I just saw a delightfully adorable photo of a Boston Terrier in a Santa Hat. It never ceases to amaze me how I can draw equal pleasure from both zombies gnawing on human flesh or a cute baby animal. That makes me nostalgic for Odin's Word, and thinking of Cute Overload. I've been adhering to Sylvia Plath's wisdom lately of taking baths so hot you can only edge in one foot at a time. I don't understand - I hate being hot any other time, but I love hot baths. Last night it was hot to the point that I almost made myself pass out. I listened to "Nights in White Satin" in the dark bathroom and thought wintery thoughts. As much as I hate hate hate Christmas music, I'll listen to "Last Christmas," yes that "Last Christmas" by Wham! any day of the year. Heidi read my tarot cards in several variations tonight which never ceases to amuse me. I don't believe in god, but for some reason I listen to some colorful pieces of cardboard. I got the death card in every reading, which is actually not so bad. The words attached are things like "rebirth, new beginnings, desire, moving on."Another book she has talked about how the power card for Scorpios is death is not the end, but only a chance for resurrection. And somehow death is tied to Scorpios because we're the most sexual of the zodiac, to which the only connection I can make one Neil Gaiman short story talks about how the French call an orgasm la petite morte: the little death, and I suppose they're mostly right. I always liked that phrase or the other French phrase Mr. Gaiman taught me, l'espirit d'escaliers, the spirit of the staircase, meaning you remember the exact right thing to say as soon as you leave the party. I've had many of those nights. Tonight I ate an all-time Hall of Fame Chipotle burrito that had the perfect amount of corn salsa, but just a little too much cheese. John, it's a nice thought that you're telling me all I need is love right now, but terribly impractical. BUT, my finals are nearly done. I put finishing touches on my film today, and I'm a mere sound mix away from never having to shoot another film on a Bolex, although they are very cool cameras. Someone told me Columbia got the very last shipment of VHS tapes, in addition to owning the very last Bolexes. That "exes" looks weird in the last sentence. As people talk about Tiger Woods and Brian Kelley, I realize how little I care about sports. This shouldn't be a surprise, but then again, I haven't seen a movie in theaters in two months, which seems insane for a film major. The Cranberries on shuffle, the song takes me to 1995, Q102, Target parking lot, holding my new stamp shoe Barbie. Emily and I have been binging on 90s music this whole fall, crap from our childhoods that isn't any good, like Third Eye Blind, but then again neither is 80s music and I love that. I've been exploring Tumblr accounts lately - they start frequently with "fuck yeah" and end with "Christina Hendricks," or "beards," or my personal favorite, "beards and bacon." It never ceases to amaze me how much time people spend on the internet, because I know how much time I spend, which is too much, and they spend far more. In seven days, I will be a junior in college. I was at Big Art last night, and Joe told me to stay in college forever, and I nodded, smiled, because he is so damn cute and not nineteen. A man, not another silly boy. Motorhead, alright shuffle, I see we're behaving badly tonight. Skip. Now "Material Girl." Yes, Madonna, I'll listen to this garbage because it reminds of MTV clip specials I watched back when they still played music, and I still played Barbies.
Leah in Production II is using this in her final film. Gave me chills when she showed a rough cut.
ED. NOTE - Fixed "Least Christmas" back to the proper "Last Christmas." I think that was a Freudian blogger slip for actually talking about Wham! in a non-ironic context.
A confession, dear readers; I've turned into quite a nice little feminist this semester. Through learning that the true definition of feminism is simply "equal treatment for both men and women," my domestic violence writing class, Culture Race and Media, and some very snarky male film majors, I've become much more assured in my abilities as a woman, and the flawed portrayals of women that the media presents.
This is my final paper for said domestic violence writing class, and one I promised to share with Quarternotelife, posted here because it is still her birthday my time. This is a gift you've helped me work on for years -I feel like this is the paper the two of us spent a childhood researching as we shrieked and giggled in her dark basement. We'd make good case studies about the women who love horror films, and the effects that viewing violence from a young age has. Be warned though, it is fairly academic as I try to be all edumacated and stuff...
Virgins Live, Sluts Die, and the Final Girl Always Wins: The Role of Women in Horror Films
We've all seen it – a scantily clad young woman runs through a house, stalked by a masked killer. Her chest and breasts heave under a tight shirt as she flees the killer, often portrayed as hyper-masculine. Often times, as much focus is placed on what the woman is wearing as the amount of danger she is in. Also common is that this woman has been shown as the “slut” throughout the rest of the film, and acts of violence often accompany acts of sexual expression. Look to any of the major money-making horror franchises – Friday the 13th, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween – and you will find that women are objectified, hyper-sexualized, and meet violent, brutally gory ends. A more disturbing thought then is that a large portion of the audience for these films is young males – what messages do they receive about the effect of violence on women, especially women who express their sexuality. Horror films can be cheaply made, and produce healthy profits, making them a great investment for film producers (Clover 18). Thus, horror films are here to stay, but what exactly do they say about violence towards women? Perhaps more interestingly than the culture of violence they promote, what do horror films say about women in positions of power, such as Ellen Ripley in the Alien films (Stephens)? Or, could horror films even promote feminist ideas with the centralization of a “final girl” who triumphs over horrific obstacles to escape victorious, an idea widely explored by Carol J. Clover in her book Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film (Clover). The exploration of these ideas will be the focus of this paper, as will a study of if horror films have an impact on their male viewers. The role of sexuality of female characters in relation to the violence perpetrated against them is perhaps the most disturbing aspect of horror films. In a few major examples, the horrors that commonly exist in many horror films get a violently sexual twist on them. One of the most notorious horror films of all time, I Spit on Your Grave, was released in 1978, and featured its female protagonist being gang-raped, beaten, and left for dead by several rednecks (she ultimately extracts various forms of revenge on them including cutting off one of their penises) (I Spit On). In 1981, Sam Raimi's The Evil Dead featuredone female character gets dragged through the woods before ultimately being stripped, beaten, and raped by possessed tree branches (The Evil Dead). Released several years later, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator featured a restrained naked woman screaming in terror as a severed head performed oral sex on her (Re-Animator). Unfortunately, this trend has continued into the 1990s and 2000s: 2007's Hostel: Part II prominently featured one female character hung naked from the ceiling, gagged, and throat slit with a scythe as another woman lay below her, drawing orgasmic glee from it (Hostel: Part II). With these examples and countless others, it becomes apparent that the link between a woman's sexuality and her own death or torture is prevalent in many horror films. Earlier examples include 1978's Halloween and 1980's Friday the 13thin which a sex act is directly followed by the murder of the female participants (Halloween, Friday the 13th). Women who do not exhibit their sexuality in horror films fall into the role of what Carol J. Clover calls the “final girl” (Clover 260). The final girl is often portrayed as more innocent than her other female peers, virginal, and far less sexual. Clover describes the final girl as a “double for the adolescent male... a homoerotic stand-in,” meaning that the final girl does not threaten the masculinity of the male characters within, and could easily be substituted for a male character (Clover 261). Her femininity is repressed to the point where she becomes just like the males within the film. However, Clover explains this phenomenon as actually being a feminist issue, stating that the final girl “triumphs over her the perversity of her tormentor, and in the process undergoes a change from passive acceptance to active dominance” (Clover 260). However, Clover makes no mention of the fact that in this change from passive to active, the final girl is still not allowed to be sexualized or get any pride out of the fact that she is a woman – an example of this would be of the character of Kirsty in Hellraiser, who does ultimately triumph over the evil Cenobites, but yet is left to languish in oversized t-shirts and no make-up, further relating her to her male counterparts and squashing her female characteristics (Hellraiser). However, there are horror films that transcend both sexual violence against women as well as the final girl mythology. One of the most prominent examples would be the Alien films, featuring Ellen Ripley as a protagonist who bests her male counterparts to defeat the alien. Daniel Stephens, a horror blogger, explains how Ripley functions in the film and subverts her male co-horts: “Ripley is the strong female character who makes active judgements and survives what is trying to kill her. The male character's activity is largely passive - most die quickly, others wait for her command. It is Ripley who makes the plan to defeat the alien which works, while the 'powerless' male Captain makes bad judgements as his unsure plan fails” (Stephens 1). While it could be argued that Ripley is in face de-feminized – with her job as a lift operator, the baggy space suits she wears – it is in the second film, Aliens, when her former life as a mother is explained as she is given the chance to care for the orphaned Newt, and she is allowed to maintain a major part of her femininity that other female protagonists in horror films must relinquish (Aliens). However, the treatment of the other female characters in Aliens, two space marines, fall prey to the horror movie trap of being masculinized and even accused of being lesbians (Aliens). Another film, 2006's The Descent features a core of strong female characters who find cannibalistic creatures as they independently explore underground caves. On the surface, it appears that the women subvert the usual horror film trappings, when only two are left and trying to survive, they end up battling against each other over the infidelity surrounding one of their husbands (The Descent). Unfortunately, it is difficult to come up with a fully positive portrayal of women in horror films, and as explained, even Aliens and The Descent, which appear to be feminist horror films on the surface, fall victim to the same trappings as their genre competitors. It becomes apparent that the horror films certainly show a skewed view of women, but what effect does this have on the viewer? Daniel Goleman explores what exactly horror films to do the viewer in his 1984 essay “Violence Against Women in Films.” For male viewers, the numbers are quite disturbing: one in three men becomes sexually stimulated when viewing acts of extreme violence towards women, while another one out of three is aroused even when the violence is non-sexual (Goleman 1). The statistics come from a 1983 survey from the American Psychological Association that also found after five days of viewing horror films and then presented with a mock rape trial, the males surveyed sided with the rapist over the rape victim (Goleman). The same effects were not drawn from test males in the group who did not watch the horror films, or even watched hardcore pornography such as Debbie Does Dallas (Goleman). Though this survey is twenty-five years old, it does present some terrifying statistics in terms of how horror films and their treatment of women affect male viewers. Feminist author Myriam Miedzian supports this idea in her essay “How Rape is Encouraged in American Boys,” and uses the same study from the American Psychological Association to conclude that of the “ two hundred and thirty five studies done over the last forty years [the idea that] viewing violence helps viewers get violent impulses out of their systems is a mistake. Viewing violence encourages violent behavior”(Miedzian 156). While statistics and facts about the exact number of men that exact violent behavior on women because they've seen violent acts against women in horror films can't be stated definitively, the evidence certainly seems that it viewing such films is not a totally innocuous act. However, men are not the only viewers or producers of horror films. Pet Sematary, Near Dark, and American Psycho are three tremendously violent films that all feature acts of violence against women, yet were all directed, and in the case of Near Dark and American Psycho, written by women (Pet Sematary, Near Dark, American Psycho). In a New York Times article, “Taking Back the Knife: Girls Gone Gory,” lesbian author Rita Mae Brown, who wrote a satirical horror film in 1982 with The Slumber Party Massacre, states that the reason she believes horror films to be so popular amongst women is that “films in general, not just horror films, are one of the few places left for women to make progress” (Orange). The article also discusses how women can appreciate Clover's “final girl” theory as a means of feminist catharsis - “audiences love a woman who can take back the knife” (Orange). Perhaps it is for this sense of empowerment and a reclaiming of violated rights, both of mind and body, by masked killers, that makes horror films so tremendously appealing to women.
The topic of the effect of violence against women in horror films, or what exactly makes the “final girl” formula so appealing has not been studied extensively enough to draw major conclusions about the issues. What can be said however, is that the extreme and prevalent acts of violence against women in horror films do have an adverse effect on their male viewers if seen in large quantities. What can also be said is that perhaps a truly realistic portrayal of a woman in a horror film has never occurred, but then again, the media is notorious for stereotyping and making generalizations about all groups, not just women. For the time being, the final girl will continue to triumph over her male counterparts in horror films, and until female screenwriters decide to change the formula, audiences will continue to delight as she takes back the knife.
Isaac Brock is another rock star whose children I'd gladly bear -
It's Monday, 9AM, and I am awake. This is probably the first time this has happened all semester and that can only mean one thing: FINALS. I dropped my film off in the cage for better or worse, and have a full day of homework, grocery shopping, and laundry ahead of me. Is it Christmas yet?
I spent nine hours in a van yesterday on the second worst trip back to Chicago I've ever had. Emily's friend, Cameron, was nice enough to drive the two of us and three others back in her van, but I'm surprised I survived. Motion sickness for nine hours because she didn't know how to brake, turn, or take bumps, the longest McDonald's wait ever, and an unsafe driving ticket later, we somehow made it back in one piece. I was thankful for the ride, but oh my dear lord...
First bad things, now good things. I can say honestly that this was the most enjoyable trip home I've had. Thanksgiving with the family was lovely, but seeing as I hadn't seen most of my friends since August, it was great to see them. Last Thanksgiving I felt distinctly blah about high school folks (save a few) but I embraced the spirit of the holiday and learned to be thankful for everyone, crazy as they may have been.
Friday night was spent at Matt's house and I got to see everyone in one big swoop. We didn't get there until ten, and things were in full effect. It's all Lee's fault that I drank a bottle of white wine, which pairs oh so nicely with smothered/covered hash browns from Waffle House. It really brings out the aromatics in the wine, that American cheese. That poor waitress...she deserved the 50% tip I gave her. The atmosphere was great because everyone was just so glad to see some familiar yet now distant faces. Saturday was much more subdued, just a couple friends at my house, enjoying my mom's baked goods and watching the cinematic masterpiece Ice Spiders, a SciFi channel original. (Yes I know it's "SyFy" now but I refuse.)
Expect infrequent posting the next few weeks as I try to survive finals. But hey, after that, I'll officially be a junior and get to be home for a few weeks.
I'm stuck on this song right now. It's just so sweet, despite the funky tone of the rest of Evil Urges. Jim James, if you need a Penny Lane in your life, I'd be willing to take up the reins. Just don't sell me to Humble Pie for a case of Heineken and then spend the night with Bob Dylan when I overdose on Qualuudes.
Some thoughts for a Wednesday morning...it might be noon, but it's morning to me:
-I woke up with a headache because I dreamt something about my parents getting divorced, or slept incorrectly on my pillow. It's a grey, yucky day so I slept longer than I probably should have.
-American Dad is so terribly unfunny, but I had to watch a full episode to see cartoon versions of My Morning Jacket and Zach Galifianakis and their wonderful (albeit animated) beards.
-My shoot for my final film is tomorrow. I am doing my best not to freak the fuck out. A delightful classmate named Pam is lending me her gear tomorrow and thus I am saved another day by the filmmaking gods. Wish me luck.
-Speaking of tomorrow, the schedule is - 8AM-5PM: make a movie, 6PM-9PM: go to class, 10PM-5AM: take the bus home. Caffeine, don't fail me now.
-I CAN'T WAIT TO BE HOME.
-I'll be home until Sunday afternoon. I hope I get to see everyone, but there's always someone that gets neglected and I feel bad. There never seems to be enough time when I'm home, but I'll try!
-Who wants to go Black Friday shopping with me? I'm a pro - my dad and I go most years. I want Zack and Miri and Pineapple Express for cheap from Best Buy so there is more Seth Rogen in my life.
-I want to make pies for Thanksgiving, but won't be home in time :( My mom has proclaimed it's high time for bacon to make it's way onto the table.
-WAFFLE HOUSE. We'll meet again this weekend, hopefully post midnight, with those silly boys I spent so much time with in high school.
Spurned by a conversation this weekend, my ten favorite albums of the decade not in order:
The White Stripes - Elephant
Radiohead - In Rainbows, although Kid A is a better album
Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
Girl Talk - Feed the Animals
Rilo Kiley - More Adventurous
The Arcade Fire - Funeral
Broken Social Scene - You Forgot it in People
Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavilion
My Morning Jacket - Z
Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes
And my ten favorite albums of all-time, in order:
The Cure - Disintegration
Pixies - Doolittle
Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Nirvana - Unplugged
Led Zeppelin - Led Zeppelin IV
Roxy Music - Avalon
The Replacements - Tim
Radiohead - In Rainbows
My Morning Jacket - Live at Bonnaroo 2008 - maybe shouldn't count since it's a bootleg, but oh well.
Best of's for Neil Young and The Allman Brothers Band also rank, but I thought they should be disqualified for being greatest hits.
I've been trying to come up with things to write about my birthday, but it all seems silly. I wanted to talk about how fantastic it was to reunite with the delightful boys of 813, how delicious my pumpkin cream cheese frosted cake was, how PBR is really rising in likability in the beer index. How much my lungs hated me the next day, how my friends know me well enough that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and a dream encyclopedia were received, how there are few things more enjoyable then smoking on a deck on a chilly fall night. But those are most of the details I remember - it wasn't quite as bad as the Alice B. Toklas brownies strip club visit from last year, or the unfortunate night of shots done off a certain high school textbook that was 18 - but it's a little foggy. It was a wonderful night and I am officially two decades old.
A brief product endorsement: I never shop at Victoria's Secret. Their bras have never fit before, but I had a really good coupon and decided to try the new Miraculous bra. I have seen the light. Ladies, in case you're curious, it is not only miraculous but divine. Worth every penny for the compliments you'll receive.
It's the school week from hell, and I just want to be home for Thanksgiving and reunite with everybody. Being home does kind of put me in a weird head space though - I miss it once I'm there, but the whole time I can't wait to get back here. I went through a bunch of old stuff when I was home last week, and it's just strange. I feel so removed from that life, and home doesn't really feel the same anymore. I do miss the people though, and that's reason enough.
I love Twitter more than Facebook right now. I enjoy it not even so much for my writing on it, but reading other people's accounts. Stan Lee and Roger Ebert are particular favorites. Give it a try... www.twitter.com/katydidnt_
BIG ART! had it's first meeting this week. Briefly, they are the organization I worked for this summer, part of Columbia's Center for Community Arts Partnerships and we're trying to get a student organization off the ground. This week I get to enlighten 20 or so Chicago public high school seniors about Columbia, the film program, and the summer intensive I worked in. I really enjoy the time I spend working with them, and we'll just ignore that one of my bosses happens to be an adorable, flannel-wearing, bearded lumberjack. I'm really good at being attracted to people I shouldn't.
And these look fun -
Crazy Heart with Jeff Bridges trying to bait the Academy
Kick-Ass from Matthew Vaughn, director of Layer Cake
Leaves of Grass with the "I don't know why I think you're cute but I do" Edward Norton.
I have survived dear readers. As of today, I'm no longer deemed contagious by Columbia College and back in my dorm. Which was a total fucking mess when I returned thanks to my ever-delightful roommate. Alas, I am feeling better by the day, and honestly just want to get back to all of my classes at this point and start playing catch-up.
I register for the classes tomorrow that will make me a junior, which seems terribly odd. In a 5AM fever delirium I figured out a loose plan for the next couple of years: Continue majoring in Screenwriting, minor in Women and Gender Studies. Second semester senior year, go to LA and see if I can sell a script or get an internship before graduating. If I can't, I'm going to join Americorps and go to either Seattle or California, spend a year doing that and living, maybe applying to grad schools. It all sounds easy laid out as such, but I'm sure there will be a bunch of delightful speed bumps along the way.
Speaking of growing up, I am being pretty lame considering in three days I won't be a teenager anymore and won't have as much leniency for bad behavior. Stupid flu. I bitched a lot about 19 being a boring age, but it has by far been the most amazing, beautiful, creative, heartbreaking, stressful, and sad year of my life. I've grown in ways I can't explain, and some I can. I fell in and out of love, was wildly creative, adjusted to living in a big city and away from home, expanded my consciousness through methods legal and otherwise, and most of all decided what it is I'm meant to do in this life - at least I hope so. 20 sounds so old! Where does the time ago - I saw a commerical for the tenth anniversary of "...Baby One More Time" and nearly puked.
I am deeply embedded with the citizens of Twin Peaks. The first season is as perfect as television gets, and oh so wonderfully weird. I can't believe it was broadcast on network back in the day. The whole idea that a single mystery can bind twenty plus hours of a story is brilliant. And all this praise comes knowing even what the outcome of the show would be. Speaking of perfect television, Mad Men's season finale was fabulous. After a slooow season, Matthew Weiner amped up the stakes. I've come to realize that I hate Betty Draper with a fiery passion. It was nice to see subtle moments of character development for Don, Peggy, Pete, Harry, and Roger. Oh, and JOAN IS BACK, BITCHES. I was so glad to see her in her mod 'lil black pants and sweater-set, looking fierce as always. I also realized there are at least four people on Mad Men I'd make out with, now that's good TV! Something about television has appealed much more than film to me lately, maybe it's the Production II blues, but I really like the short-form and how well the nuances of character can be explored.
On a final note, I thank my grandfather and all the veterans for their service today. I can't imagine how much worse the horrors he saw in WWII were than what he actually told us about. Though I may not always agree with the cause, I'll always support the men and women who are willing to sacrifice and dedicate their lives to support it. Thanks, veterans, for doing something I never would or could.
I couldn't find an acceptable video of Neil Young's "War of Man" so this'll have to do.
You know what sucks? Is when the antibiotic you're taking for your sinus infection works well for that, but makes you so sick you can't eat without puking. Or drink anything beyond green tea. But I can breath. Tough call there.
I officially broke up with Glee tonight. So much potential - too much in fact. Something I read today mentioned how they liked slow-burning story-lines more. I agree. Only three episodes of Mad Men left. Le sigh.
In all probability, I'll be going to the third, just announced Pixies show simply because: why not. How many more chances will I have to see them (few), and the opening band for that show is Bad Lieutenant, which features Bernard Sumner of New Order/Joy Division fame, which is as close as I'll ever get to seeing them. I digress.
Pre-production, and my first editing project are due tomorrow. I cannot believe it is midterms already, despite the fact that I only have one, and it's a project. I'm still not excited about my group for the film, but I can't do anything about it. I did make a couple of friends in that class - Leah, who has the most proficient liquid eyeliner skills I've ever seen, and Daniel, who ironically enough I met last year through you-know-who. They were roommates. Small world. We created the whiskey commercial scene from Lost in Translation Tuesday in class which was pretty fantastic. Set design and hair/make-up done by yours truly.
This is a ramble-y sort of post, just less artful. I ran into the boys tonight - smoking outside of Harold's Chicken, unsurprisingly - and I think Ben was actually glad to see me. I thank him for not being an asshole. Take note, men.
What is with the number of pregnant girls/moms I know on Facebook? There is not a more terrifying thought than being a mommy. You are girls indeed, not women, and birth control is $9 a month at your local Walmart. Being adult enough to have sex means you're adult enough to have a baby too, not get your bellybutton pierced afterwards. Kids today...
Stealing a page from the delightful Miss Cassandra (that sounds like a groupie name and makes me think of Almost Famous. Can we be Miss Cassandra and Miss Kate from now on?)...
Currently -
Drinking apple juice and a enjoying Halloween-sized Twix, thanks momma.
Watching Castle, which is a sub-par show at best but it has Nathan Fillion. Thus, I accept its mediocrity.
Finishing Production II homework, avoiding Culture Race and Media like the plague.
Talking to Emily, despite the fact that she left my apartment no less than an hour ago.
Breathing like Tony Soprano thanks to my diagnosed, and now antibiotic treated sinus infection.
Last movie watched - Honestly, I was disappointed. The first hour or so was fabulous, and I loved the wild things, but I thought the story didn't go anywhere or carry any emotional weight.
Last song listened to - I don't know a damn thing about this guy, other than I love the upbeat sadness in this song.
Last book read - Borrowed from Heidi. Not that interesting, and didn't tell me much I didn't already know. I was proud of myself for knowing all the things discussed in the Chicago chapter.
Last item cooked - I wish I could make pot roast like my mom's. It just isn't the same...
Current desktop background - This is perfect Seth Rogen from Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Do you know boys like this? Send them to Chicago and give them my number.
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:
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:
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:
