<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295</id><updated>2012-01-30T22:39:37.618-05:00</updated><category term='Strictly Ballroom'/><category term='classics'/><category term='damn kids'/><category term='discussion'/><category term='Netflix'/><category term='Lego porn'/><category term='Day Late and a Dollar Short'/><category term='Buffy stuff'/><category term='teenage years'/><category term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category term='tattoos'/><category term='Paheeba Day'/><category term='80s'/><category term='Showgirls'/><category term='Texas Chainsaw Massacre'/><category term='suggestions please'/><category term='Seriously?'/><category term='real time review'/><category term='literacy yay'/><category term='Sisters'/><category term='yay'/><category term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><category term='Group Virtual Movie Date Night'/><category term='Cannonball Read'/><category term='hideous doll cakes'/><category term='R.I.P. John Hughes'/><category term='review'/><category term='birds are awesome'/><category term='R.I.P. Beauregard'/><category term='positive outlook'/><category term='Favorite Films'/><category term='meteor showers'/><category term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category term='Pajiba'/><category term='Why can&apos;t I write?'/><category term='awefulsomely bad'/><category term='bad movies'/><category term='Black Death'/><category term='stars'/><category term='vacation time'/><category term='Ghost World'/><category term='college'/><category term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category term='R.I.P. Alabama Pink'/><category term='Sad'/><category term='documentary nerd'/><category term='why doesn&apos;t Borders have &quot;Clue&quot;'/><category term='Repo: The Genetic Opera'/><category term='plague'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus'/><category term='Galaxy Quest'/><category term='Coraline'/><title type='text'>Anna von Beaverplatz:</title><subtitle type='html'>A Pseudonym.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-4223623207366265358</id><published>2010-07-14T11:23:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T18:19:01.808-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discussion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why can&apos;t I write?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Buffy stuff'/><title type='text'>In remembrance of No-Whining Wednesday.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt;Well, hello again! It's Wednesday today, and you know what that means: No Whining! I have been pretty whine-y lately, I tell you what, and so today, I've decided I'm bringing NWW back. At least, for today. For me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since it's been so darn long since I've read any blogs or written in my own, here's a nifty li'l meme I found courtesy of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal" href="http://paiwings.blogspot.com/"&gt;Saranga&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"&gt; (she found it on &lt;a href="http://www.moley75.co.uk/"&gt;Let's Fold Scarves&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It seems like a swell way of getting back into the groove, so to speak, since Buffy is pretty much my favorite thing ever. I'll probably actually start tomorrow, to give me a chance to think about my answers (or maybe I'll start on #1 tonight, after work). I miss writing, I miss Buffy, and I miss me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/TD3a_t_0t8I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Zvm_fzCkuIc/s1600/Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer-Angel--Avatar-2010-02-25.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493787908675778498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/TD3a_t_0t8I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Zvm_fzCkuIc/s320/Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer-Angel--Avatar-2010-02-25.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30 DAYS OF BUFFY!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Day 1: Favorite Season&lt;br /&gt;Day 2: Favorite Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 3: Favorite Song Used In An Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 4: Favorite Female Character&lt;br /&gt;Day 5: Least Favorite Female Character&lt;br /&gt;Day 6: Favorite Male Character&lt;br /&gt;Day 7: Least Favorite Male Character&lt;br /&gt;Day 8: Favorite Friendship&lt;br /&gt;Day 9: Favorite Romance&lt;br /&gt;Day 10: Least Favorite Season&lt;br /&gt;Day 11: Least Favorite Romance&lt;br /&gt;Day 12: Least Favorite Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 13: Favorite Potential Slayer&lt;br /&gt;Day 14: Favorite Female Villain&lt;br /&gt;Day 15: Favorite Male Villain&lt;br /&gt;Day 16: Episode You Like That Everyone Else Hates&lt;br /&gt;Day 17: Character You Relate To The Most&lt;br /&gt;Day 18: Character Who Didn’t Get Enough Screen Time&lt;br /&gt;Day 19: Character You Like That Everyone Else Hates&lt;br /&gt;Day 20: Best Spike-centric Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 21: Best Willow-centric Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 22: Best Xander-centric Episode&lt;br /&gt;Day 23: Two Characters You Wanted To Get Together That Never Did&lt;br /&gt;Day 24: Favorite Example of 90s Special Effects&lt;br /&gt;Day 25: Favorite Buffyverse Saying&lt;br /&gt;Day 26: Favorite Scooby Moment&lt;br /&gt;Day 27: Cutest Moment&lt;br /&gt;Day 28: Character You Love To Hate&lt;br /&gt;Day 29: Episode You Hate That Everyone Else Loves&lt;br /&gt;Day 30: What You Think Made Buffy So Great&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Should be a nice, gentle way to re-acquaint myself with the act of blogging. Lovely. I've also been thinking of a nice Real-Time Review of something awful (&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I Know Who Killed Me&lt;/span&gt;, specifically), but it's been too long since I've written anything, and I'm feeling fairly useless at it. So, we'll just take it nice and slow, and step back into it gradually. Here we go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Edited to change a "no" to a "know". Because I'm kind of dumb sometimes.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-4223623207366265358?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/4223623207366265358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=4223623207366265358&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/4223623207366265358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/4223623207366265358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2010/07/in-remembrance-of-no-whining-wednesday.html' title='In remembrance of No-Whining Wednesday.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/TD3a_t_0t8I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Zvm_fzCkuIc/s72-c/Buffy-the-Vampire-Slayer-Angel--Avatar-2010-02-25.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-6316291489930481849</id><published>2010-07-01T11:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-01T11:52:28.804-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day Late and a Dollar Short'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why can&apos;t I write?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='literacy yay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><title type='text'>Well, would you look at that?</title><content type='html'>I was just looking over this here blog and notice I've not posted anything in MONTHS. SIX months, to be just a touch more precise. And I come back and there's all these fancy new templates, and about a billion spambot comments on my post about my dead cat. Awesome. Now I have to engage the comment moderation feature. Which I don't suppose matters since I'm sure everyone has forgotten this blog exists. Because of the not writing in it for SIX  MONTHS. Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember when I used to blog at least once a week? *sigh* Ah, memories....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-6316291489930481849?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/6316291489930481849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=6316291489930481849&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6316291489930481849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6316291489930481849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2010/07/well-would-you-look-at-that.html' title='Well, would you look at that?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-6801375574043369794</id><published>2010-01-14T10:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T10:57:48.005-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><title type='text'>Thursday! It can't be! It's too gruesome!</title><content type='html'>Ode to a Spider I Saw on the Wall in the Kitchen This Morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spider-guy, spider-guy,&lt;br /&gt;doin' whatever a spider guy does.&lt;br /&gt;He's small and brown and kind of creepy.&lt;br /&gt;Running around, being... creepy.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah- there goes the spider-guy under the microwave Jesus H. Jumping Christ on a unicycle please get a newspaper or something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all week, ladies and gentlemen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for an hour tonight at 6:00... I'm going to the diner. Spinach and tomato omelet, HERE I COME. GET IN MY BELLY.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-6801375574043369794?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/6801375574043369794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=6801375574043369794&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6801375574043369794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6801375574043369794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2010/01/thursday-it-cant-be-its-too-gruesome.html' title='Thursday! It can&apos;t be! It&apos;s too gruesome!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-8897726090716825366</id><published>2009-12-30T09:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T10:26:50.913-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why can&apos;t I write?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cannonball Read'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SztvYDMSJEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/SsJllz43-BU/s1600-h/wednesday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SztvYDMSJEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/SsJllz43-BU/s320/wednesday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421049035434894402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG. It's been over a MONTH since I made a post on this blogamabob thingie? What a slacker!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose the truth of the matter is, I haven't had much to say. Everything's been on a fairly even keel; work's busy, what with it being year-end and all, but not horrible (I love my job, so even bad days really aren't bad); school's done for the semester, and I loved those classes, and I did well in them (an A in both), and I'm enjoying the break and looking forward to next semester; I've been catching up on re-watching &lt;a href="http://lostpedia.wikia.com/wiki/Main_Page"&gt;Lost&lt;/a&gt; seasons 1-5 in preparation for the 6th and final season beginning on February 2nd (as of last night, I'm about 2/3rds of the way through s3, and the Bluray of s5 is on its way); I've also picked my Nintendo DS back up and continued on my way through &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Legend-Zelda-Phantom-Hourglass-Nintendo-DS/dp/B000FRV2UK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=videogames&amp;amp;qid=1262185609&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;The Legend of Zelda: The Phantom Hourglass&lt;/a&gt;, which is loads of fun and I'm excited about it; and I've also been trying to do some cleaning out, a little at a time, so I don't wind up being the subject of &lt;a href="http://www.aetv.com/intervention/index.jsp"&gt;Misery&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.aetv.com/hoarders/"&gt;Night&lt;/a&gt; Chat on the Facebooks and doing some pleasure reading so my brains don't rot from too much teevee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I think I've felt guilty for not posting any reviews on &lt;a href="http://beaverplatzandthecannonballread.wordpress.com/"&gt;my other blog&lt;/a&gt; for the Cannonball Read. I've been reading; I read &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ragtime&lt;/span&gt; and made notes and I just have to do the actual writeup and post it, but I haven't gotten around to it. I'm in the middle of two more books, and have a pile ready for after that. I'm just putting far too much pressure on myself to have some New York Times Book Review to put up, when I don't really need to do that, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there are my excuses for not posting. I'm gonna get back to doing it regularly, though, I really am. I enjoy it, and I miss it, and there's no reason for me not to. A new year is coming, and as I've said elsewhere, I don't believe in resolutions, especially those based on an arbitrary point such as a calendar date, but I do believe in deciding to improve myself any old time. I've got books to read, and movies to watch, and I will write about them. So there. (That so there was really more for me than anyone else, by the way.) I hope everyone is having a wonderful holiday season, and isn't freezing to death like I &lt;a href="http://www.weather.com/weather/local/07436?lswe=07436&amp;amp;lwsa=WeatherLocalUndeclared&amp;amp;from=whatwhere"&gt;currently am&lt;/a&gt;! Happy No Whining Wednesday, and Happy Aught Ten!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-8897726090716825366?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/8897726090716825366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=8897726090716825366&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8897726090716825366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8897726090716825366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/12/omg.html' title=''/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SztvYDMSJEI/AAAAAAAAAGE/SsJllz43-BU/s72-c/wednesday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1794428301311437625</id><published>2009-11-18T07:47:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T08:00:45.841-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paheeba Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pajiba'/><title type='text'>No Whining Paheeba Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SwPtQWJE7lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/y3m7zpVlBN8/s1600/Sparkle+Murdertank.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 288px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SwPtQWJE7lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/y3m7zpVlBN8/s320/Sparkle+Murdertank.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405424842852068946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, Hello! I know I've been relatively sporadic about this here blog thinger the last couple of weeks. I've been having some "Why me?" time. But no more! Today is No Whining Wednesday, and therefore, there shall be no whining. Not even with PMS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more importantly, though: it's Paheeba Day! If you don't know what that is, I recommend you&lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/"&gt; check it out&lt;/a&gt;. The fierce womyns of Pajiba are taking over for the day, and it is amazing, because THEY are amazing. This is a seriously talented, beautiful, thoughtful group of people. Bonus: all the ad revenue for the day is going to &lt;a href="http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/rip-warrior-goddess.html"&gt;Li'l Alabama Pink's&lt;/a&gt; college fund, so click on some ads! Believe me when I tell you, I'm against it on principle (because I hate ads, not because I hate Dustin. Dustin is awesome, and I want Pajiba to live forever!), and I will be clicking as much as I can today. Turning off adblocker and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Note: In Cannonball Read news, I have still &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not quite&lt;/span&gt; finished &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Revolutionary-Road-Movie-Vintage-Contemporaries/dp/0307454789/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1258549220&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;my first book&lt;/a&gt;. I'm almost there, and hopefully over this weekend I'll be able to finish it up and review it. And, soon, the semester will be over and I'll have (allegedly) more time for reading, so maybe I can catch up to y'all crazy fast readers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, time to run off to work. Don't forget to check out Paheeba Day, and click on those ads! Keep Li'l Pink edumacated and Pajiba running! And, don't forget to make lemons out of lemonade, or whatever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1794428301311437625?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1794428301311437625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1794428301311437625&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1794428301311437625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1794428301311437625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-whining-paheeba-wednesday.html' title='No Whining Paheeba Wednesday'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SwPtQWJE7lI/AAAAAAAAAF8/y3m7zpVlBN8/s72-c/Sparkle+Murdertank.