare, a challenge, an exhilarating danger.

That's from Rose Daughter, the very first Robin McKinley book I ever read. For some (stupid) reason, I've never reread it (even though I've read both Sunshine and Spindle's End at least half a dozen times each), but - along with Spindle's End and The Hero and the Crown - luhree_love recently mailed me a copy, and . . . and this is going to sound as cheesy as anything can, but it makes me so damn happy. Which, at the moment, is certainly saying something; whenever I'm not reading it, more often than not, I want to punch somebody.

Or, better yet, kick him.

Through a wall.

Reason #1: I don't have to work until tomorrow. No, seriously, guys --- I was supposed to be off Monday and Tuesday, but one of my coworkers had "plans" on Monday and another had an almost-emergency dentist appointment on Tuesday, and I was pretty much the only person either of them could ask for coverage, since we keep losing people and have yet to hire anyone else, AND THEN YET ANOTHER COWORKER ASKED ME TO STAY AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER THAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO YESTERDAY SO THAT SHE COULD WORK HER OTHER JOB, WHICH SHE IS PLANNING ON QUITTING ANYWAY, so (even though I was MORE THAN HAPPY to work on Monday, because duh, time and a half, and even though this week's tips are going to be excellent) I have rarely been so happy about a single day off in a good long while.

Reason #2: It's fucking payday. 'Nuff said.

Reason #3: October is just a few weeks away.

Reason #4: Unless I'm seriously mistaken (knock on wood), it seems that the worst of my changing-of-the-seasons sniffles are behind me.

Reason #5: I got Disc 2 of the fourth season of Weeds yesterday. I think, after I pick up my check, I'm gonna get a goddamn burrito and bring i---actually, no, make it at least two burritos---bring them home and eat them while I watch the next few episodes. (By the way, if you have ever even hinted that I might possibly maybe enjoy this show in the past, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT, honestly. It's only been about three weeks since I started watching, and I absolutely love it. I sort of thought my enjoyment would wane, at least a little bit, after Heylia and Conrad and Vaneeta left the show --- particularly Heylia, who tied with Shane as my favorite character during the whole first season --- but, so far, not so much. Well, obviously, I mean, I miss them, but it's not like that's all I can think about, you know?)

Reason #6: Speaking of Netflix, in the past few days I have watched Ellen DeGeneres: The Beginning and Aisha Tyler is Lit: Live at the Fillmore. In the next few days, I should be getting Lisa Lampanelli: Take It Like a Man and Jim Gaffigan: Beyond the Pale. It's no secret that I've always kind of loved stand-up comedy, but recently I've decided that it would do me some serious good to focus on it. Haha, I just said "do me."

Reason #7: Yeah, remember yesterday? It's pretty much OVER AND DONE WITH FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. That makes me feel happy and warm and squishy on the inside. Um . . . that sentence got kind of dirty when I wasn't looking.

- This has to be quick because I'm about to leave to go see Julie & Julia with three (possibly only two) friends.

- Today is Kiki's 26th birthday! Frankly, I cannot quite believe I've known her for more than five years . . . but I have; I distinctly remember her posting, "I'm 21, hopefully forever." (I would go back and find that entry and post a link, but she has since deleted that particular journal.)

- Speaking of people who are (hopefully forever) 21, I'll be 22 a month from the day after tomorrow. I'm still not sure how I want to celebrate (with any kind of luck, I'll be in the midst of moving plans . . . shhh, just cross your fingers), but I just found out that Whip It! will be opening in theaters two days before, rather than fifteen days after. So . . . that's a big plus.

- Jesse finally saw the episode my icon comes from the other day.

- Gotta go!

Comment on this post saying you want to play and I'll give you five things I associate with you/want to know more about. Then you post them in your journal and elaborate.



My five things come from xenoamorist:

footnotes
What can I say? I want to be Terry Pratchett.* Also, I've always been inordinately obsessed with parentheses -- why I can't just shut the fuck up and say what I'm trying to say is a mystery to me, and has historically been the main source of frustration reported by anyone who's ever had to read anything I've written, from all three of the English teachers I had in high school to the on-again-off-again penpal I have to this day -- and it's like footnotes can take that necessarily unnecessary deviation from the narration to the next level and beyond.

