...In which our heroine is the midnight rambler.

Ramble, ramble, ramble since we seem to not only like them, but make some of our own.

The Facebook online box is a list of former lovers. It always it hits me when more than one of them is on at the same time. Someone who you've shared you're most intimate moments with is reduced to no more than a green dot and a tiny profile picture. Technology, what a weird thing. Not even former lovers. Former classmates who I spent nine hours a day with are reduced to no more than "WHO DEY" status updates and changed profile pictures. The wind is howling fierce outside and I love watching it rain from this height. I look at the Sears Tower, clouded in fog, and think of Ben, always. There's a tiny cockroach shimmying across the carpet, but he's too small to kill. There's also a spider that lives behind my tapestry but every time I try to kill him it just retreats back up. Fall is in the air and I can't put into words how the chill in the air and Sundays spent hitting these buttons makes me nostalgic. I miss my house in the winter and I miss taking it down and passing it around in my upstairs, when it was still something forbidden and fun and not a lifestyle. I haven't smoked or drank in a month which was longer than I went with mono. Bugs thinks I'm looking down on his current activities because of this, but really I'm just tired of the stoner lifestyle. Most of my peers indulge and I feel like I'm being holier than thou for living clean. The cockroach is migrating towards my DVD shelf and now "Crazy Mary" is in my head. Who really cares if their eyelashes aren't thick enough, Latisse? Mascara works just fine. Mad Men is more perfect than I can say and it inspires me to say less and show more. Which completely goes against the point of this. I spent four hours tonight writing about race and gender and I don't really give a shit about analyzing either. I will saying Writing Women Safe is both awesome and nauseating. When the woman, Tara Dabney, came from Family Rescue this week and said that in an abusive relationship, the woman feels like no matter what she does will ever be enough, I dug my nails into my palms and tried to make my stomach stop doing the hot/cold thing that happens when I'm excited or terrified. That class is making me perceive my life and my relationships in a new way. I need to call my grandma and aunt, but every time I do they make me feel like shit for being here. Sorry, I need to live my own life and that I don't have a three-year old right now. The spider veins in my thighs remind me I'm theirs, purple and fragmented despite the fact I'm not even twenty. Emily has them too which makes me feel not as horrible. A Johnny Cash song I don't know the name to, one line from it is on repeat. I played one level 47 times in Crash Bandicoot tonight before passing it and cursing every word I know. Then I lost on the next level, of course. We're under a tornado watch tonight so I won't sleep, the wind howling. I'm getting to be an expert at cat naps but my dreams have been especially vivid. Bachelor No. 1 keeps coming to kill me in them, or comes back to school. I wake up and can't go back to sleep. Tool Academy, now there's some deep television programming. They could shoot it in my building this year. I keep seeing cute boys in the film building but they all seem so old. Another mascara commercial - I don't even know what brand I wear, just that the tube is yellow and purple. I made the fatal mistake of finding out Cookie Jar blizzards have a thousand calories, but that won't stop me from using my dollar off coupon. I eat so poorly when school starts. I've had a headache for five days and my immune system is doing its best. I refuse to get a flu shot, swine or otherwise, or use hand sanitizer. Wash your hands, drink your OJ, do something nice for someone else, and sleep tight.

Here's that song. My mom would faint if she knew I was posting it, the only Pearl Jam song I still actively listen to and it's not even theirs:

...In which our heroine has seconds.

There are sites and blogs I check everyday - things like / Film, The A.V. Club, Time Magazine, and all of my delightful gossip sites. But there are unsung heroes, things I still enjoy but don't read everyday. In case you're curious:

Cake Wrecks: Sometimes cakes don't turn out so well. Here, they get their time to shine.

Food Porn Daily: I'm trying to be a better cook. The dishes on here make me want to work harder. Click, and something else awesome appears.

This is Why You're Fat: Most of the stuff on here is inedible, but when it works, like bacon ice cream, it really works.

That Obscure Object: Just a bunch of photos of wonderful celebrity things, like Christina Hendricks, the Goonies, and old photos. Lots of pretty ladies.

JBlyth: I don't even know what to call this one. It's just a lot of cool photos that change from black and white to color and generally fit a theme - tattoos, nudes, animals, whatever.

The Frisky: A fun and varied sex blog, written mostly by women who talk about more things than 101 Ways to Spice Up Your Love Life! which I'm pretty sure is in every issue of Cosmo ever.