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-9157249534698256637</id><published>2009-11-02T21:56:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T22:58:03.131-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='R.I.P. Beauregard'/><title type='text'>R.I.P. Beauregard, aka Best Kitty Ever.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-cR7mCAkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/UC0kzV5tin0/s1600-h/Beau001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-cR7mCAkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/UC0kzV5tin0/s320/Beau001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399706310109430338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, about 17 years ago, two small kittens weaseled their furry way into my heart. Emily and Beauregard came home with me from a local pet store's free adoption day. They quickly took over almost the entire apartment, including the rooms we didn't really want them to go in. Such is the way of adorable kittens. They act all adorable so you can't possibly be mad at them, even when they're throwing up on the rug, or in your shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months after they came home, I lost the job I was working at at the time. This, of course, meant I couldn't do the spaying/neutering thing right away, and we wound up with two litters of kittens. The first was a set of three, two of whom moved to lovely homes with fr&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-fLQC3wgI/AAAAAAAAAFk/uHWCQ8aKybI/s1600-h/Beau003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-fLQC3wgI/AAAAAAAAAFk/uHWCQ8aKybI/s320/Beau003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399709493874901506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;iends (one became a Natasha, and the other a Tigger), while the third stayed here as my brother's cat. He couldn't come up with a name for her, so we wound up calling her Poofie until he came up with a name (which was Leia, and by that time, she was pretty used to Poofie, so Poofie it still is). Somehow, when my brother moved to Florida, Poofie managed to stay behind, though. The next set had three originally, but one died a few weeks later, poor little thing. The other two went to live with my mom, and were called Butterscotch and Hopscotch. Anyway, I had a new job by this point, and as soon as I was able I got them both fixed. No more kittens for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, Emily, my little multi-colored tabby, was known as Mama. Beaureagard, meanwhile, due to his doofy, dog-like nature, was called Bo. A big old classic orange tabby, Bo is possibly the second sweetest cat I ever knew, without being needy. He'd run u&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-gpRC2W1I/AAAAAAAAAFs/DS8bZe_K9UI/s1600-h/Beau002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-gpRC2W1I/AAAAAAAAAFs/DS8bZe_K9UI/s320/Beau002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399711109050948434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;p to anybody, flicking his tail back and forth, greeting friends and strangers alike. Everybody loved Bo kitty. He'd just kind of hang out, often wandering under the dining room table, petting himself on whatever feet were available. Like I said, not needy. Give him your foot, he'd do all the work. Not the smartest cat in the world, but one of the friendliest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He loved to be outdoors. We have a decent-sized yard, but the best feature of it is the strip of woods that it backs up to. Directly behind the house is our driveway, and on the other side of it, the woodsy part goes kind of straight up-ish; beyond that is the highway and the off ramp. We like to walk up there sometimes and sit on the rocks looking out over the highway and the rest of the mountain on the other side. One day we were sitting up there and all of a sudden we hear a little "meow". He'd been outside wandering around, and found us hangin&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-g0hAYT8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/a0VFg5cRxkE/s1600-h/Beau+kitty002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-g0hAYT8I/AAAAAAAAAF0/a0VFg5cRxkE/s320/Beau+kitty002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399711302314119106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;g out up there. After that, he'd always come sit with us whenever we climbed up there. Even when he was just sitting in the yard, he was happy. I'd look out the kitchen window sometimes and see him sitting out there, little round orange face turned up to the sun, eyes mostly closed, just breathing the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny, though, that even though he loved to be outside, he never really chased any animals. Oh, a few times he brought us some baby moles, or a baby bird or bunny. He only went after the babies. He was nearly as lazy as I am. He was terrified of the blue jays, and they knew. They'd start yelling at him form their perches up in the trees, and he'd come running for the door. Once, we were sitting out in the backyard on one of those glider chair things, and he was sleeping on the picnic table. A couple of squirrels came wandering into the yard, as we were sitting pretty quietly. He saw them and kind of hung over the edge of the table a little, but they knew him, apparently. They ran all around that table, up underneath it and everything, and he just laid there dozing off in the sun. Oh, man, we taunted him mercilessly for that one. Not that he minded. You know, what with the not speaking English, and all. He'd just look at us with that adorable, goofy face of his, waiting for the pettings. Then we'd feel bad for laughing at him. Not bad enough to stop laughing, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In recent years, he started sleeping in the classic full-on "Garfield faceplant" formation, catloaf-style, but with his face flat on whatever surface he was on. The first couple of times we saw him do it, we laughed so hard we woke him up and startled him right out of it. It always made me nervous he couldn't breathe, although he didn't have any problems breathing. Or snoring. First snoring cat I ever had, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my special little guy today. He got real old, all of a sudden, over the last few weeks, and today he laid down for a nap he didn't wake up from. Mama seems pretty upset. Poofie, as with all things, couldn't care less. Tim and I are kind of a mess. We'll all get past it, of course, but boy, are we gonna miss our big old doofy dogcat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-9157249534698256637?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/9157249534698256637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=9157249534698256637&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/9157249534698256637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/9157249534698256637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/11/rip-beauregard-aka-best-kitty-ever.html' title='R.I.P. Beauregard, aka Best Kitty Ever.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Su-cR7mCAkI/AAAAAAAAAFc/UC0kzV5tin0/s72-c/Beau001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-6589143686810415397</id><published>2009-10-21T09:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T12:58:59.193-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seriously?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sisters'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hideous doll cakes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><title type='text'>If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you?</title><content type='html'>Oh, hello, Gentle Reader. What a splendid day it is to have a No Whining Wednesday, wouldn't you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Wednesday isn't what I'm going to tell you about right now. Let me tell you about my Tuesday, in food: I started off with a healthy breakfast of oatmeal, accompanied by a delightful cup of cinnamon-hazelnut coffee. Around 11:30 or so, I started to get a bit hungry, so I had a lovely snack of cauliflower with a little bit of sour cream to dip it in. Delicious, and nutritious! Now, before I move on to the afternoon feeding frenzy, let me tell you a little something about the company I work for: they are all about employee morale. Not just in a superficial way, either; they genuinely care about their employees and want us to be happy. Now, there are kind of a lot of us, so instead of every person's birthday being celebrated with a cake &amp;amp;c., we have a "Cake Day" once a month to celebrate everyone's birthday that falls in that month. Yesterday was cake day. Now, often, everyone will get together and chip in for a birthday person's lunch on their actual birthday (or thereabouts). So, yesterday turned out to also be lunch day for &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;LK&lt;/span&gt;, who turned 40 this year. The office ordered lunch from a local deli. Now, I already had the fixin's for my daily peanut butter sandwich on wheat bread, but I said "What the heck" and ordered a half-pound of macaroni salad. Figured I'd eat a little on the side, bring it home, have the rest for a few days. Well, here's how that actually worked: I ordered it, ate a quarter pound of it along with my peanut butter sandwich, and then ate a giant slice of birthday cake along with a brownie and some cookies that &lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;DH&lt;/span&gt; bakes (oh she is such a good baker). Then, I went home from work. I was pretty tired, and I didn't feel like cooking anything, so instead I had a bowl of BooBerry cereal. That's not terribly filling, though, so I was still kinda hungry (I'm not really sure how). So, I finished off the macaroni salad. Then I&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/St81vsFiB4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/GTmzjtbiNBo/s1600-h/doll+cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/St81vsFiB4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/GTmzjtbiNBo/s320/doll+cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395089972017629058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ate a bunch of Cheetos. Unsurprisingly, I had to put on my big pants this morning. Also, I feel a little bit nauseous. I love my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other birthday-related news, this weekend is my baby sister's 30th birthday. My tiny, preemie baby sister, born at four-and-a-half pounds with a heart murmur. The wee little thing whose diapers I changed, who I fed bottles too, whose ticklish spots I discovered (her neck and her knees. She makes the cutest little giggly snort when you tickle her neck). The first time I touched her was in an incubator at the hospital, a plastic case with holes in the sides and big rubber glove things you stuck your hands in. She made it through, obvs, and she's officially a grownup now. (This also puts all four of us sibs in the same decade, agewise, at least for a year and a couple of months until I ruin it for another 8 years by turning 40.) So, we'll be having a lovely famerly BBQ on Sunday, and there will be much wine and merriment. I love my family. They're all kind of crazy, you know, but who isn't? And they're *my* kind of crazy, so they get me. My sisters are made of pure awesome. I might be a little in love with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's my week right now, and where I'm at on the happy scale. Fat and in love with my family. I think it's a pretty good way to be. It's about lunchtime now, and I'm going to the diner today with my boss. She said something about grilled cheese and soup, and that sounds just ambrosial right about now. Off I go then! Happy No Whining Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-6589143686810415397?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/6589143686810415397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=6589143686810415397&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6589143686810415397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6589143686810415397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/10/if-i-love-you-wednesday-what-is-that-to.html' title='If I love you Wednesday, What is that to you?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/St81vsFiB4I/AAAAAAAAAE0/GTmzjtbiNBo/s72-c/doll+cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-327899410920076233</id><published>2009-10-14T10:04:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T12:54:22.356-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suggestions please'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cannonball Read'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black Death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='literacy yay'/><title type='text'>Oh, it's already been broughten.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/StXoLZNHP9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pj8OgPfsYPA/s1600-h/Sick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 251px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/StXoLZNHP9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pj8OgPfsYPA/s320/Sick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392471411288129490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's post is dedicated to the very beautiful &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lainey Awesomeface Bobainey&lt;/a&gt;, who is illin' like a villain  today. Get Well Soon, SugarTits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is No Whining Wednesday again, and here I am, trying desperately not to whine. I'm midway through my third week of being stupid sick, which is angering me. But, today is the first day in those 2.5 weeks that I actually feel pretty chipper, so yay! Go me. Also, I didn't get super angry at traffic today like I have been (I'm really, REALLY cranky when I'm sick. You can imagine the joy of my coworkers), so go me again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, &lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/"&gt;Pajiba&lt;/a&gt; has announced the start of the &lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/book_reviews/cannonball-read-season-two.php"&gt;Cannonball Read II: Electric Bookaloo: In My Pants: Not Without My Library Card: Mother May I Read With Danger&lt;/a&gt; for November 1st. I'm very excited about it! So much so that I started a &lt;a href="http://beaverplatzandthecannonballread.wordpress.com/"&gt;whole separate blog&lt;/a&gt; just for my Cannonball Reviewing! The gist is this: You read a book a week for a year (or rather, 52 books in a year), and blog a 3-4 paragraph review of each one.  Books have to be at least 200 pages, and there are no graphic novels allowed (and I think no children's books? I'd better get a bit more familiar with the rules...); I know they can be fiction or non-, and short story collections have to have at least six stories. Anyway, there are lots of awesome people joining in, and it's for a good cause (a donation to the college fund of a little guy who lost his mom, a Warrior Queen, to leukemia earlier this year. Plus, literacy, yay!). Please, check it out and also feel free to join in! I've got a list of about 20 books so far, all of which have been laying about the house in various states of un-read-ness. Feel free to give me suggestions, though I won't necessarily take them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, classes are going strong still. Halfway through the semester (and I could've had three books for the Read with my Films &amp;amp; Literature class, but I think we'll be finished with the third before the Read begins, so only 2 from there. It's too bad, too, because I just finished &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Virgin-Suicides-Novel-Jeffrey-Eugenides/dp/0312428812/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1255538932&amp;amp;sr=1-1"&gt;The Virgin Suicides&lt;/a&gt;, and I have ...thoughts and feelings. Perhaps I'll blog about it anyway, as a practice review). Saw &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0165854/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Limey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for the first time in my other class the other night, still love Terrence "Badass" Stamp. Possible more now. I've got a new niece on the way (just got a text that my sister-in-law was induced, so any time now!). So far, her name is Summer Austin. She'll be joining big sisters Sumayah Angel and Savannah Anne, who are both happy that she wasn't born on their birthdays (10/8 and 10/4 respectively) so they don't have to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everything's pretty sweet, even if I am tired from the sickness, which I am NOT down with at all, by the way, thankyouverymuchDisturbed. And now, I'd better get back to work before I get fired and REALLY have something to whine about...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-327899410920076233?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/327899410920076233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=327899410920076233&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/327899410920076233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/327899410920076233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-its-already-been-broughten.html' title='Oh, it&apos;s already been broughten.