Or . . . something like that. What's my point again?


awesome YA fiction
Honestly, whether it's "YA" or "kids'" or "adult" or "mystery" or "true crime" or "fantasy" or "erotic," there's one thing you can't deny about any sort of awesome fiction: You have to slog through an awful lot of not-so-awesome to find the good stuff -- or, at least, the stuff that you personally prefer.

That being said, some of my favorite YA titles include Harriet the Spy, Catalyst, pretty much anything else by Laurie Halse Anderson, the Animorphs series, The Wee Free Men, A Hat Full of Sky, Wintersmith, the Blue Avenger books and pretty much anything else by Norma Howe, A Wolf at the Door, the Scorpion Shards trilogy, So Yesterday, The Misfits, Totally Joe, Places I Never Meant to Be, Boy Meets Boy, Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie, Nobody's Family Is Going To Change, and countless others I can't think of at the moment.

Two of my most recent awesome YA finds are Wintergirls and The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place.

sarcasm
Have I ever been mistaken for a polite, timid person?

Calvin & Hobbes
As far as I'm concerned, it's probably the best comic strip ever. I think the moment I really fell head over heels in love with it and never looked back was the first time I read the one where (they're in the woods, I think) Calvin asks, "What if there really IS no afterlife? What if this is all we get?" and Hobbes thinks about it for a second and looks around and then replies, "Oh, what the heck? I'll take it anyway."

Starbucks Yes, Stephany, that IS where I work!
Basically, it's taking over my entire life, simply because I never have enough time for the rest of my life anymore -- but I can't really complain in earnest, since I always have plenty of time to read or to write (I rarely have time to read and time to write, but one can't have everything), even during those weeks (which have gotten so frequent recently that they mostly get noticed when they don't happen) when I work far and away more hours than anyone else in the store (which is not exactly supposed to happen, since I'm not a manager and we don't have as many of those as we need). Plus, you know, I look damn good in black. That's a big plus.

You know what's not such a big plus, though? When I'm at work, more often than not, I get hit on by boys who live in California even though the numbers they give me have Indy area codes or silent boys or men who are old enough to be my father's father*** or married men or boys who make plans to hang out and then never call me again. Still, while this influx of disappointing suitors is unquestionably ONE OF THE MOST ANNOYING CIRCUMSTANCES I CAN REALISTICALLY IMAGINE, I can't even complain about it too much. I mean, it's not like I'm not getting laid.




















*Only American.**


**And not so heterosexual, because, no offense to him or anything, but I find that mildly icky.


***Except not nearly as attractive.

1. (500) Days of Summer
Zooey Deschanel is one of three actresses (the other two are Jessica Alba and Anne Hathaway) that I have lately been seeing rather a lot of, thanks to Netflix, and generally falling even more in love with. Also, I remember thinking it looked more than a little bit interesting when I saw the trailer before Sunshine Cleaning (speaking of actresses I've been falling "in love" with, despite my overwhelming gayness, oh my gawd, Emily Blunt stole The Devil Wears Prada for me). Also again, MGK spoke most highly of it.

2. Whip It!
Maybe I should be more hesitant to admit this, but I'm pretty sure I'd see anything Drew Barrymore decided to undertake as her directorial debut. Even if that weren't the case, though? Ellen Page is in it, and it's about roller derby. What else is there to say? (Ellen Page, admittedly, did annoy me so much as Kitty Pryde that, to this day, I cannot watch X3 without rolling my eyes, but I loved her so much in Juno that I can more or less overlook it.)

3. Sherlock Holmes
I've never been all that into Sherlock Holmes (unless he was on Wishbone), but . . . yeah, I'd want to see this even if it didn't have Rachel McAdams. Okay, maybe not as much.

4. The Twilight Saga: New Moon
FOR THE LULZ, duh. Caught the trailer today, before Harry Potter, and I swear, the other people in the theater started shifting in their seats and looking around to figure out where the hell the (poorly) muffled insane laughter was coming from. I thought I was going to die after she cut her finger.

5. Alice in the Wonderland
Six words: Anne Hathaway as the White Queen.


Wow, I mentioned the female stars in four out of five reasons, didn't I? Enh, I've noticed that I've been especially prone to gay boy girlcrushes lately. My own love life has sucked.