Savage Love: Ah, Dan Savage. I remember when I felt like quite the scandal for reading this. Now I mostly just think it's made up, but it's still a weekly read. I have to settle since Tristan Taormino quit doing Pucker Up.

I Did it for Science: Nerve can be pretentious, but these are lots of fun.

Sci-Fi Squad: An offshoot of / Film, it covers all things sci-fi.

Horror Squad: See above. Yes, I am indeed female.

Box Office Mojo: Gotta read about the weekend box office and this is the best place to do it.

Metacritic: I much prefer this to Rotten Tomatoes in terms of rating movies and other media.

Fuck Yeah Animals with Casts: I think the name says it all.

Mental Floss: Random crap that is terribly interesting. It has replaced my semi-obsessive reading of Wikipedia.

I hate this building on the weekends. Somebody puked in an elevator, which is still parked on this floor. Stupid drunk freshmen.

It's a rainy night, perfect for The Smiths:

...In which our heroine is a heartbreaker.

I did something new and liberating last night: I broke a boy's heart. This sounds cruel, but I'll explain. For the first time ever, I didn't get mine stomped on and said goodbye on my terms without being heartbroken. Bachelor No. 3 and I had one date Thursday which went well...then he showed up drunk, on my doorstep, at 4 AM. The phrase "I love you" was mentioned as that I was his favorite thing over beer and whiskey. Tempting, I know. We had another date Monday and it was apparent things were not going to work out. He likes George Lopez, and "hates zombie movies because they're stupid and the same thing over and over." (!) He still tried to tell me a week wasn't enough time to know if I was into him, but I gave him the boot.

It feels awesome to have not lingered with a guy because he wasn't exactly what I wanted. I didn't try to fix him. I didn't obsess. I didn't force something out of nothing. I said goodbye and moved on. I know it sounds like a crazy concept, but for me it was a major step forward. I was in the power position for once. Unless someone truly fantastic crosses my path, I'm saying no thanks to dating. I swear I'm toxic - somedays I think there's a flashing neon sign on my chest that says "Are you damaged and/or a substance abuser? THEN COME ON DOWN!" I love men, but they make me crazy.

Otherwise, I'm boring. School is kicking my ass - when I leave for class at noon it'll be non-stop until 10 PM. YAY! Oh, I got Pixies tickets for both nights with no trouble! I'm so very excited. My poor, weak immune system is doing its best to fight off a fall cold. I simply do not have time to get sick. My roommate still sucks. A lot. She doesn't sleep here, and I wish she would gethefuckout.

I just realized Zombieland and A Serious Man open on the same day - how's that for some disparate awesomeness. What a weak year it has been in film - I'm hard pressed to think of anything I've seen that'll get a Best Picture nod. The Hurt Locker? Too political, and too indie. Up? Not even Pixar's best. Most of the prestige pictures are coming - The Lovely Bones, The Road, Amelia, Nine, Up in the Air - but even then, that's still pretty weak. What am I most excited for? The Road, Where the Wild Things Are, Avatar (I don't care what you say, James Cameron makes awesome action films), Nine, The Lovely Bones, Up in the Air, A Serious Man, Sherlock Holmes, Precious, Antichrist, The Private Lives of Pippa Lee, Pirate Radio, An Education. So much for film school ruining films.

In honor of my ticket acquisition, this is exactly how I hope to hear "Cactus" in November:

...In which our heroine lets things speak for themselves.

The most difficult part of this post was choosing a picture from the Emmys, which were horribly boring. Thank god for Nathan Fillion, and this:

C'MON...even the very gay Neil Patrick-Harris said he'd go straight for it. No one should be allowed to look that good. There's lots more where that came from. Too bad her finance looks like a goober, but then again, I'd probably be awestruck if I got to look at that everyday too.

One day I'll shut up about my massive girl crush on Christina Hendricks, and maybe even make a post without her it in, but that day is definitely not today. Little did I know when watching Firefly how much in love I'd be in love with these two. It's slightly naughty, so you're warned -

I'll plug Firefly again because she pops in several more episodes. Nathan Fillion and Christina Hendricks, have mercy. Please try not to die Cassie.

...In which our heroine is cautiously optimistic.