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/StXoLZNHP9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/Pj8OgPfsYPA/s72-c/Sick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-3156111607614701788</id><published>2009-10-03T19:38:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:49:13.893-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Films'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='suggestions please'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tattoos'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Strictly Ballroom'/><title type='text'>Mid-weekend update: Tattoo fever!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsfhUXHgi1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/7xiNCeunP4w/s1600-h/Strictly+Ballroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsfhUXHgi1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/7xiNCeunP4w/s320/Strictly+Ballroom.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388523219091229522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. As many of you may know, I have a single tattoo. Some of you may even have seen it. Well, I'm in the market for .... well, frankly, at least 7 more. I have a number of ideas, though no clear ones. Except for this one: I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0105488/"&gt;Strictly Ballroom&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;again today, and remembered how much I'd like a tattoo of the phrase, "A life lived in fear is a life half-lived". My problems are these: I need to figure out where to put it, and if necessary, how to split the line; I need to figure out if I want it in English or as in the film ("Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias", although I'm pretty sure I'll go with English); and I need a font.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent several hours online today searching fonts, and I found a few that could work. I think my favorite thus far is &lt;a href="http://www.dafont.com/jellyka-saint-andrews-queen.font?text=A+Life+Lived+in+Fear+is+a+Life+Half+Lived"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;. It's not too fancy but not too plain, it's legible, and it's light. It looks pretty in English and in Spanish. It's very much akin to handwriting, which I like; I have considered an Edwardian script or something like it, but I'm not sure I want something that ... neat. I think I'd prefer it a little messy, a little imperfect, kind of like life. I also liked &lt;a href="http://www.dafont.com/aquiline-two.font?text=A+Life+Lived+in+Fear+is+a+Life+Half+Lived"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;, which is a bit cleaner (though still a little pitted), yet kind of old-fashioned, like something you'd find in a sailor's diary from the mid-18th century. I sort of liked &lt;a href="http://www.dafont.com/scriptina.font?text=A+Life+Lived+in+Fear+is+a+Life+Half+Lived"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;, but the more I look at it, the more it reminds me too much, I think, of those greeting cards that are supposed to be real emotions, or something. I don't know. Too Hallmark-esque, I think.  I looked at a bunch of the "Gothic" styles, but they're very heavy, and I don't think they work with the sentiment. Naturally, I've thought about using my own handwriting, but I don't know that I like it well enough to wear it forever on my body, or if it's the style that I want. I'm not particularly artistic like that. I also need to decide if I actually want to capitalize all the words (i.e. A Life Lived in Fear is a Life Half Lived), or stick with lowercase; I like the idea of capitalizing for fancier-ness, but it's not terribly realistic. On the other hand, who the hell needs "realistic" in a tattoo? And what does that even mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;As for location, oh dear. That's why it took me until I was 35 to get my first one: deciding where to put it. I wound up deciding on lower back (yeah, I know, shut up) because it's easily covered up (no, it really is; only girls that wear hooker clothes can't keep it covered, and I don't wear hooker clothes. Often). I am thinking of down my side, but closer to my armpit or closer to my hip? I am also considering my upper back, right below my neck, which would then necessitate a split. How would I split the line then? A life lived in fear/is a life half lived, or A life lived in fear is a/life half lived? I feel like it would be too ...even the first way. Unless I have the top line start a bit to the left of center and the bottom line a bit to the right. I'm not completely &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; the even way, I'm just not sure. Another option, and one I love, is the inside of my forearm, though I wear a lot of short sleeved/sleeveless items in the summer. Do I care that much? I'm not sure. If I did this, it would go from elbow to wrist, I do know that much. I could also do it on the top of my foot, somehow, though I don't know how I would work that. I could also do it in a spiral, but I think I like that idea less. I thought of doing it around my ankle, like an anklet, but I think I'm pretty "feh" on that one. Also, I don't think the handwriting-y font would work that way. It'd have to be something neater and more even. I think the font depends in part on the location, generally; like if I were to put it down my side, I'd go with the first one I linked above, while on my forearm, I think I'd be more likely to choose the second. I'd also more likely choose lowercase lettering on my forearm, but capitalization down my side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as you can see, I probably won't be getting this for a while. Clearly I'm not ready yet. I'd kind of like to make these decisions, though, so that I'm prepared should the opportunity arise for me to get it. And I'd like the opportunity to arise soon. Meanwhile, help a girl out! Thoughts? Suggestions? Ideas? Despise one, or all, of the ones I've come up with? By all means, weigh in! There are sure to be pictures once I finally do it. If that's, y'know, an incentive for ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-3156111607614701788?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/3156111607614701788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=3156111607614701788&amp;isPopup=true' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3156111607614701788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3156111607614701788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/10/mid-weekend-update-tattoo-fever.html' title='Mid-weekend update: Tattoo fever!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsfhUXHgi1I/AAAAAAAAAEU/7xiNCeunP4w/s72-c/Strictly+Ballroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2202530480115961862</id><published>2009-09-30T22:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T23:05:59.379-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='real time review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Netflix'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awefulsomely bad'/><title type='text'>I'm trying not to whine... but I'm failing!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsQSbOJuTSI/AAAAAAAAAEM/XNfJgNGlXcM/s1600-h/Megasharkvsgiantoctopus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsQSbOJuTSI/AAAAAAAAAEM/XNfJgNGlXcM/s320/Megasharkvsgiantoctopus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387451313106603298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here it is, No Whining Wednesday again, and I'm home sick in bed. For the fourth consecutive day. Some kind of gross, disgusting head cold-slash-plague that is making me cough so hard I pee a little and making me blow my nose incessantly. My poor, chapped nose. But, in the spirit of the day, the bright side: Today, I watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mega Shark Vs. Giant Octopus&lt;/span&gt; on the Netflix Instant Watch doohickey, which is possibly the greatest film ever created. (P.S. Dear friend Myysharona has an amazingly funny &lt;a href="http://thefunctionalweirdo.wordpress.com/2009/09/14/msvgo-review/"&gt;real-time review&lt;/a&gt; of it up on her blog. Read it. You won't regret it.) My favorite parts: the guy who freaks out when he sees the Mega Shark leaping at his plane just before he gets eaten is, I'm pretty sure, the same extra who is running down the stairs behind Electric Youth (I'll never be able to think of her as anything but, Sharon) and the lab coat who's yelling at her in the VERY NEXT SCENE. It's probably a bad production decision to use your actors like that. Lamas's greezy, slicked-back douchetail. The fact that "science" = what it did when I was 5, i.e. pouring colored liquids between fancy-shaped beakers and frowning at them. Oh, and the dialogue. Amazing. I can't even begin to do justice to the dialogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then tonight I got to watch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Glee&lt;/span&gt;, all the way from the beginning (I have a class on Wednesdays that generally prevents me from catching the first few minutes, but since I'm sick, I skipped out on it). Jane Lynch is freakin' awesome and should be, as I have said elsewhere and repeatedly, in EVERYTHING EVER. Bonus: I also got to catch &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So You Think You Can Dance&lt;/span&gt; for the first time in its new, exciting fall incarnation. Oh, and another bonus to the plague: I haven't worn pants for like a total of an hour over the last four days. Yay! for pantslessness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's a short one tonight, kids, because I need to go to sleep now so I can get up in the morning and see whether I can make it to work without hacking all over everybody or stay home again and watch some more awefulsomely (TM Barney Stinson) bad movies and hack my brains out in my comfy chair. I hope everyone else's 3-month anniversary of No Whining Wednesday was good, though! (P.S. I tried, &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-whining-wednesday.html"&gt;Lainey&lt;/a&gt;! I really did!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2202530480115961862?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2202530480115961862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2202530480115961862&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2202530480115961862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2202530480115961862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-trying-not-to-whine-but-im-failing.html' title='I&apos;m trying not to whine... but I&apos;m failing!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SsQSbOJuTSI/AAAAAAAAAEM/XNfJgNGlXcM/s72-c/Megasharkvsgiantoctopus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1890949065015933458</id><published>2009-09-16T09:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T13:20:39.049-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='documentary nerd'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='real time review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Netflix'/><title type='text'>No Whining Wednesday IS big... It's the pictures that got small!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SrDzGseqTeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cRQvvZo9jmk/s1600-h/no+whining.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 197px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SrDzGseqTeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cRQvvZo9jmk/s200/no+whining.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382068851052269026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0043014/maindetails"&gt;Norma Desmond&lt;/a&gt;. How I adore her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we've reached &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#search?q=%23NoWhiningWednesday"&gt;#NoWhiningWednesday &lt;/a&gt;again. (And H/T to &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lainey Bobainey&lt;/a&gt; for the symbol! Love it!) Had a bit of a rough start due to staying up far too late doing homework, so I got out of bed around a half hour late. I still would have been pretty close to on time for work, though, except for how I got in the car, looked at the gas gauge, and said, "Oh, right, I was supposed to get gas last night." Oops. Well, if being a little late for work is the worst thing that happens to me, then that's all right. (My boss, by the way, is super understanding and doesn't really care if we're late sometimes. She knows shit happens. Very down-to-earth, she is. I hope she's my boss for a good long time.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's see. This is the first full week of class, so &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Film as a Medium&lt;/span&gt; was Monday and tonight I have &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Films &amp;amp; Literature&lt;/span&gt;. I have got to use the next couple of nights to get caught up (or, better still, a little ahead) on the reading and homework! That way the rest of my free time can be spent watching movies from my Netflix queues. Oh, Netflix! The most fantastic invention of my life. This past weekend, before I got crazy busy, I watched two more movies on Instant, and one of the actual DVDs (that was &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1155056/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Love You, Man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, which I liked. I love Rudd and Segel together). But they were actual good movies, this time! I watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780622/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; again, which I love. Then I watched a documentary about Andy Goldsworthy called &lt;a href="http://www.documentaryfilms.net/Reviews/RiversAndTides/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rivers and Tides&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. If you don't know, Goldsworthy is a sculptor who works only with natural elements (i.e. sticks, rocks, leaves, ice) and makes transitory art (the film's subtitle is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Working With Time&lt;/span&gt;). His work is beautiful, as is the doc; I highly recommend it. It's a very quiet film, for the most part, just kind of following him and letting him do what he does and sometimes talk about it. Sometimes his pieces work, and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TWBSMc47bw"&gt;sometimes they don't&lt;/a&gt;.  And the film is done so well, I think it was as devastating to me as it was to him when some of them didn't. I had seen part of it (possibly on Discovery?), and was dying to see the whole thing, so yay Netflix! Hopefully they have some more of the docs about him, because he's awesome. They have an amazing selection of documentaries, which I love. Also on my queue: &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0847817/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Helvetica&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. Can you guess what that one's about? Or whether I'm a nerd? Yeah, that's what I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! I just remembered something else that made me happy *technically* yesterday, but then I thought of it and it made me happy again: My friend Sharon, who has a most &lt;a href="http://thefunctionalweirdo.wordpress.com/"&gt;awesome blog&lt;/a&gt;, wrote a most hilarious &lt;a href="http://thefunctionalweirdo.wordpress.com/2009/09/14/msvgo-review/"&gt;real-time review&lt;/a&gt; of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus&lt;/span&gt;. I now need to see this more than ever, and guess what? Netflix to the rescue! Netflix makes the whole world better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I had decided to take a personal day on Friday to take my car in for her 15-month/18.5k mile physical. It's great because the reason I took Friday is that I have an engagement party to go to Saturday at 3 p.m., and I didn't know how long it was going to take. As it turns out, that's not going to take long at all, so I have a day off! So very exciting. Plus, again with the awesome boss: I asked her Monday, and she said "Sure!" and then I started to explain why, and she said, "It doesn't matter. You have the time, take it!" Did I mention awesome? Also, one of the gifts the engaged couple registered for : &lt;a href="http://www.bedbathandbeyond.com/product.asp?order_num=-1&amp;amp;SKU=16001929"&gt;A Jolly Roger doormat&lt;/a&gt;. Can you guess who they're getting that from? (Also the chip-'n'-dip server, because every time I go over there, we're eating chips out of the bag, and my fingers get greasy. Ulterior motives in every gift I give, people.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I suppose I should go eat my lunch (co-worker is sharing her vegetable barley soup with me, on the day somebody brought in many fine breads! Bread and soup are so very lovely together). Yum! I hope everybody has a great No Whining Wednesday. See you next week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1890949065015933458?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1890949065015933458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1890949065015933458&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1890949065015933458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1890949065015933458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/09/no-whining-wednesday-is-big-its.html' title='No Whining Wednesday IS big... It&apos;s the pictures that got small!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SrDzGseqTeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/cRQvvZo9jmk/s72-c/no+whining.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1586915888113755022</id><published>2009-09-09T09:32:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:02:26.919-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Netflix'/><title type='text'>Wednesday. Has there ever been a greater day? (Probably. Just go with it.)