. . . Anyway.

19. The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart; illustrated by Diana Sudyka ($6.99 at Borders)
Believe it or not, but Constance Contraire gets even cooler than she was in the first book.

20. Singer by Jean Thesman (free on PBSwap)
You know how sometimes you read a book and you think you're going to enjoy it most thoroughly, because it's by a particular author and you've read everything else --- or almost everything else --- or at least more than half of everything else she or he has written, and thoroughly enjoyed all of that, so it seems like you're most definitely going to thoroughly enjoy this one, as well?

21. Don't Make a Black Woman Take Off Her Earrings: Madea's Uninhibited Commentaries on Love and Life by Tyler Perry ($4.97 at Books-A-Million)
Now, here's a fun experiment: Get on a city bus that's at least half full, read as if you are the only person on board, and see how long it takes for some not-exactly-quiet person sitting a few seats behind you to complain (into a cell phone, of course) about "crazy folk laughin' they ass off."

22. Monster by A. Lee Martinez ($19.99 at Borders)
I kept expecting to see footnotes, because I felt like I was reading Terry Pratchett.

23. Living Dead in Dallas by Charlaine Harris ($7.99 at Borders)
If you've ever wondered what True Blood would be like without Lafayette, I can pretty much sum it up for you in three words: NOT AS GOOD. You're welcome.

24. Franny and Zooey by J. D. Salinger (free on PBSwap)
Now I can finally stop feeling like an ignorant boor every time Jess tells Lorelai he was in Rory's room to see if she had it --- she does, but he was planning to get it for her if she didn't.

25. Half Magic by Edward Eager ($6.00 at Borders)
I wish for a children's book about magic that is twice as good as perfectly perfect. Oh gosh, lookit that!

26. Club Dead by Charlaine Harris ($7.99 at Borders)
Well, there's one moment from the books I'm officially hoping will show up in the show now: Sookie and Tara's Sexy Dance of Blissful Ignorance. Also, I really couldn't care less who Sookie does or doesn't hook up with (I just wanna see her be half as awesome as Tara, or at least start to telepathically kick ass), but if I did, I wouldn't join Team Bill or Team Eric or Team Sam --- instead, I'd be all about Team Alcide.

27. Devilish by Maureen Johnson ($4.00 at Borders)
Pretty much as good as you'd expect if you enjoyed 13 Little Blue Envelopes. The ending was just a touch ambiguous, but that might have been intentional.

Previously on True Blood: Longshadow tried to kill Sookie, but ended up getting staked by Bill; Eric was not pleased that Bill had killed another vampire; Jason was stupid, and Amy was psychotically neurotic, and together they were stupidly neurotically psychotic (blah blah blah); Sam suggested that Arlene and Rene have their engagement party at Merlotte's; Miss Jeanette told Tara that her demon was much more powerful than her mama's, and much more dangerous; Sam tried to give Tara flowers, but all she could talk about was the demon and the exorcism there was no way in hell she could afford; Andy got the goddamn cheeseburger and fries (cheeseburgers are relevant to his interests --- finding serial killers? Not so much); THE KILLER killed Sookie's cat, and for that he must die; Jason confessed to Eddie that he could really see Amy being the one, even though he has only known her for about a week now (and that's stretching it, I think); just in case we forgot, Lafayette is sleeping with a state senator for money, but he is still awesome; Bill asked the werecollie Sam to watch over Sookie while he went away to see how he'd be punished for killing Longshadow; Eric announced that they knew when a human had wronged them, which made the Rednecks Three all squirmy; Sookie wanted to testify on Bill's behalf, but she would not be welcome there; Sam gave Tara the money for her exorcism, and then they got all smoochy, and then Sookie saw them, and things got all awk-ward; Sam ditched Andy by turning into a collie and running right past him; Sookie invited Sam the werecollie to spend the night with her, in her bed; when she woke up in the middle of the night and found the werecollie Sam naked Sam, she screamed the scream of someone who was surprised by what she had found because it was not what she had expected, even though she is supposed to be a mind reader.

So, yeah . . . stuff happened.

( Oh, DRAMATIZE. )

So, maybe she's not my favorite character in the history of ever, but Buffy does pretty much kick ass.