As expected, it's been nearly a week without a post. Busy, busy Katydid. But it's a good busy, a productive and optimistic busy. I'm liking it.

Classes have been really good so far. Wednesdays are my favorite and I had two wonderful discussions today - one about gender roles and the objectification of women in advertising, and the other about the language of domestic violence. Heavy, but interesting stuff. Math is a joke. Production II isn't going quite as wonderfully as I'd hoped, but it's still early.

And now I provide a warning: please, don't go see Jennifer's Body. It was even worse than anticipated, even though it was free. I really do appreciate the fact that Megan Fox is smokin' hot (and she is in the film) but she just cannot act. Everything is wrong with the movie - a bad script by Diablo Cody that attempts to deconstruct high school stereotypes but instead just enforces them, cheesy effects, poor editing/cinematography choice, and no real plot. I could get really film snob on the ideas presented on gender and the female notion of beauty and friendship, but I'll spare you. Everything that happens in the movie you can figure out from the trailer. EVERYTHING. Stay far, far away.

The season finale of True Blood proved that it is one of the best shows on television. Yes, it's campy and over the top and the central romance of Bill and Sookie is boring as shit, but damnit, it's fun. More Eric was certainly needed, and I'll miss Maryann, but season three will be promising. The Emmys are this weekend and Mad Men better win big.

And in this edition of Katydid in the City, I break my own rules, again. I made it a whole ten days into the semester before meeting a boy. Heidi fixed us up and we've hung out the past couple nights. There is a pseudo-date tomorrow. Details to follow about said boy as they become pertinent. He is a sweetheart though. Cautious optimism, that's the idea.

I would very much like some of those boneless wings from Wendy's at this present moment. And a Frosty. And like three middle bites of a double cheeseburger. And an iPhone. And a baby anteater. It's the Darlene wedding episode of Roseanne, which luckily I'm tired enough not to cry at. I will forever have a crush on David.

This is probably my favorite song off of the Fleet Foxes debut record. Lovely:

...In which our heroine gets all educated and stuff.

A real, honest to goodness blog entry. No more strings of random thoughts for a while, and probably not as many post simply because I, like most of my friends are having that "oh shit" moment. I will be much, much busier this semester than previously. I just found out I'm president for BIG ART, which is still in the formation stages, but going well.  Classes galore!

Production II: A continuation of last semester's Production I, with the addition of color film, more advanced camera, post-sync (after shooting) sound, and digital editing. We got a chance to work with the Avid software today which is intimidating but doable. My professor has lots of real world experience (The Sopranos!) so he's stressing things like professionalism and resumes. And they're are SIX GIRLS in my class. Whoa.

Writing and Rhetoric II - Writing Women Safe: I was in a mood of utter awe after this class, which is a requirement, but I chose to do one where domestic violence is the focus. It was incredibly intense - my professor, who is super nice, is a survivor, and I'll be volunteering at a battered women and family shelter over the course of the semester. Heavy, heavy stuff, but something that will be beneficial.

Culture, Race and Media: My first paperless class. This fills all kind of requirements and explores topics like gender, race, status, etc. It was fine, not terribly interesting so far, but I think it'll get better. The instructor is very nice and seems to be accommodating.

College Math: Let's be honest. I'm not trying to double my money and this is the lowest math class I can take to meet the requirement. My professor is hilarious and knows that's why most of us are there as well. We'll see how my brain remembers...

Overall, I'm really pleased with my classes, though I'm going to be really busy, especially with Production II. On the domestic front, things are not going well with my roommate. She comes home at all hours and turns all the lights in the apartment on, and won't talk to me. She isn't very nice either, and OCD about cleaning the bathroom. It's kind of hard to sleep when someone is eating and on the phone in your bedroom, at 6:30 AM. I try to make things work,  but I really don't think this is going to last. I'm about to bring over the Homo Squad (a name of their choosing) to maybe...nudge her towards moving out. Not that I'd be trying to offend or anything, no, of course not.

I bought my Dan Deacon ticket for the day before Halloween. I think, unfortunately, I'm skipping Kevin Smith because that $50 could be put to good use for the Chicago Film Festival. Cross your fingers for my Pixies tickets attempt Saturday. Jennifer's Body with the director, Karyn Kusama, Monday night on campus. I wish it was Diablo Cody.