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SqfDLmBnWoI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZIY8NlZr2cs/s1600-h/apocalypse_now_ver3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SqfDLmBnWoI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZIY8NlZr2cs/s200/apocalypse_now_ver3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379482883870644866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Whining Wednesday again! I did not write a post last week, which apparently led some people to believe that I was tied up in someone's basement (aw, thanks for being concerned, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;gp&lt;/span&gt;, sugar!) or possibly causing havoc and mayhem, but I was not. I just didn't get around to it. But here I am, posting away, ready for another edition of No Whining Wednesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is the first night of my second class for the semester, &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Film as a Medium&lt;/span&gt;. It sounds essentially the same as &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;Intro to Cinema&lt;/span&gt;, which I already took, but hey... who doesn't want to have an easy class that I already know everything for? Besides, I can always use a refresher, what with my holey old brain, and ... well, it's a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;film class&lt;/span&gt;, for crying out loud! Delightful. Can't wait to get a gander at the syllabus. I hope there's not as much group work as the other class has, though I'll make the best of it. It's what I do. The other class, by the way, began last Wednesday. Seems like it'll be a good time (other than the group work, which is always kind of iffy, but there's a few girls I chatted with that seem to have heads on their shoulders, relatively speaking). Anyhoodle, &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;Films and Literature&lt;/span&gt; is going to be a comparison of interpretation, if I was paying attention. So we'll be reading 5 books and comparing them to the movie versions thereof, looking closely at how interpretation affects the story. We're starting with &lt;a href="http://books.google.com/books?id=2aErCzGr0wgC&amp;amp;dq=heart+of+darkness&amp;amp;printsec=frontcover&amp;amp;source=bl&amp;amp;ots=uwe8najaWT&amp;amp;sig=lpY9YNmaBPgch_nuICvhkVm9HZo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;ei=k8GnSs2JHZC7lAfJltGLBw&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=book_result&amp;amp;ct=result&amp;amp;resnum=3#v=onepage&amp;amp;q=&amp;amp;f=false"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Heart of Darkness&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/a&gt;/&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078788/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Apocalypse Now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, which is good because I've already read the story and seen... well, some of the movie. I've had it on DVD for years, but it's one of those things I have to be in a particular mood for, so I haven't actually watched the whole thing. I do love the story, though. So, yay for classes! I love school. Have I mentioned I'm kind of a dork?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My only sadness about classes is that since they're on Mondays and Wednesdays, I'm going to miss some of my &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460649/"&gt;favorite&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/So_You_Think_You_Can_Dance_%28U.S._TV_series%29"&gt;programs&lt;/a&gt;! But, that's why God invented the Internet. Or Al Gore. Or whoever. And DVR, which I don't have, but my sister does, and we watch many of the same programs (or at least, the ones I'm sad I'll be missing). So yay! for sisters with DVR who don't mind me coming over to watch &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1327801/"&gt;m'stories&lt;/a&gt; with them!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else, what else... Oh! I finally joined the rest of the world in 1997 and signed up with Netflix on Sunday. Between Sunday night and Monday, I managed to get around 40 movies on my queue, and probably total a dozen and a half on my Instant queue. I watched five of the Instant ones. Good grief, this is going to be bad for me... I may never leave my TV again! Especially now that I figured out how to use the Xbox to watch them on the good TV! Also, I made myself a little Xbox character person. (Mr. Pseudo-Husband said she looks like Tina Fey. Which I could see, if Tina Fey was quite a bit chunkier.) Anyway, I can finally catch up on all these movies I've been wanting to say, but hate going to the video store for! Hooray! Netflix is, like, the most amazing invention ever. Seriously. Printing press my ass. Also, this is going to make for some fun posts if I keep watching movies like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Powder Blue&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shrooms&lt;/span&gt;, which, naturally, I will. That's just who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose I ought to get to work. Silly work, they expect me to work for the paycheck they're giving me! I guess I can't really blame them there. I hope everyone's Wednesday is Wonderful and doesn't inspire any Whining!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1586915888113755022?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1586915888113755022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1586915888113755022&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1586915888113755022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1586915888113755022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/09/wednesday-has-there-ever-been-greater.html' title='Wednesday. Has there ever been a greater day? (Probably. Just go with it.)'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SqfDLmBnWoI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZIY8NlZr2cs/s72-c/apocalypse_now_ver3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1187658406656892084</id><published>2009-08-26T15:11:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T16:02:16.266-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Films'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Group Virtual Movie Date Night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Showgirls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Wednesday, Wednesday! Can't trust that day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SpWOBnWaWEI/AAAAAAAAAD0/_vOgGY8RNV8/s1600-h/showgirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SpWOBnWaWEI/AAAAAAAAAD0/_vOgGY8RNV8/s320/showgirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374357888730552386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...sorry. I started thinking, "Wednesday, Wednesday" and that song just popped into my head, even though it makes no sense. There is nothing untrustworthy about Wednesday. I guess that's why the song is actually called "Monday, Monday"... Monday is a far less trustworthy day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here I am on No Whining Wednesday, sitting on my bum at home doing NOTHING. That's right, nothing. I'm on vacation, you see! Which, by the way, makes it much easier not to whine. Right now, I'm about to put some &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Alias&lt;/span&gt; season 1 in the DVD (hey, Evil Initiative Maggie from s4 &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Buffy&lt;/span&gt; is in this episode! And, really? There's a 'prophecy' story arc?) while I do some much needed organizing in the living room. Then, I'll mosey on into town and get meself a delicious lunch of Crab Rangoon. Then, it's on to tonight's Group Virtual Movie Date Night: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Showgirls &lt;/span&gt;Edition! This movie contains some of the finest acting ever committed to celluloid, not to mention the sexiest sex scene ever filmed (the phrase "epileptic shark" has been used). And some of these people have never even seen it! I cannot even imagine my life without it. I'm so excited to share it with more poor, unfortunate &lt;strike&gt;suckers&lt;/strike&gt; unbelievers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elsewhere in =me= news, it turns out I got an A in that Anthro class. I can only assume the Professor curved the grades, because going by the numbers, I most definitely had a B. How much of a school nerd am I that it completely made me high to see that A show up in the final grades? Like, seriously, ridiculously happy. Like texting my friends, doing a little dance around the living room happy. Oh, and that reminds me: I got all the books I need for one of my classes (Films &amp;amp; Literature; the books are The Virgin Suicides, Ragtime, Revolutionary Road, and The Color Purple (I already have Heart of Darkness)), and I am going to swing by the school tomorrow to pick up the one for my other class (Film as a Medium). I'm also ridiculously happy to be taking some film classes. I haven't taken one in ages (and I'm pretty sure I mentioned this a couple of weeks ago, but like I said, ridiculously happy). Yay for vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, what?! James Bond is in this show?! Amy Irving, QT... EVERYBODY is in this show! Awesomesauce! Hooray for &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/#search?q=%23NoWhiningWednesday"&gt;#NoWhiningWednesday&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1187658406656892084?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1187658406656892084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1187658406656892084&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1187658406656892084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1187658406656892084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/wednesday-wednesday-cant-trust-that-day.html' title='Wednesday, Wednesday! Can&apos;t trust that day!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SpWOBnWaWEI/AAAAAAAAAD0/_vOgGY8RNV8/s72-c/showgirls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1242892460781730528</id><published>2009-08-20T09:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T13:42:28.203-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Day Late and a Dollar Short'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Well, well, Wednesday we meet... Wait, what? It's Thursday?</title><content type='html'>Well, see, here's the thing. Yesterday picked a bad day to be no whining Wednesday. First of all, I'm completely cranky from the summer heat. I loathe this part of summer. I despise sweating when I get out of the shower, as I'm trying to dress. I hate coming home from work and having no energy to do anything that needs doing, and having to find some eating option that requires no cooking yet is real food, not chips and candy. I dislike having to breathe processed, air-conditioned air all the time. I especially dislike the nights it doesn't cool off enough to sleep. This has been that week of the summer, so I'm a total whiny-cranky-bitchy basket case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then I learned something disheartening: I'm probably getting a B in the class I took over the summer. Now, I know what you're thinking, because I've heard it all before: "So? That's great! Why is this disheartening?" But here's the thing: I've had a 4.0 GPA since I started school. I &lt;i&gt;like&lt;/i&gt; that I have a 4.0 GPA. It's better for applying for scholarships, for one thing, and for another, well, frankly, it's satisfying to see my hard work rewarded, and it’s nice to brag a bit. I was a terrible, terrible student in high school (and apparently also in grade school, I found out recently when my mom moved and handed me a folder with every single report card from kindergarten on up through senior year of HS (oh, moms)), largely because I didn't care. I hated being there and didn't give a crap about the work. Now, I care. I want to do well, and I have busted my ass sometimes and I have done well.  Not only that, but this was a first-year-level Anthropology class. Who doesn't get an A in a first-year-level class? It's like a high school class, for crying out loud! Worse, there goes my average, because once you lose a 4.0, you can never get it back, ever. Even if I get As for the rest of my college career, I can never get higher than 3.999[...] ever again. It really knocked me for a loop. I realize it seems silly, but it has to do with the personal pride I take in the quality of my work as a student. If only I had taken a physical class. I think I do so well in all my classes in part because of the participation. I mean, let’s face it, I have a sparkling personality, and that doesn’t come across so well in discussion postings that are on a message board. There’s a name, but other than that, you’re just some words on a screen, thoroughly independent of who you are as a whole person, or a whole student. (Ugh. See? Whiny.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  So, as you can *clearly* see, I had a difficult time not whining (and I really tried to look at it positively, e.g. it's probably better this way; now there's not so much pressure about the grade and I can concentrate on the learning; but the thing is, I *was* concentrating on the learning, and the only pressure I had was that I put on myself to always do well).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, something amazing happened. I went home from work and put on the A.C., got into my jammies, ate half a leftover turkey and provolone sandwich, poured myself a glass of wine, grabbed my box of &lt;a href="http://www.candywarehouse.com/bottlecaps.html"&gt;Bottle Caps&lt;/a&gt;, and sat down to a virtual movie date with a group of rambunctious, crazy, wonderful people. My day immediately improved for the better by about 98%. See, &lt;a href="http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/07/wednesday-again-already.html"&gt;a couple of weeks ago&lt;/a&gt;, my friend &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lainey Bobainey&lt;/a&gt; and I sat down in front of our televisions a couple of states apart and chatted while we both watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Galaxy Quest&lt;/span&gt;. A virtual date, if you will. We had such a wonderful time of it, we decided that we should do it again. Well, we did do it again, last night, only we were joined by the aforementioned group, which included &lt;a href="http://echoesofechoes.wordpress.com/"&gt;Lizzie Borden&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://figgylicious.blogspot.com/"&gt;Figgy&lt;/a&gt;, Snuggiepants the Deathbringer, &lt;a href="http://www.anglesearoad.com/"&gt;Sarina&lt;/a&gt;, DoranAdmin, jim of the lower case, JustBill, Branded, &lt;a href="http://windowsdownvolumeup.blogspot.com/"&gt;jM&lt;/a&gt;, Melody, replica, and a Giant Panda (as well as others I'm sure I'm forgetting and sorry! to those I am). Oh, how I laughed and laughed. This time, we watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0116287/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and amazingly awesome 1996 movie starring Marky Mark and Reese Witherspoon, joined by Amy Brenneman as Helpful Stepmom, Alyssa Milano as the best Best Friend ever, and  William Peterson as Concerned Dad. Oh, yeah, and Dude Friend (who, as it turns out, was also in the equally amazing Lifetime Television For Women Original Movie &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mother May I Sleep With Danger&lt;/span&gt;, which might explain why he seemed familiar). If you haven't seen it, by the way, I HIGHLY recommend you do. It's just.... well, it's flat out amazing. Amazing that it didn't completely destroy the careers of those involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thanks to those nutty nutjobs and our shared loving of mocking terrible movies to pieces (probably that glass of wine didn't hurt, either), I managed to regain a terrific mood, and I've got a plan to at least try to get that grade up before he submits them for the semester (it involves crying and also possibly selling my soul). In spite of the fact that I did a terrible job of not whining (which, by the way, I felt so guilty about... thanks for that, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lainey&lt;/span&gt;), the day ended up with me really happy and looking at my problem with an eye toward fixing it, rather than wallowing in it. No Whining Wednesday was saved! Thanks, guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1242892460781730528?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1242892460781730528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1242892460781730528&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1242892460781730528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1242892460781730528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/well-well-wednesday-we-meet-wait-what.html' title='Well, well, Wednesday we meet... Wait, what? It&apos;s Thursday?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-717665807726452227</id><published>2009-08-16T15:45:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T15:59:59.811-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Films'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='80s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='real time review'/><title type='text'>Maggots, Michael. You're eating maggots.