::one::
While I'm sure your triple Grande "skinny nonfat" latte with three Splenda does taste infinitely better if I put the three Splenda in for you (because going to the condiment bar that we have for expressly this purpose is just not the same), I am nothing more and nothing less than baffled out of my gourd when you insist on ordering it that way and then taking it over to the condiment bar (which, again, we have for expressly this purpose) and stirring in another six packets.

::two::
If you passed kindergarten, you really ought to understand the concept of forming a line and waiting your turn. If you didn't pass kindergarten but you do have a kid who is currently anywhere around that age, you really ought to discuss what she or he did at school that day, in extraneous detail, each and every day. If you didn't pass kindergarten and you don't have a kid who is currently anywhere around that age, you really ought to go back to kindergarten.

::three::
While I do applaud you for knowing what a line is, I can't help but wonder what you think you're going to gain by planting yourself in front of the register that's empty. I know there are two of us behind the counter right now, but only one of us is taking orders. The other is making drinks. I'd be happy to make your drink if you'd give her your order (and I'd gladly go ahead and get something started for you if there weren't a line of more than five people at the register that does have a partner behind it).

::four::
No matter how long you stand there and look, you're really never going to find anything in the pastry case that's truly all that healthy.

Deal with it.

::five::
Well, of course you can get an Iced Tall Americano in a Venti cup with no water! But, if you're not going to ---wait, what's it called again? Oh, right--- tip, then I'm going to a) fill that Venti cup with just about as much ice as it'll hold, b) then pull your shots, c) and then top it off with even more ice.

::six::
What I'm about to say may be hard for you to believe, but I swear by whatever you'd like me to swear to: You are not the only person in the world. You are not even the only person in line right now. There are, in fact, three people in line ahead of you. Since they placed their orders before you placed your order, I am going to make their drinks before I make your drink.

Regardless, if you order a cold drink but pick up a hot drink ---just because it's there, apparently--- walk off with it, and then come back and tell whoever's on register that "Um, maybe I ordered wrong? I don't speak Starbucks very good? But I'm pretty sure this isn't what I ordered?" you are, frankly, too stupid to live.

Gosh, did that sound bitchy? Sorry, I get that way when I have to deal with morons.

::seven::
As previously stated, you are not the only person in the world. You are not even the only person in line right now. There are, in fact, three people in line ahead of you. Since they placed their orders before your placed your order, I am going to make their drinks before I make your drink.

Complaining that it's taking too long is not really going to win you any favors, you know? I'm sorry you're late for work and all, but I'm afraid I don't comprehend how stopping into my (non-drive-thru) store and picking up a triple Venti Caramel Frappuccino ---blended with whip, both kinds of drizzle in the cup and on top of the whip--- is going to help you get there any faster.

Alright, so clearly I'm not qualified to define LJ or tell other people anything about it. Yes, I mean, once upon a time, I did spend an awful lot of time here, but that was an awfully long time ago; for about a year now, more often than not, I've been finding other ways to spend my time. Lately, though, people have been using it in ways that have hurt one of my nearest and dearest, so I thought I'd chime in.

(Side note: In truth, the only reason I even use LJ at all anymore is to keep up with tanz_fanatika. One day, when the Neverthere series is wildly popular and critically acclaimed, I'd like to be able to say that I knew her when, even if the only person I'm saying it to is myself. There are a number of other people I've become close to through LJ, but we've developed other ways of staying in touch. Or not staying in touch, as it were.)

I first started using LJ in May of 2004, when I was sixteen years old. I am now twenty-one, and the site has gone through so much change that it is occasionally unrecognizable. (I have no idea how to send a PM, and have to remind myself every time someone sends me one that I feel merits a response.)

Before we can talk about how to use LJ, I suppose we should define it.

According to Wikipedia (no, really -- shut up), LJ "is a virtual community where Internet users can keep a blog, journal or diary." If you've been here for any length of time, you ought to have figured out what a blog is on your own, but it's worth examining the difference between a journal and a diary. For the purposes of personal use (i.e. we're going to set aside the rather obvious fact that "journal" is another word for "newspaper"), I think it's safe to say that the only definite difference between the two terms is that a diary is always (supposed to be) private, while a journal is available for other people to read.