That will make a grand total of two movies I paid for all summer having seen Drag Me to Hell, Up, The Hangover, Moon, District 9, Funny People, The Hurt Locker, (500) Days of Summer, Paper Heart, Inglourious Basterds, Public Enemies, Away We Go, Taking Woodstock, and Extract. Ain't It Cool News has saved me a ton of money and allowed me to see Charlyne Yi, Michael Mann, Christian Bale, Mike Judge, and of course, Johnny Depp. My top five are most certainly Inglourious Basterds, Drag Me to Hell, Up, District 9, and The Hurt Locker. The worst is, despite the presence of Seth Rogen holding a french bulldog, Funny People. 

The delightful Cassandra Gallagher will be here in about twelve hours, which will be so very welcome. Three months is too long a time to be without your best friend. I have seen the boys twice this week, and while I miss them, I also don't miss the lifestyle I developed with them. Regina Spektor Saturday night, and the finale of True Blood Sunday. I have a lot to be happy about.

In honor of Beatles Rock Band, which I want in addition to a Playstation 3, however trite this may be, it's my favorite:

...In which our heroine alphabetizes.

One last stream o' consciousness, only because it's the end of summer, and last night deserved it.

"Take Me I'm Yours" by Squeeze should never be made into a mash-up by a DJ. Nor should "General and Majors" by XTC. I see a lot of the same faces over and over again, re-meet them, and then do it all again. One girl, Sophie, has been incredibly drunk every single time I've ever seen her. My left forearm is still stained with faded highlighter flowers. Fruit soaked in everclear is impossible to ingest, although the hairy buffalo/jungle juice we made was delicious. One bite of pineapple set my chest on fire. It was the first party I've been to in a while where no one made a total disaster out of them self, which was a nice change. Julia, one of my old roommates, came all the way from Rock Falls for the party and we talked forever about bills and boobs and boys. Ben came, and everything is okay. We talked for a while and I told him to take care of himself when I hugged him goodbye. He looked well, but his new phone and wallet made me realize just how removed from his life I am. I still struggle with the concept of spending all day, every day with someone and then being reduced to bullshit party banter. But it was okay, and I'm just glad he's doing well, truly. I felt bad for Emily that Lane didn't come, but that wound is still fresh. People amaze me with their alcohol tolerance - that fruit was lethal and they were eating it by the cupful. I was the perfect level of drunk and had enough sense to stop myself before words began to slur. It was a chilly night but I kept laughing and stayed warm. There was a drunk bro outside of Emily's window screaming so loud and violently about losing his phone I started to get nervous. My back ached from sleeping on one pillow. McDonald's is the ideal morning after food, and "Rhythm is a Dancer" is the ideal music for the morning after. It sunk in, between sips of punch and catching up with new and old friends again how I'm growing up, again, again, again, once more with feeling. School starts Tuesday and I am glad.

And just to keep you from being too bored, my favorite bands from A to Z, with a second choice for each:

A -  Arcade Fire (Alice in Chains)

B - The Beatles (Beastie Boys)

C - The Cure (The Clash)

D - David Bowie (The Decemberists/Daft Punk/Depeche Mode)

E - Elvis Costello & the Attractions (Elton John, before 1980)

F- Fleet Foxes (Foo Fighters)

G - Grant Lee Philips (The Gossip)

H - Hole? (terrible letter, no second choice)

I - Interpol (Iggy Pop)

J - Jenny Lewis (Joy Division/Johnny Cash)

K - Kings of Leon (The Kinks)

L - Led Zeppelin (Lucinda Williams)

M - My Morning Jacket (Modest Mouse)

N - Neutral Milk Hotel (Neil Young/Nine Inch Nails)

O - Of Montreal (Oasis)

P - Pixies (Pink Floyd)

Q - Queen

R- Radiohead (Roxy Music/Rilo Kiley/The Replacements)

S - The Smiths (Sisters of Mercy)

T - Tool (Talking Heads)

U - U2 (Urge Overkill)

V - Violent Femmes (The Velvet Underground)

W - The White Stripes (Wilco)

X- X (XTC)

Y - Yaz (The Yarbirds)

Z - Warren Zevon (c'mon, it's Z)

For whatever reason, this is still my most played song on iTunes. Aretha just knows what's up:

...In which our heroine rambles on.

Another late evening ramble, yes?

