April 28, 2000"i'm not good at Nice"
It may seem a little whacked that after not writing jack for roundabout a month I choose to open this entry with a rant about "Boy Meets World", but it's happening anyway. Deal.
So since tonight's Farscape is a rerun, of Jeremiah Crichton no less [more on that later], I felt the need to see what was currently on TGiF. Yeah, I wonder why myself. Anyway, I'm greeted with the image of Rider Strong with a goatee and very nice sideburns. I've always had a soft spot for Mr. Strong but this new look of his, complete with cartilage earring was quite jarring. It only got worse as the rest of the cast was displayed before me...The Middle Lawrence Brother looks like a cross between Goo Goo Dolls front man Johnny Reznik and the new Lucky on General Hospital. Basically, he looks like shit. That Will Freidle person is all bloated and old looking, dude's gotta be pushing thirty at least, and either is a wonderful actor or is the personification of the word 'moron'. Topanga, or as Thomas used to call her, Tobangya is very much as she always was; chunky yet wrapped in coloured Saran-Wrap and looking like a giant Kewpie Doll about to go down on someone. Oh and Ben Savage...I still think he's a long lost Brillo pad cousin of Hanson or at the very least a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong.
*deep breath* Ah, that's better.
Nothing like a good rant. Now back to our regularly scheduled whacked journalling.Long, long ago in a humid land far, far away there was a land controlled by the evil Governor Bavmorda and his evil flying monkey minions. And in this land, in the capital city no less, there lived a inconspicuous little girl (sha right) that kept an online journal; but just as some really cool and news worthy events started happening, the girl abruptly stopped writing. She continued on with her normal life, watching entirely too much sci-fi and not being the least bit sorry about it, making rather silly comments in her rocking mythology class, and of course emitting some sort of whacked ass pheromone so guys were totally coming out of the wood work. She emerges today from the shroud of her evil Spanish class with Senorita Bavmorda [no relation to Gov. Bavmorda mentioned earlier] and felt the overwhelming urge to free her snarkiness in type and share it with the world. So join with us now as we chronicle the extraordinary and less extraordinary events of the past month or so...
So first off, and pretty much most important...Joe and I are dating. Ok, show of hands here for faithful and beloved readers...who saw that coming 'cause I sure didn't. Our first date was certainly classic. As I was driving over to his house I noticed all these kids in formal wear standing outside taking group pictures. Duh, prom! Oh god, how funny could this get? So driving down there I was having all sorts of fun flashbacks to my two proms and senior homecoming...now what makes it even more absurd is that up to this point I hadn't gotten a lock down on Joe's age, just that he was much older than me. Well, turns out he's thirty, the same age as my sister. So while I'm seeing the whole prom thing as a generally good omen [nothing that wacky could be bad], I felt horrible for him about the age thing. Here he his going out with this twenty one year old and having dinner surrounded by a bunch of high school kids the same age as his youngest sister. It all turned out well though, he even laughed at the story of me throwing cauliflower and bread at Lauren at the Melting Pot before junior prom. I took him to see Rear Window at Miracle 5 figuring it would be a good non-datish type of movie. Plus it was a test to see how he reacted to non traditional movie fare. He passed with flying colours even though he did refer to Grace Kelly as a "hottie" thereby putting the Princess of Monoco in the same league as Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jennifer Love Hewitt. There are times I just have to shake my head at the boy.
Generally we do very nicely together, very...comfortable. Great amount of communication, mostly because I analyze everything and he drags it out of me. But he's good to me and even helped me study for my spanish oral exam even though I know he wanted to watch Twenty One. On that subject, I think I scared and maybe intrigued him a bit that I knew some question about Farrah Fawcett and her Playboy video from a couple of years back. I do take issue with his tv habits though, he likes Friends, Daddio and Third Watch. Maybe it's because his teevee only gets NBC but somehow I have to wonder about those choices. But he did sit through WWF after SNL because I wanted to watch it. He didn't have much choice though, he was my pillow at the time.
Oh, as for physical description...very unlike the guys I normally go for. Not skinny, not blond and not a shaved head in sight. The best description I can give is an Italian Lenny Kravitz mixed with Dweezil Zappa. Trust me, it's a good mix.
"Do you smell what the Rock's got cookin?!"
Mentioning wrestling from above, at the beginning of April I joined Jon, high school Joe, Venessa and Dave to watch Wrestlemania over at Jon's. I brought the Coronas. I admit, this incarnation of wrestling is all about stupidity and theatrics and frankly that's what I like about it. I was laughing continuously throughout the night and the best part is the running commentary that friends like mine can provide. At one point it was a fifteen minute all out melee where the person left standing at the bell won the Hardcore title. Dude, these guys were busting out industrial cookie sheets, trashcans, the ring steps and even the poor Mexican announcers' table. I really didn't understand the rules of 'anything goes' so for the first couple of minutes I just kept repeating, "Is that a cookie sheet? Where in hell did he get a cookie sheet?! Oh, they come from the supply trashcans...that makes a lot more sense. It would be kinda weird to take a cookie sheet to the arena with you in hopes of handing it off to one of the wrestlers..." Yep, I'm a swift cookie alright! I think my favourite part of the night was with the Tag Team match. They had these two "brothers", very redneck and pretty much dumb as dirt and they freaking constructed this ladder and table structure to get to the Tag Team title belts that were twenty feet in the air. "Did they go to some kind of Redneck M.I.T. or something?"
You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here...
Good lord, I've even been going to parties. Yep, I've been out there with the rest of the collegiate masses swilling beer [yes, I actually drank beer. Never again, never again] and just generally acting my age. I have to give props to Dionne for prompting this new stage in my social life...yeah, I think she has some special power over me. I can hear her now, "Special K...come on, you know you want to come to Kim's with me..." Her and her evil Canadian powers. I gotta be more careful in the future. So anyway I'm partying with a consistent little group of Mary and Kim, the two girls I met at the Soular System show in February. Kim and Dionne are on staff at the View [the FSU student newspaper] and Mary went to high school with Kim. Tallahassee's a very inbred town so everyone eventually knows everyone else. It's commonly refered to as Six Degrees of Tallahassee. It's generally a scary and annoying thing especially for long time townies like myself.
Anyway, last party was pretty eventful. I ended up meeting like half of the View staff, witnessed one of my friends go pretty much insane and then not be able to remember two hours of the night and manage to lock my car keys in Kim's apartment at four in the morning. Oh, did I mention that I got macked on by the star of the student film "Jack Often", the one, the only, Ryan McCormick? No? Well, he gave me beads, nice ones in fact, all red and metallicy. This time no one kissed Mary's feet and the party was just cool enough to get broken up by the cops, and I didn't even have to use my appropriated Farscape quote, "I don't do Nice". Drat.
A large group migrated to Denny's after the party broke up but that weekend was Kappa Luau so that was a no go. I have never seen that much traffic at five in morning...including Da Brat's van in the Scholtzki's Deli parking lot across from Denny's. Since Denny's was packed we again migrated to the less desirable Village Inn. This is where I got my beads, yea! And I didn't have to do anything for them aside from being my ordinary lovable self. Lemme take this time to mention how gullible and just generally dopey drunk people are. They actually believe I'm not evil. Suckers. Anyway, I now make it my plan to gather more beads without doing a damn thing for them.
When I returned to school on Monday I felt like a celebrity, "Hey, I got macked on by Jack Often! And he gave me beads!" No one seemed to care, imagine that. Oh, this was good too. I met a guy from the View named Kerry, who had apparently known Dionne through a class before their View stint. It turns out that Dionne believes that Kerry is the male version of me. I can see that, at one point I was watching him make some comment about James Spader and had to wonder if I had just said it. But Dionne told me that if Joe and I don't work out that she wants to hook me up with Kerry because once again....we're so much alike. "D, remember the last time you thought that [Erik]?...and look how well that turned out!"
Music report: I'm in love with my new Get Up Kids and Dance Hall Crashers CDs. Wow, I guess it is good to listen to V89 sometimes. Get Up Kids is classified as emocore I believe, something that Amazon.com defines as, "an especially melodic and angst-driven form of punk". It's very good for gray type days. Very much a Pixies descendent. The Dance Hall Crashers on the other hand are much more versatile on the listening scale. They remind me of Save Ferris if they had totally removed any ska influence and they didn't have any kitschy songs.
Get Up Kids "Something to Write Home About"
Dance Hall Crashers "Purr"On the radio side, I've become totally addicted to 94.5 Pirate Radio out of Panama City. They rock, aside from their morning show "BC & Bubba" which is only worthy because their air promos are so crudely funny [ex. "To all you virgins out there...thanks for nothing."]. They play everything rock from Nirvana and Pearl Jam, and Metallica to Zepplin, Hendrix, Lynard Skynard, and the Stones. I nearly screamed the day that I heard unedited Alice in Chains on the way to work. It made my day. It's gotten so bad that I know exactly where I start to get the station in and where I lose it around town. So if you're in Tally and like a good rock station that doesn't play redneck country-fied rock like Gulf 104, try Pirate. Only don't get freaked out when they announce the time and you're and hour off.
Rotting my brain out. Whatever.
There's an unexpected perk to watching Lifetime for Designing Women, I get to see Tori Spelling die at the hands of a still brunette and mousy Kellie Martin.
So tonight's Farscape is a rerun, the episode itself is commonly refered to as the Dead Badger Episode or something along those lines [said dead animal is at the discretion of the fan]. I wonder why the Sci-Fi channel insists on showing this episode when there are so many other good episodes to choose from that won't totally screw up the currently plot line for newbies. Sure, the obvious reason for showing it is to reel those estrogen newbies in with promos featuring Ben Browder shirtless. Good tactic. Only one problem...There's a dead rodent on his face! I know that most of the ladies on the 'shippers list were so distracted and horrified by that rodent that we couldn't appreciate Mr. Browder's otherwise godlike form. At least we get redeemed on Sunday night with a Chain Reaction of four viewer picked episodes. I'm very happy with the choices, including the Premiere which will be able to introduce any newbies to Farscape. Hint hint. Plus it has DK in it, a definite plus.
I found my perfect job: writing for Histeria!. C'mon, any show that has Julius Caesar being played by Frank Sinatra and Confucius leading a parody of the McLaughlin Group is right up my alley.
Oh Mr Sandman, bring me a dream
The featured dream of this entry concerns those lovely people in tights, those crime fighting flamers, the Superheroes. Of course in my mind everything gets warped just a teensy little bit. So my dream consisted of John McCarthy, the guy that nicknamed me Mary Magdalin, as the said superhero in our high school [yeah, someone's been watching just a wee bit too much Buffy] known as McCarthy the Elder. His younger brother, played by an unrelated but totally fitting Justin Perine, as Justin the Younger. Their collective power was...ta da! Opening Doors! The group also featured Sam, who could've only been played by Alexis, as this chick who could drop 80 pound bats out of the sky. No, I don't know how she did it. Neither did the ninja that came after her, that's why he came after her. Just like my girl, Sam gives said Idiot Ninja some false information that basically makes the bats dive bomb him and for revenge Ninja gives Sam a noogie. "That's for giving me false bat defeating information!"
I think the plot of the dream [plot? what plot?] was a power struggle between these kinda lame ass superheroes and their friends and the hereditary superheroes that also attended the school. These were the fools still clinging to their cheesy lame outfits and capes. So at the end of the dream Justin the Younger comes running down the hall just as McCarthy comes by. "Yo, Elder!" They go running off to convene a peace talk between two groups, of course having all the heavy ass fire doors just open automatically because they're cool like that. Next thing we know the meeting's been convened and McCarthy's group is starring lamely at the descendants of the Super Twins and Aquaman. And then Buffy's cell phone rings and every one gets annoyed. End of dream.
Pretty stupid dream but damn if I don't love the, "Yo, Elder!," and the fact that McCarthy's power is to open freaking doors. How whacked is that?