For better or for worse, many people use LJ to make things that they would normally keep private open to the public. If you do this and you've never read Harriet the Spy, please get off the Internet right now and go read it. (If it takes you a few days to track it down, then so much the better -- I promise the Internet will still be here when you get back!)

Okay, so the biggest difference between you and Harriet (other than the fact that you're not an eleven-year-old girl growing up in New York in the sixties) is that you want your private thoughts to be read by a) your friends list or b) the whole world or c) both. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that -- it can actually be one of the best ways to vent -- but there are a few things you would do well to keep in mind:

1. If you use LJ right, you're going to meet a lot of people, most of whom it would have been literally impossible for you to meet otherwise. This has its pluses and its minuses, as some people rock out loud and some people try to suck the life out of everything around them, and it is somewhat complicated by the fact that (and what I'm about to say is especially true on the Internet) you can't always tell which type of person someone is right away. Sometimes they seem to be one kind, but ultimately reveal themselves as the other. It's sad, but it's true.

2. Meeting all those people and whatnot, you're going to make some friends (some really good friends, if you're half as lucky as I've been). However, this is not always going to be the case. You remember how Mr. Rogers used to talk about how boring things would be if we were all the same? The upshot of this is that we have diversity, which makes life more interesting; the downside is that, occasionally, you are going to come across people who, for one reason or another, just plain don't like you. This is not your fault. This does not make you a bad person, or them. This is just part of life.
2a. Also, you're going to make friends and, after a while, your friendship is going to grow and develop and change - you might even stop being friends altogether. Again, this is unfortunate, but it is just part of life.

3. Making friends can occasionally be problematic, because "Naturally, you put down the truth in your notebooks. What would be the point if you didn't?" (Again, refer to Harriet the Spy - also, please refer back to point 2a. These things just happen.)

4. If you are friends with someone and that ends, it is not the end of the world. You're still you; they're still them; the both of you can and will move on. That is okay. Of course, sometimes moving on is hard, because it's never exactly easy when a friendship ends, but there is a right way and a wrong way to deal with it. If you're old enough to use LJ (which, last time I checked, was thirteen), you ought to have learned most of what I've said so far already. If you're old enough to consider yourself an adult--- no, wait, let me put it another way:

IF YOU ARE CLOSER TO THIRTY THAN YOU ARE TO TWENTY, YOU ARE TOO OLD TO ACT LIKE A CHILD.

5. To expand upon that, when you're friends with an LJ acquaintance and that friendship ends, kindly do us all a favor and DO NOT sit around on mutual friends' journals and make (thinly) veiled jabs at them. If you choose to do this anyway, I guess that's your choice, but if you choose to do this MORE THAN A YEAR LATER, that's just PATHETIC. You are more than old enough to peaceably coexist with someone you've disagreed with and/or just plain don't like or, barring that, tell them to their face what you don't like about them.

For example:

Jessica Bunn is a jerk. She is close to thirty years old, but she acts less than thirteen. I have never met her in person, and don't care to, but if I did, rest assured, I would tell her to her (probably ugly) face, "You know, I was not exactly looking forward to meeting you anyway, because it's always unpleasant when you're thrust into situations where you have to meet people you're pretty sure you're not going to like, but you made it worse with that dye job of yours, which just makes it impossible to even pretend to like you, because it's that distracting. Who in the world told you it was a good idea, and why, oh why, did you listen? Oh, and also, you know how you're so fond of saying that 'ANGER ONLY HURTS YOU OMG'? Yeah, you might want to think about chaging that to 'Pitifully passive-aggressive behavior only hurts those who practice it' -- not that it would really do you much good, since anything that comes out of your mouth instantly turns into incomprehensible vaguely New Age psychobabble, which not even you can make any sense of."

I would not smile and tell her I liked her shirt and then hang out on a mutual friend's LJ and leave a comment to the tune of "Uck, I sooo hate it when I'm put in a situation where I have to meet someone I know I'm not going to like because she has a reputation for contemptible psychobabble, and then she goes and makes it impossible to like her because of her effing DYE JOB, you know?"

But, hey, that's just me. Not everybody can be the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest.