I think I finally may be tiring of Girl Talk, which is not surprising since I've listened to Feed the Animals hundreds of times by now. I am so ready for school to start, to find another album to define the year and shed all the baggage that the past year has brought. I'm still wondering about what'll be like to see him. I don't think I'm properly utilizing Twitter yet, and still kind it kind of ridiculous. Diablo Cody is my girl though, I'll even forgive her for making me sit through Megan Fox for two hours in Jennifer's Body. Speaking of, what the fuck is up with movie lengths? I'm tired of two and a half hour movies that do not need to be. I started writing again, something I think that'll be a TV pilot, or at least in my own head it will. Somedays I still worry if I'm going to be able to summon the muse to pay the bills. I kind of want to go to grad school, then come back and teach at Columbia. I'd get to live in Chicago, enrich the lives of young people, and write on the side. I've met a grand total of one cool new person. All the freshman are bro assholes who cannot work a key card or an elevator and are trying oh so very hard to work their game on the opposite sex. It's kind of pathetic. My roommate, Alexandria, is back. Let's talk some opposite lifestyles now. I haven't even heard her curse yet. I have no idea how to broach the subject of substances or boys, and limits on either. Speaking of that, I'm thinking of detoxing for a month or so. Telly is very into all sorts of natural remedies and teas and such and I'm getting really tired of my lifestyle. Granted, I've cut way back, but still every time I've smoked lately I just feel like a mass of wasted brain cells. The charm has worn off, maybe. I dunno. And I think it'd be good to start the new school year with a clear head. Yes, I am tiring of this Girl Talk finally. I keep getting the smell of ammonia wafting off of my hair, which is freshly cut and dyed. Too dark again, but not as bad as before senior year. It definitely looks somewhat brown. I can't ever get my bangs cut the way I want even when I bring pictures. My Morning Jacket is covering "Get Down on It," which would be intolerable any other time. Inglourious Basterds is probably the best thing of the summer, and the best thing Tarantino's done since From Dusk 'til Dawn. I loved Hans Landa. I tried to read the script in the bookstore today and it made my stomach hurt. I guess it's a stylistic thing I'll develop too, but my god, so much descriptive text and camera movements and such. Summer is pretty much over and I'm not even sad about it, I'm just glad school will give me something to do. I still need a job but have quit looking. Extract wasn't very good at all, and neither was Mike Judge a very thrilling Q&A. Kevin Smith is at the Chicago Theatre in a few weeks and its taking every fiber of my being to not purchase a ticket although I'll probably cave. I feel like as soon as I have any money to spend it's gone, feast or famine. It's weird having someone else's food in the refrigerator and towels on the rack. I was quite liking being on my own. She doesn't curse - how do ask someone like that if you can have the room for the night, should it occur. Jeff Mangum is the King of Carrot Flowers, parts one through three. "Communist Daughter" certainly has the oddest lyrics on the album. Nancy Botwin finally learned that she can love men but not depend on them in last night's finale, good advice Not Francie. The ladies had a particularly good week on Mad Men and I still envy Christina Hendricks something awful. I would very much like Santa to bring me a PS3 now that they cost $299 so I can begin to move towards Blu-Ray and all that jazz. "Two-Headed Boy Part 2" makes me want to cry every time I hear it. Mangum's voice is just raw. Pangs of nostalgia hit hard this week, the chill in the air, the old rituals. How I've changed in this year. My dreams and deja-vus have been particularly intense. My scalp is stained with pigment and I want another huge, colorful tattoo of a feminine origin. I like how it challenges a conventional notion of beauty. But I don't want anything that'll show in a wedding dress, ha ha ha. I think Mia Wallace, hypodermic needle and all, will happen for Halloween, especially with this new hair. Say it Jeff, "Two-headed boy, she is all you could need. She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires and retire to sheets safe and clean, but don't hate her when she gets up to leave." I did leave him, whose birthday I didn't even acknowledge this week,  and I'm tired of safe and clean sheets, but it was the best choice. Second chances, are they worth it, or better yet, am I just imagining them. Who knows. I always project grandoise situations of reality before they even begin to germinate. It's how I go to sleep at night, imagining an alternate reality for myself. I always have, since I was little. Frank Black is screaming about some wild honey pie and I'm sleepy.

The "Cat People" scene in Basterds gave me chills like only a good movie can, but I prefer my Bowie like this: