Luke's Diner is in Thor?

This was made by someone named Yuri, her blog can be found at: http://lawyerupasshole.tumblr.com
and the direct link is here: http://lawyerupasshole.tumblr.com/post/5132695375 For some reason the direct linking is not available, just copy and paste. It's a scene from Thor, in which, thank you someone else for noticing, they are in Luke's Diner.

I went to Thor last night.

For 20 minutes I was pretty entertained. Then for twenty more minutes I began to wonder if it was going to turn out to be even more boring than Universal Soldier - The Return. Then, Chris Hemsworth took his shirt off, and it was all rainbows and unicorns after that.

About half way through the movie the "earth cast" and Thor walk into Luke's Diner from the Gilmore Girls. I haven't decided if it was the Stars Hollow set, or just the corner, but I will, don't you worry. Unfortunately, whatever part of the set they did use was destroyed by a rendition of the Terminator or by the force of the (SPOILER ALERT) hammer returning to Thor, I can't remember exactly. I was too busy mourning the destruction of Thor's face by a massive punch from the Terminator. So, I think that means there will be no Gilmore Girls movie...unless they rebuild, or work a tornado or hurricane into the story.

Natalie Portman was OK, I'm not sure I buy her as a nerdy physicist, but I imagine most women, Natalie Portman or not, would swoon and giggle in a very similar way if Chris Hemsworth swept them up against his armor to fly her to see a bridge.

Kat Dennings was pretty good too, funny, although not in it all that often.

I'm not a fan of Norse mythology, although I'm also not not a fan, if that makes sense. I was hesitant to see this movie, but it turns out the hesitancy was all for naught. I liked it, I liked the 3D, I understood the plot, they give enough of the mythology to allow you to figure out what's going on and what the stakes are, but the rest is all Thor, the character, and his relationship to everything else, and I enjoyed him as a character. There was no one moment in which he goes from (SPOILER ALERT) war monger to hero, it's almost as if he was that way all along, but having been allowed to thrive in his macho-ism, he just didn't remember anything else...until Natalie Portman, which again, I don't know about that.

I will say I did find myself on the verge of laughter when I thought about the "reality" of the plot line, but you know, it worked. I recommend seeing it in the theater in 3D, otherwise, wait 'til you can watch it at home and can pause it...every time he's shirtless.

As per the norm, it's been awhile. School is done for the summer, and as we speak I am checking my grade, which I'm sure will not be up yet. I didn't do all that great...I will never take a minority literature class again. I like the texts, but I hate, probably more than any other topic in the world, save for gum and bodily functions/ailments, talking about identity. I don't even know where my identity comes from, let alone a country that has a long history of being tortured, villainized, and interned by the great US of A. Moving on.

Literally, I'm moving. Probably July 1st. My roommates and I, at the urging of one in particular, have decided to go our separate ways. This is a big move, but one I've been thinking about for some time. I haven't lived alone since 2007, and even then one of my current roommates lived around the corner. This will be the first time I don't have any of my male counterparts within walking distance. I am both very glad and very sad about this. Glad because, you know, who, at 26, doesn't want their own space? Sad because, well, 1) it's the end of an almost decade long team, and 2) I don't have any other friends. Lame, right? I've been pretty lax in my friendship making since forever, but after The Fallout of 2009, I wasn't exactly in the mood, and now I may learn to regret that.

And more than that, I hope I learn to appreciate the friends I do have, more. I'm a very poor friend. I'm surprised people even bother, to tell you the truth. If it wasn't for my sense of humor, and middle-of-the-road advice, I suspect they probably wouldn't. I generally don't offer anything, I'm not a very good gift-giver, I'm not really emotionally available, I can be pretty judgmental, and unconsciously hold grudges in which the punishment is the withholding of any part of myself I may have given before, so most likely it will go unnoticed, which will only hurt my feelings which will then piss me off. Luckily, most people don't even get close to having to deal this particular level of, what I lovingly refer to as, psychosis.

Anyway, I looked at an apt yesterday that I was pretty much set on. It's a little out of my price range, but it has a balcony overlooking a pool, dishwasher, garbage disposal, W/D, tons of closet space, a huge bedroom, they pay heat and water, I was pretty much in, and willing to sacrifice regular food for it. But, just out of curiosity I went to look at a two bed that was $150 cheaper/mo and had two bedrooms, but is within a stone's throw of one of the GF ghettos.

The building isn't great, and when I walked in I was bombarded by the smell of pets, cats in particular, and quickly lost any amount of hope I had for this place. We walk up the stairs and the smell only gets worse as the temperature rises. I take off my shoes and walk into one of the biggest, nicest apartments I've looked at, ever, accept for the one earlier in the day. It doesn't have any of the amenities, but everything was in really good condition and it has two big bedrooms. I think I'm totally in. I'll get the carpets shampooed, because they too have a cat, but I can get over that. It's equidistant between work and downtown, and is still pretty darn close to the good movie theater, which is the only thing in Grand Forks I even care about. I like the idea of not being at my max every month, and not having to work at the hotel unless I want to. I'm going to be in grad school, and I just don't want to overdo it, as I am want to do. I'll have money to get furniture that I haven't seen every single day since I was 17. I can have one room dedicated to the part of me that still loves concert and movie posters, but the rest of it can look like a normal, 20-something, adult female who will never eat chicken wings again's, apartment.

Here's a photo of the outside, which actually does it more justice than it deserves, but look at that yellow...isn't it great or something?!

Well, I think this will do for now. I will try to go back to posting per week, if that was ever the case.

Happy Sunday!

Parenthood Season 2 Finale (The TV Show)

I just watched the season finale of the TV show Parenthood for the second time.

I want to love this show. I wish this was my new favorite show. A new X-Files, a new Gilmore Girls. It has all the makings of a wonderful soapratic dramedy. A Brothers and Sisters with different enough characters that I see no problem watching the drama of another family I can barely relate to, again. Don't get me wrong, I love this kind of show, and I so rarely find a good one, that when I do I'm just thrilled and will tell everyone about it, even though I'm usually a little embarrassed.

As an avid Gilmore Girls fan, Parenthood was on my radar right from the beginning. I'm pretty convinced Katharine Hepburn, Judy Garland and Rosalind Russell all dropped the best of themselves on the soul of Lauren Graham as they left the earth, but I digress.

Here's the problem. The show spends so much time watching itself, that the audience doesn't ever get a chance to actually see anything. What the hell am I talking about, right? Well, for instance, in a scene in which two people are looking at each other and talking, the camera will bounce back and fourth between the two characters, and often so quickly that by the time your eyes focus on a face, the camera is moving back to the other face.

It's really frustrating. I want to see the whole picture. I want to see the subtle facial expression that occur while the other person is talking. I don't want to have to work so hard to see what's going on in a frame.

The last two episodes were really filled with emotion, but so much of it was lost in the attempt to direct our focus to the speaker. I want to control where my eyes look. It's not a documentary, it's not The Office or Modern Family or Parks and Rec. Parenthood doesn't need the camera to be a character - no one responds to the camera in anyway, but we're forced to follow the supposed eye movements of some random cameraman? I can't stand it. Seriously. It greatly decreased the ability to transmit the raw emotion that the episode had been building up to. I should have cried. I should have cried a lot, but nothing.

So, I'm a little disappointed. It's still a pretty good show, though. I see a lot of potential in it, a lot, and I legitimately want it to be my favorite.

As soon as they start utilizing the full range of actors on that show, and focus a little more on the unspoken, it'll be through the roof.

My Funny V

http://siruguri.livejournal.com/


I discovered yesterday, much to my dismay, that I have been unconsciously, and now consciously scoping out future husbands. I have been a staunch advocate of singlehood since the dawn of my time, so I feel forced to attribute this only to the presence of a vagina, and all that comes with it.

Crude? Perhaps. But gimme a break here, Folks, this is a game changer. A couple of months ago, I was under the spell of what I lovingly refer to as "pure idiocy," aka, a large family, with four kids. If one, why not four, live a little, right? I was out of my freaking mind. And now this. THIS.

Every member of the male species is under scrutiny, many more briefly then others, but it's getting pretty ridiculous. Celebrities are on the table obviously, but I have even taken to googling their slightly less attractive, but closer to my age, younger brothers. Some random tall guy was looking at the river from our fire escape, and I wanted him to turn around...so I could see his face, of course.

AND, on top of that 'of course,' another: Of course, realistic possibilities, meaning not strangers, not people who live across the country and who are not famous, are not an option. That is why I attribute this to a vagina issue.

From here on out, until this little spell commits suicide, I will and must refrain from being, and this is the only time I will reference this in my life, "Drunk in pub-lik." It is absolutely, positively vital that I be successful, or the next thing I know I'm going to be holed up in some trailer with four little tykes screaming for their supper while my hick and I shape tinfoil into hats, awaiting Zeeton's orders. You laugh, but this is serious. Abortion suddenly becomes the only rational choice there, and I would just assume avoid that, too.

Pray for me.

A Doozy

It's been quite sometime since I updated - I've been busy with the damn drawing a day blog, which by the way, is really getting on my nerves already. It's been a month, and I'm just not sure what benefit it's bringing. I don't get any better, I spend an inordinate amount of thinking of things to draw, only to discover I don't really know how to draw most them. I suppose I will gain some things - patience, commitment, maybe a few random tricks of the trade, but I'm not sure it's worth it. I'm not going to stop, but I can feel other interests tickling the back of my brain, calling out, "Amy, play with me. Watch me. Listen to me. Read me. Make me. Paint me." You get the idea. My guitar is calling out loudest, and I may pick that up again here shortly.

My Asian American Lit class reads just about a book a week, and I'm behind.

We made it through season two of Californication, and were hesitant to start season three, but it's ok so far, just like the other seasons. Lots of sex, some drugs, some David Duchovny being very un-Mulder. I like it more than Human Target, but I'm not sure what that means. The Wonder Years is coming along - half way through season two. I never want to watch it, but once we start I usually enjoy it. I told my roommates to tell me to shut the fuck up when I hem and haw over watching it. We still watch Modern Family, Community, 30 rock and Parks and Rec - the funniest lost of shows TV has seen in quite awhile. I also watch Parenthood but my "macho" roommates are too good for that. Same with Brothers and Sisters, but even I'm losing interest in that show - then again I'm behind quite a few episodes, but I don't want to watch them until the seasons over.

What else? I was home for less than 48 hours last weekend for Cobin's first birthday and to try bridesmaid dresses for Sonya's wedding in July. Guava is the color, so a pink/orange color - actually I'll just post it here.

It's not quite that color, a little darker, a little oranger, but close. Actually even the color Guava on the website isn't the color of the actual dress. Anyway, it's stair climbing time. I have six floors in the building connected to mine, so when I get home from work I run up them as fast as I can twice. By floor three I'm usually ready to bust a lung, but it's kind of fun. I pretend I'm being chased, like in the movies. I do not run down the stairs though 1) Freddy Krueger 2) I'm clumsy and would hate to fall down all the steps - or even one flight for that matter.

I bought a Betty White calendar. March is totally cool:

I just got email from a very good friend of mine who I haven't talked with nearly enough over the last couple of years, but with just a few lines, he totally rocked my world.

"Saw your drawerings. Its like I am peeking into the artist's mind and finding chaotic order, the cognitive web that influences each day. Each time I react to a drawing, even if its in my own way and different from yours, this is THE connection. This transcends time, space, and unique experience; an inevitable friendship. A single tear rolls down my face, and I crack a smile as a warm chinook wind breezes through my hair. The heavy snow creeps above the sole, and against only thin in-step fabric--- a warm spring day rises from memory to reality, and I am six, and walking alone to school."

Holy shit, right. Essentially, it doesn't mean much to anyone else, but at the same time it totally points to this weird fucked up world we live in where things can be absolutely falling apart, and then we go and find these links between ourselves and other people, and those links are always there, no matter what, even when they feel broken or when we don't work hard at maintaining them. I'm always amazed at how detached I can be from the real world and feelings and all that good stuff, when I have people in my life like this, who constantly remind me that I live in this world, I participate in it, I influence and am influence by it, and in no way am I above it or beyond it, or somehow outside it. The inside experiences are the best ones any way, I don't know why I fight it.

Guess that's it for now - I'm going to go nurse my philosophical meltdown. Luckily, mine is far less serious than most, and will most likely go away with sunshine.

Ghoul Pool

Well, it's not so much a pool as a bathtub, but here we go. I do not want any of these people to die, but I want to be considered a psychic when they do. We all gotta go sometime.

These are in no particular order, but I will claim otherwise should some freak event occur in which these are in some kind of order.

Andy Griffith - heart failure
B.B. King - diabetes complications
Carol Channing - cancer
Fidel Castro - heart attack
Helen Thomas - kidney failure
Courtney Love - overdose
Harry Carey Jr. - mishap with a "toy" gun
Jack Lalanne - heart attack during sex
Jane Russell - heart attack during sex (may or may not be with Jack Lalanne)
Olivia de Havilland - I won't be surprised when Joan Fontaigne goes first. (stroke)
Kim Jong-Il - for some reason...I'm hesitant to speculate
Nancy Reagan - boredom, after suffering another fall
Mickey Rooney - on a horse...or heart attack on a horse to be more specific
Otto von Habsburg - on his throne, in his sleep
Snooki - punched in the nose, which stabs her brain
Billy Graham - swooped up by Jesus himself, til J-man learns he's an anti-Semite...
Phyllis Diller - lung cancer
Vera Lynn - heart failure
Zsa Zsa Gabor - cancer
Kirk Douglas - stroke

New Blog

Alright, I created a blog for the drawings. I may come to regret this. http://adrawingaday2011.blogspot.com/

The end of two thousand and ten, let eleven begin.

Well, 2010 started with the decision to move from St. Paul, back to Grand Forks to work as the secretary of the Anthropology Department at UND. I spent the first three months living at the America's Best Value motel, and it passed uneventfully, expect for on January 26th my friend Sonya gave birth to a little monkey. Not literally, of course, but he is my little monkey - a bouncing baby boy named Corbin, who I believe also came with an engagement ring.



I moved into an apartment on March 15th with my friends Ryan and Nick. We live downtown, above an organic food store, overlooking the Red River and the vision that is East Grand Forks, MN. It looks like a hill-less ski resort town in the moonlight, and like a shit hole in the sun. Not much to be done about that, I suppose.



Also in March was the birth of another bouncing baby boy, Elijah, to my cousin Sarah in Switzerland. I had hoped to find a kindred spirit in another March 11th kid, but he came on the 9th. Maybe that's close enough.



Let's see...in June we had the (now) annual Schlobohm Family Reunion with a little twist - instead of one day it was three, and instead of having it at Grandma's we had one day at my uncle's in Byron, one day at my aunt's just outside of Faribo, and one day at another uncles in Edina. And, as if that wasn't a big enough twist, we had themes: Hawaiian, All-American, and the 70's. I wore a dress in Hawaii, got sunburned and played volleyball in America, and was Mork (of Mork and Mindy) for about 25 minutes until my duct taped shirt's insulation threatened me with spontaneous combustion.



For the Fourth of July I met Sonya in Mil Lacs, and spent some time swimming and hanging out with her and the kids. Mary came up that day too, with her boyfriend Jesse, to watch the fireworks.

By August school was starting and I signed up for my three free classes: Philosophy of Economics, Creative Writing-Fiction, and Algebra. My job became slightly more complicated with the return of all the students, but it was a welcome complication. I also like when the student workers come back, they're very entertaining, and have really manned up to the task of keeping their old boss amused and free from unnecessary humming and pacing - we all know how I get in confined spaces. I hope they like their job, and appreciate having a boss that is flexible and understands how it is to be a student. Should they, unlike their boss, choose to participate in the real world, they will see how good they had it. Sometimes I'm too flexible, but you only live once, right? And who wants a boss who lives in the real world anyway? But, perhaps a New Year's resolution?

We had the Benson Family Picnic in Rochester the first weekend in August...the 7th, it was my sister's 22nd birthday. My mom's cousin gave everyone quite a scare when she wouldn't wake up the morning of the reunion and was rushed, conveniently, to Mayo. It's a long story involving a lot of information I "know" but don't really know, but she seems to be making an astounding recovery considering she had a large amount of white on her brain scans, and suffered spontaneous effects of brain damage weeks after arriving back home.

The smoking ban went into effect in Grand Forks on August 15th - just one step closer to making it illegal to emit any fumes in public - all the douche bags who like to fart or chew bubblegum in confined spaces are goin' down.

September through mid-December is kind of a blur. My friend Naomi had a baby boy named Dwight. Year of boys, I guess. One day I worked 24 hours straight, at three different places. I wrote my first official letter of complaint against my so-called "boss" and gave it to my actual boss. I got a B on my first graduate level paper, and an A in the class, from a notoriously difficult professor with whom I have had many times, usually ending with a grade of B or C. I'm tickled.

Now, here we are: 1-1-11. One year away from the year of the end of the world as we know it. It's so exciting. I suspect this year will bring an array of boring and not-so-boring events, but I look forward to it. Time goes by more quickly when I'm busy, and I do plan to rush these next few years, but not so much that I miss out, because I hate to miss out.

I'm thinking of doing a drawing a day and blogging about it. I've already done today's.



Happy New Year. As Otis Redding (and everyone else who's ever tried to) sang in White Christmas , may your days, may your days be merry and bright.

Bert the Duck and Cover Turtle

Holy shit, I have no life again. School is done. I'm sure I botched my 20 page paper on the freedom from coercion versus standard of living/quality of life...whatever that means. I should have chosen a less complicated topic, as usual, but whatever. I think I managed to hang onto my D in Algebra, maybe even bumped it up to a C...that's pushing it though. My creative writing class should be the saving grace in all of this, I did a massive rewrite of my second story. Even if the teacher hates the story, I did a full on throw away of all but the first page, so if that's not editing, I don't know what is.

I have now watched Tron twice, started the first season of Damages, watched two episodes of Brothers and Sisters, watched It's a Wonderful Life, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Everybody's Fine (which, by the way, I cried through almost the entire thing, for who knows what reason), and Prancer (which I proceeded to Tweet about all night).

All in all it's been pretty nice. I'm going to make a diorama, but I haven't chosen a scene yet. One of my roommates is doing the basement from Wayne's World. It looks pretty good so far. I was going to go to Michael's tonight, but of course we're having a snow storm...which is why I'm still at work at 4:49PM - I didn't bring my boots...or gloves...or hat...it was pretty nice at 8 this morning.

I had a nice conversation with my NASA friend. He's worked for NASA, that's why I say that. He has a habit of making me think about what the hell I'm doing here. He's been to 19 countries, worked for NASA, worked for the oil fields, has done archaeology all over the US, is finishing his master's in Space Studies this spring, and to top it all off, he want's to go to Harvard for architecture. He's a "doer" like I can only strive to be.

I'm going career hunting hardcore. There has to be something I would like and would be good for a significant amount of time. Seriously. Tomorrow though - I'm going home now :0)

Disney Town Murder

So, this story has me very intrigued. http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/us_death_in_disney_town

Here's my THEORY.

Disney built the town in 1996.

Walt Disney dies December 15th, 1966.

The man who killed himself, lost his business, in 2006. Here we have 666 - the first 6 in 66 was a safety net implemented by Walt in case Craig Foushee was able, by some miracle, to save his business.

Now, Craig gets divorced in 2009 - something Walt did not plan for, but which worked very well in his interest.

You see, Walt Disney had himself cryogenicly frozen...well, his head anyway, in anticipation of the scientific advancements that would allow him to get a new body. What no one planned for, of course, is the amount of pure imagination trapped in Walt's frozen head. When the thirty year anniversary of Walt's death came and passed without the necessary science to bring body and mind together, the people at Disney knew they had to do something before the imagination collapsed in on itself and vanished after 50 years. They built the town in an effort to begin the imagination release process - Operation Robin Williams - after the Genie, who is released from his bottle in Aladdin, just as Walt's imagination needed to be.

The community thrived, performing seances every night to release the "Genie." Eventually they realized, too much imagination had been released...it had become a living thing...an obsessive compulsive living thing that demanded strict order and bright, beautiful colors and happiness all the time.

An unfortunate requirement for Mr. Craig Foushee who, suffering from his divorce and bankruptcy was not happy at all. The imagination rose up from it's lair under the town and latched on to Foushee, forcing every unhappy muscle in his body to revolt against the implanted happiness. He had no choice. He had to kill Matteo Patrick Giovanditto, who lived with his chihuahua, and was as happy as a clam.

As my (most likely one and only) reader knows, I love the X-Files. It was not a difficult leap to make then, when I heard about this small handbook guided community, who found itself in the midst of murderers, that the culprit is a monster buried under the ground, created by none other than Walt Disney, and, in fact, is Walt Disney.

Please remember, this is all speculation, and 95% imagination. What happened to both victims, which I believe both of them are, is absolutely terrible and heartbreaking. Surely even they would admit though, that it's straight out of the X-Files, and I'm sure Disney doesn't mind a little imagination in the face of travesty. May they all rest in Disneyland.

You heard it here first.

The end.

P.S. To my reader: Meet me in Hawaii in three years, haha.

Gnivigsknaht

It's official, I will not be living in Minnesota. Maybe I'll have a summer cabin or something if I ever strike it rich, but Minnesota has way too much baggage. I like being available for things and events and what not, but good god, all I ever think about it the next thing I need to do. My life in Minesota has always revolved around other people, and while I enjoy that in small doses, I need a place to go when it's all over, and currently that place is my parents couch or my sister's bedroom, where I happen to be at this very moment - using her computer because my parents don't have wireless internet and I'm too lazy to crawl under her desk to get the cord.

I love my friends and I love my family, but I like this lifestyle a little too much, I think - I have no responsibility except actually making it to all of my destinations. I rarely have to bring anything, except myself. I am the "That Crazy Amy." The problem is, I have a life outside of this, a life that has responsibility, expects things of me, and demands a pretty big chunk of my focus. Although, after this semester that demand will go down, and I certainly have chosen the responsibility, but the 90% of the time I spend in North Dakota is terribly boring otherwise, and unfortunately I can't just shut school off two weeks befoe finals.

Thanksgiving was nice - good food, good people, bad sports on TV. It always goes by so quickly. You see these people a handful oftimes a year and your supposed to catch up with all of them in just a few hours, most of time, while eating. But then at the same time, it probably why everyone still gets along and has fun the whole time - no one really knows anyone.

And, on that note, I am being beckoned by children and I can not refuse. More later.

Tim O'Brien - The Things They Carried

Joel Lardner

I am currently rereading The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien, in preparation for the arrival of said Tim O'Brien in Grand Forks, this Thursday.

I'm always a little torn when it comes to war stories, because I often feel like it's science fiction in a biographical cloak. That is not to say I think war stories are science fiction, but what often happens is the stories which are so unbelievable, yet true, get reduced to the normal stories of war. I realize part of the message of these kinds of books and part of the effects of being in a war is that the fantastic and horrifying become nondescript, and day to day - in a way that people can or cannot manage.

However, I do not believe that the transition from non-war to war for drafted soldiers would also be so "by the book." Some live, some die, some freak out, some get medals, some tell the stories, some make the stories, some struggle more, some struggle less - like it's just the experience of a normal section of humanity dropped into a unusual situation. The movie Dangerous Minds comes to mind (thanks to the new version being made), or any of about 1,000 stories.

In stories, most people 1) survive their unusual experience, 2) do not end up with PTSD.

I haven't decided on Tim O' Brien's stories. I read them in high school, and now I'm reading them again in a slightly different world. The really strange part about all of this is that war stories are often written by soldiers - soldiers who did or saw or lived the stories they are telling, and here I am saying it's too easy to make the stories normal - why not pull a Superman out of war? Are the soldiers who come back the same kids who left? Are the soldiers who come back the same soldiers who were in combat? I would argue not, but then someone will inevitable ask if we are ever the same after life-changing experiences, and I would argue that yes, many people are the same, but in war, most people are not. High school graduation is is the first step toward major life changes, but it is not what drives the personality change.

Ok, ok, I'm getting carried away before I've even reread a third of the book, I'm "responding to." I may or may not come back to this, but it is all to say that Tim O'Brien is coming here on Thursday and I'm excited for some academic social activities.

Weekend!

Well, I have this weekend off, and by off I mean totally off, no work, no driving ridiculous distances, a little bit of reading and homework, but I don't have to leave my house if if I don't want to. This hasn't happened since some time back in April I think...whenever I started working "every other weekend" which really means every weekend, and a couple days out of the week. I've worked 60+ hour weeks ever since, and now that school's started I dropped the hotel some, but picked up...Economics.

I get home Mondays around 8PM, Tuesdays around 9PM, Wednesdays around 8PM, Thursdays around 9PM, then Friday at 5PM, but I work at 11PM, so I go right to bed. Then, I get done Saturday at 7AM and usually return by 9PM. Of course, this all on a good week. It wasn't long ago that on a Friday I worked 8AM-4:30PM, 5PM-12AM, 12AM-8AM. All at different places. Needless to say, this is how I look most days...




Not this weekend though. This weekend, I'm going to look like this...



Or maybe this, if I play my cards right...



Agh, who I'm I kidding. I don't like to drink much. Then again, I haven't been to a bar since the smoking ban in mid-August. We'll see what happens.

My new tatoo.

I think I might have to get me one of these.

Adult-onset Disfuctional Mental Multitasking (ADMM)

I was often chastised by adults for listening to music or watching TV while I did homework. As I got older, I honestly believed that music or some other "subliminal" noise was keeping the focus of the part of my brain that was easily distracted. The part that would wonder while I was reading, was now focused on the music playing. I was productive, I understood the material, I was conceptualizing, I was retaining.

Now, in the last six months, my ability to listen to music while studying, and retain what I have read is approaching 0. Every now and again, I'm still able to do it, but more and more I find myself having to shut it off. And I do not do so happily. I've tried jazz, blues, classical - piano and cello, folk, I get distracted by all of them. Television is hopeless, unless I really hate the show or have seen it and didn't particularly like it , but those shows are few and far between.

I turned 25 in March. I can see this as the only cause of the deterioration of my mental multitasking abilities.

I would like to think that "practicing" would help, or mental exercises, but isn't that what I've been doing all along, every time I listen to music and study?

I will overcome this. I have to. I don't have to listen to music every time I decide to study or read, but I want to be able to when I decide I want to. I can think of nothing better than listening to Muddy Waters while reading Toni Morrison, or Miles Davis while reading The Great Gatsby or McTeague, Thelonious Monk while evaluating Political Liberalism, Mumford and Sons while practicing solving problems using the quadratic equation. It's all part of the experience that leads to retention.

Christine O' Donnell and other rantings.

I am pissed off. Time for a rant.

School started wonderfully, I was ahead in my homework, turning things in on time, and don't tell anyone, but sometimes early.

Then, last week I look at the syllabus for my Philosophy of Economics class, and the assignment is a chapter of the book and two article posted online, only they weren't posted yet. I waited and waited, checked the syllabus again, waited some more, sent the professor an email, waited some more, he said he'd post them soon, I waited some more, ranted and raved about how the professor was totally fucking up my rhythm, checked the syllabus again last night, only to discover that Thursday is not the 23rd, but the 16th, and I'm a week off. Our response papers were due about 10 minutes ago, and needless to say mine is not there. Our class isn't until tomorrow, so I still have time to do the reading, but I probably won't get points for the response.

Normally, this would not be a big deal, and it's actually not a big deal, but it MUST BE A BIG DEAL, or I might as well consider the semester over right now. I have set very strict, not so strict rules for myself, and if I waive one, I will completely relapse into my very lackadaisical self.

Ok, moving on. Beware of major F-bombs below.

Delaware!!!??? What the fuck are you thinking???!!!!

Now before I get arrested for libel or something, all of this information came from sources which are listed at the bottom of the page.

Christine O' Donnell as your US Senator? You have got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the people in the whole fucking state, you find the one fucking person who most resembles, and may turn out to be worse than, fucking Sarah Palin. I am sickened. For God's sake she thinks masturbation is wrong. She didn't get her BA until this summer. She worked her campaign from her townhouse and used donation money to pay half the rent. Of course, this is because she lost her actual house in Wilmington. She owed $90,000 on it, and the government was going to auction it, and she sells it to her campaign manager. She owes back taxes. She's fucking homophobic. If she wins, there will be no doubt in my mind that the end of the world as we know it, will occur on Dec. 21st, 2012. On Dec. 22nd, the aliens will be coming to inoculate all of us in preparation for a new life of slavery on the planet Halvoxaite, because we are completely incapable of managing a planet ourselves.

This Tea Party business is really starting to freak me out. I went to a meeting in Grand Forks early this year, and it was pretty standard "we don't work to pay for your health care" blather, which is fine, people are entitled to their opinion and their property, but then this guy comes out and starts ranting and raving about liberty and shouting lines from Braveheart, "They may take our lives, but they'll never take our FREEDOM!" When he was done, people cheered. Maniacs. Heartless extremism, at it's very worst. They don't understand the economy, religion, the Constitution, freedom, or liberty. They blame all Muslims for 9/11, and are just flat out ignorant. Now, I will add one qualifier. Not all Tea Party members are this way, I'm sure of that, but I haven't met a single one. I'm not exactly in a location that's conducive to meeting Tea Party members, but I haven't even heard of one who can make a valid argument - even one I disagree with! It's all been rubbish - rumors and hate mongering. And now Christine O' Donnell is the Republican nominee for US Senate in Delaware. Unbefuckinglievable.

Ok, rant over.

Have a lovely day!

Here's her campaign website, conveniently, nothing fucking works, all links are broken. http://christineodonnell.com/home/

Oh yeah, and her facebook page, where you can't write on her wall or find anything about her views. You can donate though! Please don't!
http://tpmdc.talkingpointsmemo.com/2010/09/odonnells-greatest-hits.php

http://www.christineodonnell08.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christine_O%27Donnell

All names have been changed...except mine.


Dear Paul,

This is a formal complaint against the current manager of the Highway Crown Inn, Glen Marrow.

Recount of events:

I arranged and confirmed multiple times that I would have the weekend of August 13 and 14th off, in exchange for working two weekends in a row (August 20, 21st and 28th, 29th) with Rachel, the assistant manager, so that I could work at the Great 7 while Julie had jury duty. On Wednesday, August 4th I came to the HCI to get my check. As I was leaving, I remembered that Rachel had wanted everyone to write down their schedules before the 8th. I went to grab a sheet of paper and she said something to the effect of, “You’re every other weekend, we know you’re schedule, you don’t have to write it down.” I replied something like, “Ok, and you don’t have me on for this weekend or the 13th and 14th, right?” To which Rachel said, “Yep, you’re good.” I left. As far as I was concerned, my next days to work at the HCI were the 20th and 21st, which I would have confirmed early that week as I ALWAYS do.

On the 13th I received a call from Michael at 11:04PM asking if I was coming in to work. I said no, I’m at G7 until midnight, it should be Joe. He sounded angry about this, and said he was going to call around and see what happened. Twenty minutes later I get a call from Glen asking what the deal was. He was aggressive right from the beginning of the conversation, interrupting me, yelling, saying it was my responsibility to check the schedule, to which I responded that I did, multiple times, he said the schedule wasn’t out until Monday, I said yes, but I shouldn’t have to call daily, I confirmed with the assistant manager before she made the schedule, so there was no reason for me to check it again, and my responsibilities had been fulfilled, you’ll have to take it up with Rachel. He continued to yell and blame me for the whole situation. I told him I was at the Great 7 and that I didn’t appreciate the way he speaking to me, he continued on saying he was ticked off, I said well, you’re not my boss, Paul is. He said well, maybe that’s how it’s going to have to be from now on. I asked if he was firing me, he talked over me, saying more about how I’d report to Paul. I apologized for saying he wasn’t my boss, that technically, every other weekend he is my manager, but that Paul is my main boss and that he can’t talk to me like this, and said again that it was inappropriate for him to be yelling at me; I have guests in the lobby buying snacks, to which he again said I’d be under Paul and hung up on me in a huff. I immediately called Paul and recounted the conversation.

After I got off the phone with Paul, the guest in the lobby began offering me legal advice, explaining that I didn’t need to tolerate that kind of behavior, that I had done nothing wrong. He said I handled it well. He suggested I talk with Glen’s supervisor, and I told him that’s what I’d just done. The guest said if I needed anything, he was staying in room 110 on the night of the 13th, he could be looked up as a “witness” if need be.

I find this to be a disgusting misuse of authority and irresponsible management. He acted childishly, and threw a fit that could not be calmed down, no matter what I said. I know that he was upset because he was going to have to work the shift, but that is absolutely no excuse. If he had simply called and explained there was no one to work and there had been a misunderstanding, I would have worked it, just like I ALWAYS do. If Glen had taken two minutes to find out anything about me, he would know that I’m the one that gets called when no one can work, and if I’m in town and not working somewhere else, I do it. All he would have had to do was ask. I work 60 hour weeks in order to help out and fill in where I can, I frequently work double shifts (often leaving one hotel for another), I work all shifts, I do my work, I’ve called in sick twice in 6 years many hours before I was due in, I’ve never missed a scheduled shift, but Glen can’t even bother to introduce himself when I met him for the first time to pick up my check on the 4th. He has shown me no respect since the day I started, he can’t even get my address right on my paychecks (I’ve corrected it twice), just tells me they’ll cash it if I go to Bremer, which is not my bank, and is an extra stop for me.

It is my suspicion, that Glen harbors resentment over me being hired at the HCI through Paul, rather than himself, and may now use this instance as retaliation to fire me in the future, specifically because I called into question his authority over me. I understand that I am not being fired, but I am concerned that he may not act professionally in the future. I would prefer that I have zero to limited contact with Doug as I feel his presence and attitude toward his employees creates one of hostility that I would rather not have in my life. I work weekend over nights, so I really don’t see this request being an issue. As I said, the first time I met him in three months was last week. His bullying tactics may work on his younger employees, but I will not tolerate it.

I hope that you take this complaint seriously, as I have never had to write a formal complaint on any of your employees in six years, nor have spoken so harshly about any of them. In fact, I can’t think of a single one I’ve had any real problem with at all. I even got along pretty well with Martha, and she was one of the worst. I do not feel comfortable around Doug, and I do not trust him or his motivations, and I hope you can respect that.



Thank you for time,

Amy Kielmeyer

New Grand Forks

I have approximately 10 days left in Old Grand Forks. On the 23rd, which conveniently is when school starts, I'm entering New Grand Forks. Basically, this will consist of me tricking myself into believing I am actually moving to a new physical space. In order to this, a number of things must happen:

1. Clean out my closet. Why this is number one on the list I can't say, but walking in to a clean closet is sure nice.

2. Force all things which do not have a "place" to take over something else's space, or be thrown in the garbage. I could donate, but let's face it, I'm lazy.

3. Change routines. I'll be taking a new way to work. Maybe not the most efficient way, but a new way. Incorporate 30 minute nap up to 3 days/wk as needed.

4. Maintain schedule. This will be the most difficult, and I probably should have been doing so all summer, but live and learn. I LOVE being able to do things when they come up, and I think if I monitor my decisions closely, I will be successful. If someone calls at 10:00PM for a drink, I can go so long as I'm back by 11:00. If I don't think I'll be back by then, I don't get to go. I must be firm enough to give myself real structure, but flexible enough so I don't become rebellious.

5. Pay Attention. I'm going to start looking around more. I'm not, nor have I ever been, very detail oriented. My job demands it, and yet, I find myself ignoring important spelling errors, simple arithmetic errors, etc.

6. Blog as if I actually am in a new place. This'll be pretty difficult too, but we'll see what happens. Expect a change.

My New Plan

I must work for SETI.

Or somewhere that researches similar kinds of things, namely extra-terrestrial communications and questions of time/space, etc.

I am starting from the beginning - Algebra. Unfortunately, I have always been a little too adept at finding my way around rules and doing things I don't want to do. Some would call this cheating, I would probably call it cheating now, but at the time, I considered it ingenuity. I never actually cheated, I never had someone else do my homework, I just ordered teacher edition books, or memorized everything. The teacher editions might be cheating...I'm not sure. Memorizing, though, was just veering around the actual work. I still worked hard making note cards, and doing the actual memorizing, it was just a type of work I was familiar with and so it seemed easier than sitting there doing math problems I didn't understand immediately.

I like work that I know how to do. I like that work to be dynamic, and complex, but I want to already have the tools and knowledge of the tools at my "immediate" disposal. By immediate, I just mean that I don't want to have to practice for months before I get the hang of it.

I MUST get over this. Few things are learned in a day, and I think I'm running out all the possibilities there. Reading books, watching movies/TV, making art projects, etc. Plus, all these things cost money (presumably, though I've found ways around this, too).

Ultimately, it comes down to commitment, and I have very little. I attribute this to my 8th grade teacher giving me a -27% on an English assignment. How is this possible, you ask? I don't know. I did more wrong than was actually required to be right, I suppose. Up until that point, I pretty much had straight A's. To be honest, I laughed at the -27% (which the more I think about it may have actually been -43% and I'm in denial), but the laughter was out of disbelief, and at that moment I felt my care for grades float away. My brain had to protect me from the desire to try to reconcile a grade so poor it was below zero with my desire to do well in school - the only thing I had really committed to.

Small price to pay, I say. While I attribute my noncommittal attitude to this moment, I am also VERY grateful I'm not one of those freaks who cry and lash out over a bad grade. Every time I've gotten a bad grade, I know exactly why: Very Little Effort (VLE). When I've gotten good grades, the pride comes from a feeling of successful deception, as I most likely put forth VLE. Boy, does that make things easy.

My days of little effort must end. I think. It's going to be difficult, as I'm pretty sure it's now hard-wired, but I find I may be just competitive enough to duke it out with my very lazy alter-ego, AKizzle.

I will miss the fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, carefree, schedule-free, why not?, go for it, let's do it self, that balances out my very boring no-I-have-to-go-to-bed self, but I'm confident the adjustment will not be too painful, and that my good logic will figure out a way to make what I MUST do into that which I WANT to do, and will therefore transform the MUST into the fun part, returning to me the carefree self.

If I can suffer through the homework of Algebra, and then Calculus, I will be on my way to Mechanics, Astrophysics, and Electricity. I will soon be on my way to sound waves and sitting in a room with headphones listening to space static. I'm actually not that interested in the sitting in the room part. I'm a brainstormer. I want to be able to help think of ways the technology we have can be reformulated to work for other things. For instance, wind energy. It's essentially a reverse fan. One would think that on days when it's particularly windy, the turbine would not move at a constant speed, but at a speed proportional to the amount of wind with a limit dependent on the torque of the blades. Thereby making more energy that we could store up for future use, or immediately transport to the grid. I don't actually know what that last part entails, but it sounds right, right?

Someone's probably going to steal my logic now and make millions. Then again, perhaps it already exists. That's what I have to find out, and that is why I am going to take as many physics classes as I have to in order to get into the MS program at UND. I'm going to be here any way, and I get 9 free credits a year.

I went to the library yesterday and got 4 books on mathematical history and theory, one being Intro to Mathematics by Alfred North Whitehead, which is shockingly interesting (once you get through the series of 40 consecutive yawns that come from reading a math book). This book was written in 1911, but from what I gather is one of the premiere math theory books for those claiming mathematical retardation, such as I.

We'll see how this goes. My last jaunt into concrete decision making combined with action lead to the Iowa Debacle of 2009, so I'm a little skittish, but I can't really do much worse than that, and it's not costing me any money (at the moment), and hopefully the desire to not fail will be motivation enough to push me through the tedious part.

To infinity, and beyond!

Speaking of Buzz, I saw Toy Story 3 and pretty much cried my eyes out through the whole thing, but it was really good.

Ken to Barbie: I love your leggings.

Barbie to Ken: I love your ascot.

Get it? Haha

I Made Another Teacher Psycho

I was recently informed...recent as in about five minutes ago, that my Classical Studies professor attacked a nurse after receiving psychiatric treatment. This is interesting because the man is the human incarnation of Winnie the Pooh. He's very round and pudgy, kind of like those little Fisher Price toys, but a cute-ish looking older man, even though I think he's only in his early 50's. He looks like a Lutheran pastor at a more conservative church...that's really the best description I can give.

I would not have a third major in Classics if it weren't for this man. Granted, I didn't learn a thing, but he made it very easy for me to work hard memorizing, take the test, and then forget everything. At the time I was working the overnights, so I often came in late and disheveled, or not at all; claiming all kinds of things from: I was in a car accident that left me with two flat tires, someone didn't show up for their shift, my roommate fell down the stairs and broke his leg, my kitten was throwing up all night and brought to the veterinarian at 6am where we sat until 10:00AM, etc. Most of the time I did feel guilty for such exaggeration, buuuut...I had to pass four semesters of Latin! HAD TO inorder to get my English degree.

Why didn't you just choose Spanish, or German, or Norwegian, you ask? I should have. I should have taken Spanish, but by the time I realized it, it was too late, and I was on a very tight semester by semester schedule. Dropping Latin or not passing even one semester with a C would have meant no graduation. This particular professor made this true feat of nature occur: Semester 1 - C, Semester 2 - A, Semester 3 - A, Semester 4 - A. I don't know Latin. I know a couple phrases, and seriously, I mean a couple.

Now I learn, the man's probably losing it, at least a little. A similar thing occurred in my high school. I might have tortured her on a very small scale - stealing staplers, markers, pens, CD's, hall passes. I whistled like a bird in the back of class, unplugged her computer monitor, and on the last day of class threw a bag of marbles in her classroom. Nothing major or that would have caused any pain, and nothing she could even attribute to me, but when I learned she had a stroke, I couldn't help but feel I had somehow contributed. Delusions of grandeur, I suppose, but here's the strange part...She was my Spanish teacher.

I feel a little guilty. I know on a grand scale I didn't do anything, the Latin teacher doesn't know I ever lied (or made fun of this weird sucking sound he made after he had some dental problems), the Spanish teacher never knew I was laughing at her and not with her...was there really any harm done? I would think no, but both have had serious mental issues. I think the only reason I may suspect any contribution on my own part is because these are the only people I've really chosen to bug, and the Latin teacher I didn't really like doing it, it was a survival mechanism.

Ok, I've gone on enough. I've confessed my possible guilt. Hopefully things remain balanced in my Karma world.