6. When someone -- a friend, an enemy, a frenemy, a family member, a celebrity, an ex-lover, whoever -- on the Internet says or does something that makes you sad or mad or distressed or depressed or whatever, here's a radical idea: GET OFF THE INTERNET. (Seriously, and I can't stress this enough: Do not start a flame war. You're just going to end up getting burned, you know?) Not forever, just for a while. I don't care what else you do, as long as it involves getting out of that chair, getting out of bed, leaving the cafe (maybe even, gasp, turning off your computer!). Do anything else, anything at all, for a while.

Read a book.
Read another book.
Take a walk.
Take a daycation.
Plan a vacation.
Have sex.
Call a friend and set up a time to hang out in person.
Have a drink.
Make some scrambled eggs.
Watch three episodes in a row of whatever TV show you're currently geeking out over.
Clean your bathroom.
Clean your kitchen.
Clean your entire house top to bottom.
Play with your cats.
If you don't have any cats, go bug someone who does.
If you don't know anyone who has cats, go investigate at the pound.
If you don't know where the local pound is, find out.
Take the day off and go see as many movies as you can afford.
Buy some shoes.
Make a mix CD.

The possibilities are endless, but you see my point: Get. Off. The. Internet.

Sometimes it's all you can do.

Thanks for reading. I hope this has helped you a little bit. If you have anything to add, or if there's anything I didn't say that you feel should've been said, please let me know.

Always remember, and never forget, that it's not that serious.









"Now that things are back to normal I can get some real work done."

13. Stick Figure: A Diary of My Former Self by Lori Gottlieb (absolutely free on PBSwap!)
As mentioned previously, I got this specifically because Aisha Tyler mentioned it in Swerve as the most hilarious memoir she'd ever read. She's right -- it is about anorexia (the author wrote it based on diaries she kept during the year she stopped eating, when she was eleven), but that really doesn't make it any less funny. I mean, obviously it's not funny that she's anorexic (at eleven); it's more funny because most, if not all, of the adults in her life talk down to her because she's eleven, and think she has no idea what's going on, but really? She sees what's going on better than they do.

Also, the day after I finished this, I saw a bus ad for Pepsi Max, "the first diet cola for men."

14. Julie & Julia: My Year of Cooking Dangerously by Julie Powell ($6.99 at Borders*)
Okay, I admit it: I probably never would have even known about this book if not for the movie. But Amy Adams is going to play Julie Powell in the movie, so cut me some slack. (If you don't love Amy Adams, go see Sunshine Cleaning. If you've seen Sunshine Cleaning and you still don't like Amy Adams, then I'm sorry, but we will just have to respectfully agree to emphatically disagree.)

Anyway, I quite enjoyed the book. As soon as I read about the premise, I couldn't help but wonder: How in the world does one woman cook 524 recipes in 365 days? Apparently, it's not exactly as simple as it is uncomplicated. Having a helpful husband is, well, helpful.

Also, she's a big Buffy fan. There's one scene where she gets pissed off about something and has to watch "Band Candy" and "A New Man" just to get over it. And there's another scene where she's almost reluctant to go through with her very first real live TV interview because it's being recorded during the broadcast premiere of "Chosen." So that was a big plus for me, obviously.

Best line: "The nice thing about having a friend who is crazier than you are is that she bolsters your belief in your own sanity."

15. Politically Correct Bedtime Stories: Modern Tales for Our Life & Times by James Finn Garner ($3.18 at Half-Price Books)
Short, but worth it.

16. Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover if Her Life Makes Her Life Look Big, or Why Pie is Not the Answer - Seriously, Another Memoir by Jen Lancaster ($14.00 at Borders)
I am addicted to Jen Lancaster, for some reason.

I mean, obviously, she's hilarious and bitchy (sometimes hilariously bitchy), but I always get this feeling in the back of my mind that I shouldn't like her quite as much as I do.

So far, I'm doing a pretty good job of ignoring that feeling.

17. I Love Everybody (and Other Atrocious Lies) by Laurie Notaro ($5.18 at Half-Price Books)
From the title essay: "I am not exactly a people person. Not exactly. You see, when I was born, God gave me an ounce of patience that was supposed to last me a lifetime, but it turns out I used all of it up during the first week."

'Nuff said.

18. The Book of Witches: A Spellbinding Guide by Tim Dedopulos ($12.97 at Books-A-Million)
This was on the clearance table, so clearly I couldn't not buy it.

A few things I found particularly interesting:

- The Wicked Witch of the West is the illustration that accompanies the title page for the seventh and final chapter, "Something Wicked This Way Comes!" -- but there is no entry devoted to her. I found this especially annoying since Glinda had an entry devoted to her in an earlier chapter. And I'm not talking about the Glinda from Wicked, oh no, I mean the Glinda from the classic movie. If you're not going to spend some time talking about the Witch, who cares about Glinda? (Of course, I'm not the most partial person in the world here; the Wicked Witch of the West is arguably the very reason I have such an enduring fascination with witches. She was my favorite character in the movie from the very first time I saw it.)

- "Naming Jadis the White Witch helped make the Christian point that in the real world, even so-called good witches were to be thought of as Satan's helpers." This has never even occurred to me; I'm very stupid.

- The very last witch to be profiled in the whole entire book is Bellatrix Lestrange. The book was published in 2005, so there was no canon visual depiction of Bellatrix at the time. Rather than leave her profile without an illustration of any kind, a snapshot of some shady-looking woods was slapped on, with this caption: "Dark woods lurk behind Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Could Bellatrix Lestrange be hiding in them, as her master Lord Voldemort once did?"

- The (ugh) Charmed Ones are given their own entry. Like every other entry, it ends with a mini-profile that lists things like region, power (ranging from none to very strong), key members, and . . . "Known for: Squabbling, helping people" -- I love that it's in that order. Also, I hate myself for catching this, but "Piper eventually conceives a child with a White-Lighter, [sic] greatly increasing the intensity of the demonic attacks on the trio because the forces of evil know that the baby, Wyatt, is destined for even greater things than the Charmed Ones. Some time later, [emphasis added] Prue is killed by a demon, and the two remaining sisters are joined by a previously unknown half-sister named Paige."

- There's an entry on Granny Weatherwax, which states that Lily is her twin sister. I'm fairly certain this is incorrect. Isn't she older?

- I don't usually care one way or the other about "real" witches, but the North Berwick Coven sounds fascinating.

- According to the book, "The difference between a power and the use of magic is fine, but important. A power is something inherent, a skill or ability in its own right. Magic, by contrast, is a force used to produce specific results -- an intermediary. Even when the end result is very similar, the difference lies in the journey taken to get there -- not least because it often takes different methods to defend against magic from those needed to be safe against the use of a malicious power. To put it in modern terms, it's the difference between being gifted with the prodigious ability to work out the square number in your head, and knowing where to find a computer program that can do the calculation for you." The following powers, which were commonly attributed to witches, are then listed and defined: prophecy, clairvoyance (or scrying), flight, corruption, being able to commune with spirits, and being able to control vermin.

- Finally, I loved the introduction:
"Beware the night! Darkness is when the witches roam, safe from discovery and identification. They lurk in the shadows, their powers hidden from the world, and reach out to blight or bless with no more than a pinch of herbs or a muttered spell. They can ride the winds on their broomsticks, take on the shape of an animal, destroy crops, ruin livelihoods and miraculously bring the sick back from the very edge of death. They are anonymous, anyone and anywhere... but, most of all, they're an expression of our need to master the elements and forces of nature -- and a cruel legacy of the male fear of feminine power."












*They were having a buy-one-get-one-half-off sale.

Well, I'm not sure if it's because

a) I don't know how to shop,
b) I do know how to shop, but I was doing it in all the wrong places,
c) I do know how to shop, but I was doing it in all the right places at all the wrong times,
d) people just don't send them anymore (and therefore have no reason to buy them), or
e) I didn't do enough shopping,

but I could not find a single postcard during my entire vacation.

I looked in Jacksonville. I looked in Gainesville. I looked in Keystone. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Birthday cards? Yes. Mother's Day cards? Absolutely. Belated Mother's Day cards? You betcha! Graduation cards? Uh-huh. Early Father's Day cards? For sure. Just Because We're Friends cards WITH SOUND? Most definitely.

(Thank You Ever So Much for the Thoughtful Birthday-Mother's-Day-Belated-Mother's-Day-Graduation-Early-Father's-Day-Just-Because-We're-Friends-WITH-SOUND cards? Well, what do you think?)

I still like the idea, though, so I'll keep looking now that I'm back. (Five bucks says somewhere within fifty yards of my job sells them and I walk past it every day without realizing.)

I'm so gay that I'm not going to fly from Indianapolis to Atlanta to Jacksonville tomorrow -- instead, I intend to defy gravity the whole way there.

. . . Enh, it sounded funnier in my head.

See you next week, everyone!

Not.

Since I know I am going to buy more books while I'm in Florida next week, I've decided that I should probably only take four books (or an absolute maximum of five) on the plane with me. Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to pick just four from the stack of eleven in front of me.

Hmm-hmm-hmm.

Hmm.

Edit: Make that a stack of fourteen. Half-Price Books is having a sale today through Monday (which is apparently Memorial Day -- it always sneaks up on me). Everything in the store is twenty percent off. There's a good chance I'll go back sometime before the sale's over.

So, this weekend I dragged Jesse to Blockbuster and rented Sex and the City, which I forced him to watch even though he's never seen any of the series (well, I say I "forced" him, but the truth is that he was more than willing). I had been hankering to watch it (and, for some reason, Finding Nemo -- I would have watched them both on the same night, but there were no copies of that one left) for close to a month, so you can imagine how much I enjoyed it.

Anyway, I'm bothering to mention this because I noticed a few things that slipped past me when I saw it in the theater:

- When Carrie gets off the elevator at Vogue, one of the people waiting to get on the elevator is a girl who bears a striking resemblance to Alex Bledel. You only see her for a few seconds, but seriously, they look so much alike (in the face, anyway; not so much in profile) that I found myself wondering if she'd done a cameo.

- Samantha is the only one of the four main characters who says the word "fucking" in the entire movie. She says it at least three times -- "Fifty fucking thousand!," ". . . forgot how to use my fucking legs," and "Happy fucking Valentine's Day!"

- During the New Year's Eve sequence, the shot of Charlotte and Harry doing it is totally repeated footage from the earlier scene where she thanks him for being him.

- At the first wedding, Stanford gives Carrie his cell phone and she says thank you. This is the only time she says anything to him in the entire movie. Which is not all that surprising, considering how small his role is. (If they do make a sequel, I hope he gets to do a little bit more than he did in this one.)

- It's kind of obvious that the first wedding is not going to happen. There are all sorts of sensible reasons it doesn't work out, of course, like Carrie and Big not communicating about their expectations of marriage, but here's another one: The fancy Vivienne Westwood wedding gown she would have worn? Yeah, it totally hid her shoes from view. Carrie effing Bradshaw could not get married in a dress that prevented her from showing off her shoes. You can laugh, but when they do get married at the end, her fabulous never-worn shoes are the most outstanding part of her whole outfit.

- When Smith finally comes home on Valentine's Day, he has a Naked smoothie. I'm kind of addicted to those lately, even though they're seriously expensive even with my discount.

- Stanford and Anthony kiss at New Year's. They're sitting next to each other at Carrie and Big's reception, which is the next time we see either of them. Personally, I am choosing to see something there.

- We never find out what Samantha names her dog.

The other day, it occurred to me that, other than hanging out with Nikki and saying hi to just about everyone I could stand to talk to in high school, my upcoming trip to Florida is little more than a thinly-veiled excuse to get into a bunch of super-fun arguments with various members of my 'real' family buy cheap postcards and send them to people!

(Don't look at me like that; this totally makes sense -- who the fuck doesn't love getting mail?!)

So, if you would like me to send you some, kindly send your address to alliteration.alert@gmail.com, and I'll drop you a line.

NOTE #1: If your name is Leslie Clark or Jesse Dollar, don't bother responding to this at all -- you're getting at least one postcard even if you write to me specifically asking that I not send you any. Deal with it.

NOTE #2: Even if you think I should already have your address, please send it to me again. I am really good at accidentally deleting emails.

NOTE #3: This probably goes without saying (at least, I certainly hope so), but postcards from me do not contain the usual "weather was great; word from the locals is that the sun's gonna come out again tomorrow, likely sometime in the morning"/"hotel is faboo"/"you would not believe the shopping" claptrap (not that there's anything wrong with that, I guess -- who the fuck doesn't love getting mail?!). If you send me your address, I am most probably going to try my hardest to make you laugh out loud. Just sayin'.