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SohiCP4AIUI/AAAAAAAAADs/cKhQK0he0oQ/s1600-h/Lost-Boys-Poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 213px; float: left; height: 320px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370650346399998274" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SohiCP4AIUI/AAAAAAAAADs/cKhQK0he0oQ/s320/Lost-Boys-Poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the hormone-addled summer of my sixteenth year, a movie was released tickled my funny bone as much as it did my naughty bits. It had music that spoke to me, and hot boys, and vampires, and hot vampire boys. That movie was &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093437/"&gt;The Lost Boys.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I was re-watching this old gem and thought it was ripe for a real-time review. In case you're unfamiliar with the concept, it kind of works like an MST3k-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; (and if you don't know what that is, I don't think I want you reading my blog. Get out.). And so, I re-watched it (again) and recorded my thoughts as it unfolded before me. (*disclaimer: I may or may not have been drinking wine as I was recording my thoughts, so if at any point I appear to be drunk, it's probably because I am. For the same reason, times are kind of approximate-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;. Also, I've never done this sort of thing before.) Also: Just in case you have somehow managed to miss this movie in the intervening 22 years, here is your &lt;strong&gt;SPOILER WARNING&lt;/strong&gt;. Though, I mean, really, do you need it? If you do, I reiterate: Get out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film opens with a bird's- (bat's- ? Birds don't see very well at night, so probably it's a bat. Plus, vampire movie) eye view of a flight over water. I don't know what that means, but it's repeated several times throughout the film, so I'm sure it's very deeply symbolic. The bat swoops down to the boardwalk, checking out all these people who are all working some seriously fantastic 80s hair. He doesn't get stuck in it, amazingly, and flies on over to the carousel, where we see our vampire gang (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mmmm&lt;/span&gt;, young &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt;) for the first time. They get confronted by a poor, doomed security guard, who's only thinking of the children. Anyway, shortly thereafter, he bites it walking to his car in the parking lot. *&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;That'll&lt;/span&gt;* teach him. Then, magic! it's daytime, with another over-water flight view. Which is kind of funny, really, because the central family is moving from Arizona to California. And they're driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4:05 - Lucy Emerson (Dianne &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wiest&lt;/span&gt;) and sons Michael (Jason Patric) and Sam (Corey &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Haim&lt;/span&gt;) are driving down down the road, and pass a billboard for Santa Carla, their new home. On the back, someone has spray-painted: "Vampire capital of the world". That sure doesn't bode well, huh? Also, what is with all the damn vampires living in the state known as 'Sunny California'? Also also, Echo and the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bunnymen&lt;/span&gt; cover of "People Are Strange".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:20 - Uh oh! Mexicans!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:40 - Uh oh! Hippies! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6:10 - Ooh, Michael has a sweet hog. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;That'll&lt;/span&gt; come in handy later if, say, he wants to join a vampire gang and impress them with his mad motorcycling &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;skillz&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7:45 - Sam: "You know what it means when there's no TV? No *M*TV." Aw, remember when MTV was relevant?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8:30 - "&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ruuuuuules&lt;/span&gt;! We got some &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ruuules&lt;/span&gt; around here." Good old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt;. Sam and Michael are awfully touchy &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;feely&lt;/span&gt; for brothers here, by the way. Not that I'm complaining, I'm just observing, is all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9:50 - "Hot" oiled-up sax guy, performing on the boardwalk. Michael, meanwhile, is trying (and failing) to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;eyefuck&lt;/span&gt; Star.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12:00 - As it turns out, Lucy Emerson is the patron saint of children who can't find their mommies (or *lost boys*... huh? Huh?) Max (Edward Hermann, whom I always seem to confuse with Fred Gwynne) has to stop flirting her up to yell at the vampire gang, with help from Thorn the dog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13:40 - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, I have to just mention the ankle-length, striped &amp;amp; shoulder-padded jacket Sam is wearing. It is HOT. (Seriously, it's probably 100% polyester. He must be sweating his ass off. It's like a bathrobe.) The &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Coreys&lt;/span&gt; finally meet, and exchange comic book &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;geekness&lt;/span&gt;. Sam gets a copy of "Vampires Everywhere". Then the Frog brothers have to chase off the hoodlums stealing comics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16:10 - Michael &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;eyefucks&lt;/span&gt; Star some more, until she hops on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_19" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer's&lt;/span&gt; hog and takes off. Sam says, "She stiffed ya," while the subtitles say, "She sifted ya." Don't they have proofreaders for that? I'm pretty sure I could do that job. Call me, Warner Bros.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16:30 - The hoods who stole the comic books are sitting in a car reading them, in the same parking lot where the security guard at the beginning bit it. These people are, like, 40 years old. Are they really stealing *comic books* from the boardwalk? To sit in the car and read them? Well, anyway, they stole, and that certainly can't go unpunished, so they get eaten. After the roof of their car gets ripped off like a sardine can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18:50 - Sam is back at the comics store. He gets handed "Destroy All Vampires", and re-iterates his dislike of horror comics. The Frog brother that isn't a Corey says, "Our number's on the back. Pray you never need to call us." Sam says, "I'll pray ... I never need to call you." Aw, remember when the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_20" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Coreys&lt;/span&gt; weren't drug-addicted &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_21" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;douchebags&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20:30 - Uh oh! Star offers to "pierce" Michael's "ear". &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_22" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; doesn't like that! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_23" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; challenges Michael to a motorcycle duel. Also, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_24" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mmmm&lt;/span&gt; hot dark-haired vampire dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26:05 - There really is a poster of a semi-clad Rob Lowe on Sam's closet door. Huh. I wonder if he put it there, or if &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_25" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt; did? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26:45 - And we come to the big moment: "Maggots, Michael. You're eating maggots. How do they taste?" Oh, vampires and their glamours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28:19 - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_26" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so here's where &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_27" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; looks exactly - no, EXACTLY - like a guy I dated right around the time this movie came out. The blond hair, the blue eyes, the shape of his nose and mouth, the jaw/cheek/jowl combo... I'm not even kidding. It kind of weirds me out a little. Not in a bad way, dudes were hot; it's just an odd reminiscence. Anyway, now they're drinking the wine, and it's all hot, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_28" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_29" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;eyefucking&lt;/span&gt; Michael, who's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_30" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;slo&lt;/span&gt;-mo licking his lips, and the rest of them are all running around the cave in their tight pants chanting "Michael! Michael!" except for &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_31" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; who's kind of whispering it all sexy. *phew* That scene is hot, man. Hot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;31:35 - And here's where Michael tries to impress his new man-crush &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_32" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; by joining in the dangerous reindeer games with the gang. "You're one of us, Michael." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;36:58 - Uh-oh! Headlights! Terrifying! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;38:00 - And Sam is taking a bubble bath. How old is this kid supposed to be? I mean, I'm assuming he's at least 15, right? What self-respecting 15 year old kid takes bubble baths and sings "I ain't got a man" in falsetto?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;39:10 - Thank goodness Nanook the dog was there, or Michael would've eaten his own brother! And, oh no! Mike's reflection is getting pretty transparent there... "My own brother's a god-damn, shit sucking vampire!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;42:30 - I hate it when I wake up on the ceiling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;45:50 - *gasp* that's Laddie on the back of that milk carton! ...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_33" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;aaand&lt;/span&gt; Sam is now getting into bed with his mom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;48:30 - Meanwhile, back at the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_35" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;batcave&lt;/span&gt;: "What's happening to me, Star?" "Oh, Michael! I can't tell you! So I'll make out with y&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_36" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ou&lt;/span&gt; instead!" "Well, it's the 80s, so I can't actually make out with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_37" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt;, so I guess I'll make out with you instead. Close enough!" (Some of that may have been subtext. I'm very good at picking up on that.) Also, I'd just like to note that this scene is way less hot than the one when Michael first drinks the blood/wine and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_38" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; is being all sexy. Why *is* that? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ooh, another over-water flight scene! Symbolism!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;53:00 - Mom and Sam go to Max's place with an apologetic bottle of wine. Chased away by Thorn the vampire dog familiar! Since Sam's been reading the comic book The Hounds of Hell, he knows all about this. He and the Frog brothers chat and determine that Max must be the head vampire. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;54:45 - Michael's getting ready to go out with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_39" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; again. I love it when characters in films put out candles with their fingers like it's an awesome power of some kind. I mean, I can do that, for crying out loud. It takes away a little of the "cool factor".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;55:30 - Oh, no... Michael's invited Max in! This may or may not be foreshadowing. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_40" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt; watches from the shadows. He's keeping an eye on things. Oh, and th&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_41" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt; shoulder pads on Lucy and Max right now? Joan Collins on Dynasty levels of huge. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_42" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aaaand&lt;/span&gt;.. they share the most awkward hello kiss ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;57:20 - Nice. The old garlic/&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_43" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;parmesan&lt;/span&gt; bait &amp;amp; switch maneuver. Practically foolproof. Way to go, *&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_44" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Coreys&lt;/span&gt;*. It doesn't work, and Max has a reflection, so he must not be the head vampire after all. It must be David!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:00:30 - OK, so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_45" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; and the gang take Michael out to some weird woodsy area where a bunch of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_46" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;mowhawked&lt;/span&gt; punks are having a bonfire and listening to ...&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_47" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aerosmith&lt;/span&gt;? Really? I mean, I was there (the 80s), and I'm fairly certain that punks weren't listening to top-40 pop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:01:25 - *gasp* again! The gang's brought out their vampire faces. Michael has to eat an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_48" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aerosmith&lt;/span&gt;-listening punk if he wants to survive. Really, he doesn't seem to understand he's doing the world a favor...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;More over-water flying! It really has to mean something! ...Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:02:55 - Another classic: "Now you know what we are, and now you know what you are. You'll never grow old, and you'll never die, but you must feed." *group evil laugh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:05:35 - Star comes to see Michael and tell him all about how sorry she is, etc. etc. Also, you're not really a full-on vampire until you eat somebody, so Mike's like Star and Laddie - only 1/2 vamp. He was supposed to be her first meal! Michael feels all betrayed 'cause of how Star knew what was going on and wouldn't tell him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:07:35 - Sam's called the Frog Brothers, and they all stole &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_49" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa's&lt;/span&gt; car to go to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_50" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;batcave&lt;/span&gt;. Sam and Michael have a sweet and adorable brotherly bonding moment wherein Sam tells Mike, "I'll protect you!" If only we, the audience, didn't know that Sam's kind of a weenie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:10:10 - Sam &amp;amp; the Frogs find the vamps hanging from the ceiling of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_51" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;batcave&lt;/span&gt;, and they stake Bill S. Preston, Esquire! Now &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_52" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; is furious and comes after them! Action scene! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_53" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; grabs Sam's ankle as they are escaping! The Frogs pull him further out of the cave into the sunlight, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_54" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer's&lt;/span&gt; hand bursts instantly into flames! I guess Michael and Star and Laddie, whom he's taken from the cave and thrown in the car, don't burst into flame 'cause they're only 1/2-vamps. You'd think they'd at least smolder a little, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:13:20 - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_55" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa's&lt;/span&gt; mad about them not replacing the gas in the car. Not that they stole it and drove it like ass, or the fact that they're carrying some 1/2 vampires into the house, just that they didn't fill the tank. Oh, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_56" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampas&lt;/span&gt; and their misplaced priorities!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:16:45 - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_57" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ack&lt;/span&gt;! Vampire feet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:18:10 - &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_58" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Feldman&lt;/span&gt;, to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_59" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Haim&lt;/span&gt; and Other Frog: "I think I should warn you all, when a vampire bites it, it's never a pretty sight." Does he think they don't remember that from when they staked that vampire, like, ten minutes ago? Also, wouldn't his vampire hunting brother already know that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:19:30 - Way to go, Sam and Mike. Leave the poor dog outside, then trip and fall as you're running to get back in the house as the vampires descend. Nice work. Bright couple of fellas, there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:20:38 - And it's a good thing they did rescue the dog, however idiotic they were about it, because it turns out Nanook's better at killing vampires than the rest of them. Especially the Frog brothers, who scream like a pair of little girls when "the one that looks like Twisted Sister" comes after them. Only the dog has the fortitude and intelligence to push him into the bathtub full of holy water that's right behind him. Big question about this scene: How does this cause all of the plumbing in the *entire house* to start spewing blood like some kind of bodily fluid geyser? I mean, the kitchen sink just keeps going and going!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:21:58 - Oh no! Hot Vampire has Sam &amp;amp; Mike's out cold! *phew* but Sam has his water pistol full of holy water! He gets Hot Vampire in the face, then grabs his bow and arrow! But, oh no! "You missed, sucker!" "Only once!" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_60" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bam&lt;/span&gt;! Hot Vampire is staked with the arrow and pinned to the home stereo right behind him, so he gets electrocuted to boot! Sparks flying everywhere! (What's that, you say? If he was staked with a wooden arrow, which would be what's needed to kill him, then he wouldn't be getting electrocuted because wood doesn't conduct electricity? Pshaw!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:23:44 - Sam finds the Frogs and they exchange high fives and terrorist fist jabs with their tales of victory ("We're awesome monster &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_61" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bashers&lt;/span&gt;!" "The meanest!"), but wait! Turns out Laddie isn't 1/2 vampire, he's full on after all! (What's that, you say? Then the part where Michael carried him to the car and he didn't burst into flames doesn't make any sense? Pshaw!) And now the Frog Brothers are terrified of a small child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:24:50 - Midair vamp fight! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_62" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer&lt;/span&gt; and Michael face off in the living room. "Stop fighting me, Michael. I don't want to kill you! I just want to make sweet, sweet love to you in the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_63" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Batcave&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_64" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;D'Amour&lt;/span&gt;!" (Again, that last part *may* have been subtext.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:26:00 - Oh! And &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_65" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kiefer's&lt;/span&gt; impaled on some antlers, which kills his vampire ass, so I guess maybe that arrow &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_66" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; been metal after all. I guess as long as something pointy goes through them, they're dead. But wait, what's this? David's dead, but Mike's still a vamp? So who's the head vampire, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:27:58 - Mom &amp;amp; Max come rushing in, all "What's going on!?" Max spots David's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_67" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;impaledness&lt;/span&gt;, and... &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_68" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oooooohhhh&lt;/span&gt;. So it was Max after all. "Don't ever *invite* a vampire into your house, you silly boy. It renders you powerless." Turns out he really wanted to turn Mom &amp;amp; the boys so they could have their very own "bloodsucking Brady Bunch" (TM Edgar Frog). "But I still want you, Lucy!" At this point, Max does this Gene Simmons tongue thing, which is disturbing on a number of levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:30:50 - But wait! What's that noise? It's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_69" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt; to the rescue! Driving his truck into his own house and impaling Max with ...the logs that are, for some reason, stacked on the hood of it. And Michael and Star and Laddie are back to normal, and everyone gets to live happily ever after! Well, except for all those people that died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1:32:40 - Best closing scene ever: &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_70" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt;: "One thing about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_71" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;livin&lt;/span&gt;' in Santa Carla I never could stomach... all the damn vampires." What-what?! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_72" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grampa&lt;/span&gt; knew all along! And the fridge light goes out on the totally shocked faces of Mom, Michael and Sam.And then the closing strains of the Echo &amp;amp; the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_73" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bunnymen&lt;/span&gt; cover of "People Are Strange", once again. Full circle, people. Full. Circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, there you go. My first attempt at a real-time review, which is, I guess, technically speaking, my first attempt at any kind of review not for a class. I hope you have as good a time reading it as I did writing it; I hope it brought back some fun memories for you, or if you haven't seen it, I hope you hie yourself down to the local &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_74" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;vidya&lt;/span&gt; store and pick it up post haste. Everyone needs to see this movie at least once, preferably in a group of drunken friends. Also, I hope you have the fortitude to watch the sequel at least once, because it is so, so bad, and since I've subjected myself to it, I feel the need to torture others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Signing off, and reminding you: Don't drink wine out of strangely adorned bottles in a cave full of Twisted-Sister-&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_75" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lookin&lt;/span&gt;' punks. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_76" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Beav&lt;/span&gt; out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ETA: There were spaces between all these lines when I began this, and the 4 times I went back in, remade the spaces, and saved it again. For some reason, Blogger seems to be refusing to allow formatting today. Because Blogger is occasionally a stupidface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E2TA: Hooray! It finally let me save the spaces!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Cross-posted on &lt;a href="http://annavonbeaverplatz.vox.com/library/post/maggots-michael-youre-eating-maggots.html"&gt;Vox&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-717665807726452227?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/717665807726452227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=717665807726452227&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/717665807726452227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/717665807726452227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/in-hormone-addled-summer-of-my.html' title='Maggots, Michael. You&apos;re eating maggots.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SohiCP4AIUI/AAAAAAAAADs/cKhQK0he0oQ/s72-c/Lost-Boys-Poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-6097414129598792330</id><published>2009-08-12T11:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T13:01:29.428-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meteor showers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lego porn'/><title type='text'>Wednesday's Weekly Weblog (check my mad alliteration skills, yo!)</title><content type='html'>Oh, hello, Wednesday! No Whining for me today, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the peak night of the Perseid meteor showers was apparently last night, when I thought it was tonight. No matter, there'll still be plenty of falling stars tonight (if of course the weather clears up enough). Otherwise, we'll catch the Geminids in December.Those are going to be spectacular this year, looks like... according to &lt;a href="http://www.skyandtelescope.com/observing/highlights/36787804.html"&gt;Sky &amp;amp; Telescope&lt;/a&gt;, they're scheduled at about 100/hour! Fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, there's &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhcnfadmUm0"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Hahahahahah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aw, pseudo-Mr. vB just called me because he saw I left my cellular telephone on the dining room table this morning. Since he couldn't text me that he loves me, he called me to tell me in person. Sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, short post today, but it's time for a peanut butter sandwich and carrots and some working on my paper that is due tonight, or maybe on the other paper that is due tonight (silly me, leaving them for the last minute). Yay, class is almost finished! And then there are 3 weeks until the next one starts. I can't wait for Fall, I'm taking Film as a Medium (which seems like a repeat of Intro to Cinema, but I'm okay with that) and Films and Literature. Surprisingly, it's been ages since I took a film class at all, and I am so looking forward to them. But, it's super nice to have a break for now! And one of the 3 weeks is my vacation week, which I'll be using to catch up on some pleasure reading and viewing, so double yay! Now off to the kitchen with me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-6097414129598792330?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/6097414129598792330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=6097414129598792330&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6097414129598792330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6097414129598792330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/wednesdays-weekly-weblog-check-my-mad.html' title='Wednesday&apos;s Weekly Weblog (check my mad alliteration skills, yo!)'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2939839865588705061</id><published>2009-08-07T10:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T12:49:32.014-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='R.I.P. John Hughes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Films'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenage years'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='classics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='80s'/><title type='text'>We're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all.</title><content type='html'>Wow.  &lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/trade_news/john-hughes-obituary.php"&gt;John Hughes died yesterday&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 13 years old when &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088128/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sixteen Candles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; came out. I had just moved to a new town, and a new school, and I didn't know anyone. Also, I was the weird girl. The loner kind. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ridic&lt;/span&gt;ulously shy. The one who had horror film posters all over her room instead of the hunks-du-jour. I had no friends in my new school, quite literally. I had met one girl who lived down the street from me, one time. She was a junior, with a lifetime's worth of friends, and all her classes in different sections of the building. I ran into her one time, I think, that year. I spoke to no one. Literally. Not one single person. I barely spoke at all. Instead, I immersed, and found, myself in movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088847/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Breakfast Club&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; came out in '85, I had finally managed to make a couple of friends. We bonded, in part, over movies. Horror played a large part of that, to be sure, but even larger was the part played by Hughes' oeuvre. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0090305/"&gt;Weird Science&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091042/"&gt;Ferris Bueller's Day Off&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091790/"&gt;Pretty in Pink&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;; with each new film, we discovered parts of ourselves, and things we believed in. Even now, when I watch them again, I can still feel that pain and that joy that I felt in those years. I also shared a lot of laughter with my family, on the days I could stand to be anywhere near them, of course, over &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085970/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mr. Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085995/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Vacation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Hughes gave me my life. I don't mean he gave me characters I could relate to, per se; in some ways I could, but they were still all very different from me. What he did give me, however, was the realization that I didn't have to fit a prescribed mold. I could be a little bit of the weird kid, and a little bit of the nerd, and a little bit of the punk, and still be a little bit of the prom queen. There is no reason in hell I have to live up to anyone's expectations of who I am. Not even my own. Not only that, but he gave me hope: finally, I had a sense that eventually, I would make it through all this. Above all, he made me see that although I was miserable, so was everyone else. I wasn't the only one who was having a hard time figuring out what the hell this life thing was all about. That no matter how it felt most of the time, I was not alone. That made it - no, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;makes&lt;/span&gt; it, this crazy, unpredictable, terrifying, painful, beautiful life - so much easier to bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny, when celebrities die. It seems so strange to mourn someone you'd never met. Yet, in this case, the man I've never met truly did have a profound impact on my life. &lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/trade_news/dont-you-forget-about-me-trailer.php"&gt;And I'm not the only one&lt;/a&gt;. Which is a fitting tribute, I think. To realize, once again, that I'm not alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2939839865588705061?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2939839865588705061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2939839865588705061&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2939839865588705061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2939839865588705061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/were-all-pretty-bizarre-some-of-us-are.html' title='We&apos;re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that&apos;s all.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-5598565438557076307</id><published>2009-08-05T09:30:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T10:49:53.279-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birds are awesome'/><title type='text'>Wednesday, again, already? Again?</title><content type='html'>Ahh, Wednesday. You know, some Wednesdays are harder than others to do this whole non-whining thing. But that's good, right? Challenges are good. It's good to see what we can overcome (wow, that sounds dramatic). I mean, it's good to realize that I can take charge of my reactions to things. It's not so much about being thankful for the good parts, it's learning to react gracefully to the bad parts. So, for instance, this morning, instead of wailing and gnashing my teeth about the traffic on my way to the convenience store, I could have gracefully made the decision to go a slightly different way, and just accept the holdup I had to sit through either way. Whining about it didn't change the fact that the traffic was bad, but it changed my attitude; it made me feel stressed and angry, when I could have made an effort to be calm about it, accept it, and listen to a couple of extra songs on the radio. Instead of whining that I got no sleep, I will push through the day and not snap at people, and make sure I get to bed early tonight. Instead of whining about how hot and sticky it is, I will realize that it's summer, and it's supposed to be hot and sticky, and once I get out of my air conditioned office, I will find ways to cool down, such as a delightful gin and tonic. Mmm, crisp! I will control my reactions. I will accept things gracefully. Now that's empowering!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, on the highway, I got to see two things that made me feel more cheerful: a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red-tailed_Hawk"&gt;hawk&lt;/a&gt; took off from the median right next to my car, so I could see his hawk belly and his little hawk pantaloons and his hawky face up close. Then, almost to the end of my commute, there was a &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heron"&gt;heron&lt;/a&gt; on the median of the off-ramp. Lovely, graceful things, all long and slender and white. That helps. I love birds. They're amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I suppose that since I'm at work I should finish this blogitty thing off and, I don't know, do some work. I've got a fun new spreadsheet to build (no, really, I actually do love building spreadsheets... I'm an Excel nerd) and bunches of other stuff to do before my vacation in a couple of weeks, so let's get cracking! Adieu, and happy No Whining Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-5598565438557076307?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/5598565438557076307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=5598565438557076307&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/5598565438557076307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/5598565438557076307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/08/wednesday-again-already-again.html' title='Wednesday, again, already? Again?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-7484793307708100279</id><published>2009-07-29T09:32:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T10:01:38.101-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive outlook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Galaxy Quest'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Coraline'/><title type='text'>Wednesday, again, already?</title><content type='html'>Well, well, well, my, my, my, how that time do fly. Here we are back in the No Whining Wednesday saddle again. This one is definitely going to be tougher than the last, because I am currently approaching my whiniest day of the month, if you get my drift. But, my boss called me as I was leaving the house this morning and asked me to pick her up a bagel from a specific place near me that makes the world's most awesome bagels ever, and also to get myself one and she'd buy. Good morning, cinnamon raisin bagel with butter!&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Get in my belly!&lt;/span&gt; But first, please feel free to spend a moment in my mouth, being delicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lainey Bobainey&lt;/a&gt; and I had a super-awesome-fun time on a virtual cyber date last night, watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Galaxy Quest&lt;/span&gt; while Facebook chatting. We had a lovely time, and Lainey didn't try to push her luck, if you know what I mean. She was a gentleman, but the lady version, is what I'm saying. I totally forgot how funny that movie is, and all the people that were in it! Rainn Wilson has a part, and Justin Long is in there (and all of 20 years old... Lainey commented that he looked 12). I also kind of forgot how much I love Enrico Colantoni in that. Or, rather, in everything I see him in, which I always forget until I see him again*. (Also, the woman playing Justin Long's mom was George Costanza's dead fiancee Susan on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Seinfeld&lt;/span&gt;. Random!) We can't wait to do it again. Lainey said it would be awesome to do with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fear&lt;/span&gt;, a '96 thriller with Mark Wahlberg as a deranged stalker-boyfriend to Reese Witherspoon. I have somehow managed to not see that one , so I think it's an excellent idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. It's time to get off to work now, so here's hoping Wednesday is filled with reasons to not whine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I have just discovered, looking at &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0170186/"&gt;his IMDb page&lt;/a&gt;, that he was in a Canadian TV movie called Celine, in which he played Rene Angelil, Celine Dion's much, much older husband. That is... random and strange. And apparently terrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Bonus to No Whining Wednesday: I blogged again! It's only been one week since my last blog! This is very exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-7484793307708100279?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/7484793307708100279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=7484793307708100279&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/7484793307708100279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/7484793307708100279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/07/wednesday-again-already.html' title='Wednesday, again, already?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2891640035892446755</id><published>2009-07-22T10:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T10:52:56.708-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='positive outlook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='No Whining Wednesday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>A whole day without whining? What will I do with myself?</title><content type='html'>Well, thanks to one &lt;a href="http://notlaineysmom.blogspot.com/2009/07/lainey-yap.html"&gt;Ms. Lainey Bobainey&lt;/a&gt;, today has been designated "No Whining Wednesday". The idea is, instead of spending yet another day whining about everything that's wrong with the world, today, we will find positive things to say, and be glad for what's right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my first positive thing of the day (well, besides the fact that I managed to drive to work without screaming my fool head off at everybody on the road, which, by the way, I should do more often, because it was super nice to get to work and not have a headache already): instead of griping about the project my boss came in and handed me, I am going to be glad to do that project. I have a good job, with a company that gives a crap about its employees. I have loads of time off, if I call out sick I'm not made to feel guilty with dirty looks the next day, and my co-workers are all actual nice people. That's pretty darn good, and more than a lot of people have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, the very first good thing of the day? Was this exchange between me &amp;amp; Mr. Pseudo-Husband as I was leaving for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Me: Today is going to be Positive Outlook Wednesday.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Him: Oh yeah? I've got an outlook for ya... Wednesday positively sucks.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder I love that guy. He makes me giggle. Even at 8 a.m.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2891640035892446755?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2891640035892446755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2891640035892446755&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2891640035892446755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2891640035892446755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/07/whole-day-without-whining-what-will-i.html' title='A &lt;i&gt;whole day&lt;/i&gt; without whining? What will I do with myself?'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-3148831682468862837</id><published>2009-06-01T12:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T13:17:04.608-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad movies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Has it been a month already? Hm.</title><content type='html'>Well, once again, I have not updated this here blog thingy. I blame lots of things, but in reality, it's just laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's not altogether true. I mean, I work full time, and I go to school part time, and I keep having things to do on weekends lately, so, there's that... My first summer class started last Tuesday night. Media &amp;amp; Society. It's a great class, love the prof, she's very passionate about it. That always makes for a good class. The only problem is, it goes from 8 to 10 at night, four nights a week, for four weeks. The text has 15 chapters, so last week was the easy week, with three. Here on out, there'll be four. First test is tonight, and there'll be a 10 page paper due at the end of it (though it is a super structured type of deal, so it shouldn't be too difficult). Boy, was I beat this weekend. Plus I had to babysit my niece and nephew while my sisters were moving, and oh my, do they have a lot of energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still haven't finished that real-time review of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lost Boys&lt;/span&gt;. I doubt that I will until this class is done. So that means another month will go by. But, whatev, it's fine, right? I mean, who wants to write anyway? Oh... wait.... Damn! Well, one day when I get to it. I also picked up &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Brick&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Brown Bunny&lt;/span&gt;, so maybe eventually I'll watch those and review them or something. And &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I Know Who Killed Me&lt;/span&gt;.  Starring Lindsay Lohan. Because clearly, I hate myself and want me to suffer. Repeatedly. (Although, since I already own &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Gigli, Glitter&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Showgirls&lt;/span&gt;, I guess we pretty much knew that, huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, try not to miss me too much in the meanwhile. Time to go back to work (my lunch break is almost done) and try to find some YouTube video of Sacha Baron Cohen teabagging Eminem. Because who doesn't want to see that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-3148831682468862837?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/3148831682468862837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=3148831682468862837&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3148831682468862837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3148831682468862837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/06/has-it-been-month-already-hm.html' title='Has it been a month already? Hm.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-1291179526273673216</id><published>2009-04-30T12:51:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T15:41:26.991-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='plague'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seriously?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discussion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black Death'/><title type='text'>Bubonic plague. Now THERE'S a pandemic.</title><content type='html'>Here's a paraphrase of a comment I posted on &lt;a href="http://www.pajiba.com/pajiba_love/pajiba-love-042909.php#comments"&gt;Pajiba&lt;/a&gt; this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;150 people dead in Mexico .... out of, what, 108 million? I mean, it's sad for their families and everything, but.. pandemic? Really? I don't think this counts as a pandemic. I don't even think it qualifies as an epidemic. Let's consult Merriam Webster:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;ep·i·dem·ic : affecting or tending to affect a &lt;b&gt;disproportionately large number of individuals within a population&lt;/b&gt;, community, or region at the same time&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Nope.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;pan·dem·ic :  occurring over a wide geographic area and affecting an &lt;b&gt;exceptionally high proportion of the population&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Nope. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It's less than 1% of the population. Just of Mexico. Actually, it's like one/1,000,000th of the population. Previous pandemics have killed up to 1/2 the population of a given continent (or the human population... let's see, divided by... carry the one... 2/100,000,000th of the world pop).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So, nope.&lt;/p&gt;/paraphrase&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went to the BBC news website. &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8027043.stm"&gt;Here's&lt;/a&gt; what it had to say regarding numbers in this "pandemic":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Out of 168 deaths in Mexico, only 8 are confirmed to be swine flu.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There is 1 confirmed death in the U.S.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In the rest of the world, there are a total of 157 confirmed and 13 suspected cases.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Here's the breakdown:&lt;br /&gt;U.S.-109 confirmed cases. That's cases, NOT deaths.&lt;br /&gt;New Zealand-3 confirmed, 13 suspected cases.&lt;br /&gt;Canada-19 confirmed cases.&lt;br /&gt;U.K.-8 confirmed cases.&lt;br /&gt;Spain-10 confirmed cases.&lt;br /&gt;Israel, Costa Rica-2 confirmed cases each.&lt;br /&gt;Netherlands, Switzerland, Austria, Peru-1 confirmed case each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's a total, then, of 9 confirmed deaths from swine flu, and 160 more possible deaths. Since all 170 of the instances where people have the virus have evidently been reported, one presumes that those people are seeking medical attention and are going to recover, since it's easily treatable. An international panic is happening over 9 deaths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's assume pessimistically for a moment that all 160 unconfirmed deaths in Mexico turn out to be definitely swine flu. And let's also suppose that those 170 other reported cases die as well. That's a total of 339 deaths. Now let's suppose those people have all infected 3 other people each, and those people all die. That's a total of 1,356 deaths from swine flu. Now let's look at the world population: and we'll round down to 6.7 million. Even assuming this, it's still only 2/100,000ths of the population of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, look at the definitions of epidemic and pandemic above. To me, an "exceptionally high proportion of the population" is just that... exceptionally high. Like, 25% high. But let's say, for the sake of argument, that 10% can be considered exceptionally high. That means a minimum of 670,000 people need to be infected. We've got 669,661 cases to go before we reach epidemic proportions. Can we please stop panicking about every little thing? Please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no Black Death, people (cripes, it's not even the Hong Kong flu epidemic of '68). Now &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;there's&lt;/span&gt; a pandemic for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something to make you feel better though:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SfneRuLMVFI/AAAAAAAAACk/DhFyO930l2w/s1600-h/adorable+death.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SfneRuLMVFI/AAAAAAAAACk/DhFyO930l2w/s320/adorable+death.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330536030003811410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aww! Now there's something you could die from... perhaps it should be called the Adorable Death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Cross-posted at &lt;a href="http://annavonbeaverplatz.vox.com/library/post/bubonic-plague-now-theres-a-pandemic.html"&gt;Vox&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-1291179526273673216?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/1291179526273673216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=1291179526273673216&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1291179526273673216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/1291179526273673216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/04/bubonic-plague-now-thats-pandemic.html' title='Bubonic plague. Now THERE&apos;S a pandemic.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SfneRuLMVFI/AAAAAAAAACk/DhFyO930l2w/s72-c/adorable+death.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-7284002477830197510</id><published>2009-04-10T16:20:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T17:00:33.191-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why can&apos;t I write?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Writing is the flip side of sex – it's good only when it's over.*</title><content type='html'>So what, exactly, happened to all my creative juice?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started this blog, and I've had nothing to say about anything since. I've watched lots of things, including &lt;em&gt;Buffy&lt;/em&gt; (again), the &lt;em&gt;Lost Boys&lt;/em&gt; (again, and it made me want to do a real-time review), &lt;em&gt;Let The Right One In&lt;/em&gt; (for the first time), &lt;em&gt;Showgirls&lt;/em&gt; (again, for the umpteenth time, and I really, REALLY want to do a real-time review of that, because it would be so. Much. Fun.), &lt;em&gt;Heathers&lt;/em&gt; (which I hadn't watched in a long time, and forgot how much awesome it actually contains), that animated &lt;em&gt;Wonder Woman&lt;/em&gt; origins movie, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pinocchio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (for the first time in probably 25 years), &lt;em&gt;Drop Dead Gorgeous&lt;/em&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kirstie&lt;/span&gt; Alley and Denise Richards are hilarious in that movie), started &lt;em&gt;Firefly&lt;/em&gt; again... well, you get the idea. So why is it that I have nothing to say, nothing to write?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like I never have thinks to say (ha! That was kind of a Freudian slip of sorts, but I let it stand, because it's an apt description). I often think of profound subjects to write about, of deep philosophical ideas generated by an episode of &lt;em&gt;Dollhouse &lt;/em&gt;(oh, shut it) or an umpteenth viewing of any given season of &lt;em&gt;Buffy&lt;/em&gt;. Sometimes I see things online, or advertisements, that make me crazy. This morning on my commute to work I was listening to the classical music station, and they played an advertisement for that Broadway thing, &lt;em&gt;Rock of Ages&lt;/em&gt;, in which  a review was quoted that said something like "even straight guys will like it!" and I was like, Really? Are we going there? Is that acceptable, somehow? Reinforcing that stereotype of musicals and women and gay men? I had an entire conversation with myself in the car, and I made some excellent points, none of which I can now recall to write about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself. Clearly I need a scolding. That's it! This weekend. I am doing it. I am sitting down and I am watching something - anything - and I am writing about it. I don't care how much homework I have, or how much time my family or friends want to spend with me, I am fitting it in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, I feel better now. Off to more &lt;em&gt;Firefly&lt;/em&gt;, then dinner at Sister's house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* that title is a quote I found from Hunter S. Thompson. I gotta read some of that guy's stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-7284002477830197510?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/7284002477830197510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=7284002477830197510&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/7284002477830197510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/7284002477830197510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/04/writing-is-flip-side-of-sex-its-good.html' title='Writing is the flip side of sex – it&apos;s good only when it&apos;s over.*'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-6642593791579274079</id><published>2009-03-29T22:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T23:07:25.857-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>No sleep for you! Again.</title><content type='html'>And here it is, once again, Sunday night at almost 11. I should be getting ready to go to sleep, and instead, I browse away on the interwebs, looking for deals on Venture Brothers dvds (thanks for that, &lt;a href="http://rustymiami.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rusty&lt;/a&gt;). I have a paper that is due for my class tomorrow night, and I'm browsing the Lindt website drooling over &lt;a href="http://www.lindtusa.com/category-exec/category_id/6/landing/1/nm/White_Chocolate"&gt;Stracciatella truffles &lt;/a&gt;(my current obsession, which I just discovered they have bags of at Target. Eeee! Cheap and close by!). I have one paragraph written out of two pages. I have zero desire to write the thing, and so I practice my mad procrastination skillz as it gets later, and later, and later; soon, it will be midnight, and I'll be so tired I want to cry, and the paper will still not be finished. *sigh* Perhaps, one day, I'll learn to stop doing this to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I am by the way exhausted because I did mad running this weekend: Friday night, to dinner at sis &amp;amp; b-i-l's, then to my sweet Xtine's for Dollhouse. Saturday, lots of errands and a aurprise 50th birthday party for an old and dear friend. And then todya, I volunteered at my company's fundraising event (the &lt;a href="http://www.chocolateworldexpo.com/"&gt;Chocolate World Expo&lt;/a&gt;. Boy, that was a rough gig, let me tell you... loads of vendors selling all kinds of great chocolates, samples galore, not to mention local wineries, breweries, restaurants, and candy makers. Oh, and pickles!). So, fun, but tiring; I had to get up at 7:30! On a Sunday! It's for a good cause, and worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now it's definitely 11 p.m. and I am still nowhere near finished. Damn! I'd better get crackin' if I'm gonna finish this thing and get some sleep. Good night, blogging world! Sleep tight, don't let the ... you know, I can't even finish that thought. It's gross. I don't have bedbugs, therefore there will be no biting. Only delightful dreams of chocolate, and perhaps Tamoh Penikett. Covered in said chocolate. Mmmm chocolate covered Tamoh....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-6642593791579274079?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/6642593791579274079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=6642593791579274079&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6642593791579274079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/6642593791579274079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/no-sleep-for-you-again.html' title='No sleep for you! Again.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2325368298548520508</id><published>2009-03-26T13:38:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T22:01:34.690-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='R.I.P. Alabama Pink'/><title type='text'>R.I.P. Warrior Goddess.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Scu91yYbeAI/AAAAAAAAACM/7Ry_VyeGcz0/s1600-h/black_ribbon_300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317552516795955202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Scu91yYbeAI/AAAAAAAAACM/7Ry_VyeGcz0/s320/black_ribbon_300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Scu917UWf_I/AAAAAAAAACE/iKM41b2ef8s/s1600-h/bamapus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317552519194771442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Scu917UWf_I/AAAAAAAAACE/iKM41b2ef8s/s320/bamapus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know I could cry so hard, feel so mournful, care so much over the death of &lt;a href="http://alabamapink.blogspot.com/"&gt;someone I never met&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;(Images borrowed from &lt;a href="http://notesonbarnapkins.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jeremy Feist&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://sofiaddicted.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sofia&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2325368298548520508?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2325368298548520508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2325368298548520508&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2325368298548520508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2325368298548520508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/rip-warrior-goddess.html' title='R.I.P. Warrior Goddess.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Scu91yYbeAI/AAAAAAAAACM/7Ry_VyeGcz0/s72-c/black_ribbon_300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-5280183922509332956</id><published>2009-03-18T22:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T09:00:46.319-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='discussion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ghost World'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>I can't relate to 99% of humanity.</title><content type='html'>Hey, I did a fun thing tonight.... My dear love &lt;a href="http://notesonbarnapkins.blogspot.com/2009/03/movie-week-review-3.html"&gt;Jeremy Feist &lt;/a&gt;and I did a roundtable (although really, it was more like one of those little cafe tables, with just enough room for two, and an umbrella , and a little candle in a blue glass jar, and tiny sandwiches and fancy cold soups... dammit, now I'm hungry) review of &lt;em&gt;Ghost World&lt;/em&gt;! It was a super fun time.&lt;br /&gt;I've never done it before, and I was nervous (especially coming after the one Jeremy and Sarah Larson did for &lt;em&gt;Race to Witch Mountain&lt;/em&gt;... holy crap, that was some good stuff!). But I think we did pretty good. Check it out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-5280183922509332956?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/5280183922509332956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=5280183922509332956&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/5280183922509332956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/5280183922509332956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-cant-relate-to-99-of-humanity.html' title='I can&apos;t relate to 99% of humanity.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2500205108983002850</id><published>2009-03-11T20:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T20:58:44.128-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='damn kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><title type='text'>Downsides.</title><content type='html'>So here's the downside of going to college later in life (well, I guess it's a downside no matter when you go): Kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this class on Thursdays, Media Writing. I missed it 2 weeks ago because I had a killer bellyache. I left work early and everything. Well, apparently I missed an in-class assignment: everyone paired off and interviewed each other, with a written piece due the following week. There were two other people who were out besides me; we were given the interview assignment as a triangular thing and exchanged emails so we could do the work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Sunday afternoon rolled around and I haven't heard from either of them. So, I email them both and say, "Hey, so here's my idea for the interview thing, what do you think?" I hear back from both of them, yeah, that's a great idea, not too difficult, blah blah biddy blah. Well, the girl who's interviewing me emails me last night with a bunch of questions. I reply, give pretty good full answers, some of which she can use as direct quotes and some she'll be able to paraphrase. I also email the guy I'm interviewing with a list of basic questions, with the caveat that if I need more detailed info I'll email him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here it is, Wednesday night at almost 9 pm. I have still not heard back from him, and so I have nothing to write. I emailed him again this afternoon around 3:30, trying to be polite yet urgent, that I needed to get the writing done tonight. Still nothing. I have now emailed the professor because I am going to have nothing to turn in tomorrow, and I don't want to wreck my GPA because this kid can't get back to me. Ugh. I mean, maybe he's very busy too, you know, I realize this. I'm just super frustrated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess that's what a blog is for, huh. *sigh* I guess I'll just go watch American Idol and hope I hear from him before 10. Then I at least have a shot at doing something...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2500205108983002850?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2500205108983002850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2500205108983002850&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2500205108983002850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2500205108983002850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/downsides.html' title='Downsides.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2162532987974404925</id><published>2009-03-02T10:31:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T15:38:39.101-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='why doesn&apos;t Borders have &quot;Clue&quot;'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Repo: The Genetic Opera'/><title type='text'>So much for "all the time"...</title><content type='html'>So, remember how I said, "Hey! I have a blog, and I'm going to write in it all the time, and it'll be super cool!"? Yeah. Clearly, I'm the sort of person who follows up on stuff. (Actually, I just don't know how to budget my time, and I always wind up running out of it. For everything.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I went DVD shopping a little this weekend, so I actually have something to say. I went to Borders with a coupon and a list of 4 DVDs (one of which, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ginger Snaps&lt;/span&gt;, I didn't actually expect to find, so 3, really): &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Futurama: Into the Wild Green Yonder, &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clue.&lt;/span&gt; According to the website,&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;all 3 should be available in the store I normally go to. I get in my car, and go to the store, only to discover that once again, the store availability option on the site has lied to me (about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;F&amp;amp;L &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clue&lt;/span&gt;, anyway. I got &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Futurama&lt;/span&gt;). I search and search, to no avail. Meanwhile, in my travels, I find &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Repo: The Genetic Opera&lt;/span&gt; and one of John Waters' more obscure titles,  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Female Trouble&lt;/span&gt;. (I also picked up &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Compulsion&lt;/span&gt;, the 1959 Orson Welles version of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Murder By Numbers&lt;/span&gt;, starring young Dean Stockwell; I put it in the DVD player Saturday night, but promptly fell asleep, so I can't tell you anything about it). Why in heaven's name would they have those, but not the ones I was looking for, is utterly beyond me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Sawg4VJdboI/AAAAAAAAABk/SS8yjsuc0vc/s1600-h/repo_the_genetic_opera_ASH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Sawg4VJdboI/AAAAAAAAABk/SS8yjsuc0vc/s320/repo_the_genetic_opera_ASH.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308654212884557442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyway, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Repo&lt;/span&gt;. Where do I even begin to explain why I paid money for the privilege of torturing myself with this item? Well, if you know me personally, it makes sense. (Especially if you're a certain pseudo-husband- according to him, everything I watch is like that.) I enjoy things that are unusual, offbeat, weird, and yes, sometimes terrible. It was all of those things, and a musical. I absolutely adored the visual style of the film; lovely blues and reds everywhere, super-saturation in some scenes, comic-book panels as bookends and to introduce backstory. Most of the actors were serviceable, though I was not fond of Alexa Vega for the most part. I did enjoy Paris Hilton a little, please kill me now, and I liked Sarah Brightman and Paul Sorvino and naturally I loved Anthony Stewart Head. Not all of them have mad singing skills, and perhaps in a movie where the music was written a little better, that might have been an issue. As it stands, however, the music was little more than sing-songy spoken word set to music. The plot was thin, and the dialogue thinner.   It's often difficult to translate stage plays to film (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/span&gt;, anyone?) and they generally suffer for it. Most of the deficiencies seem like they could be of that lost-in-translation type. It's too bad, because the underlying premise is interesting and could have been something really exciting in more capable hands. I won't say I'm disappointed that I spent the money (I did have that coupon, after all), and I will certainly watch it again, but it will always be with a bittersweet sigh for what could have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. As soon as I figure out how to budget my time, I'll watch Compulsion and let you know how I feel about Crazy Orson Welles as Sandra Bullock and Young Dean Stockwell as Michael Pitt. Until then, toodle-oo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2162532987974404925?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2162532987974404925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2162532987974404925&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2162532987974404925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2162532987974404925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/03/so-much-for-all-time.html' title='So much for &quot;all the time&quot;...'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Sawg4VJdboI/AAAAAAAAABk/SS8yjsuc0vc/s72-c/repo_the_genetic_opera_ASH.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-8853651978447754201</id><published>2009-02-15T22:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T22:36:57.116-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blogging'/><title type='text'>Hey! I have a blogger account!</title><content type='html'>So, I haven't actually touched this blog in almost two years. I think I still have a couple of unfinished posts hanging out, too. Well, I guess it's time to finish those, and maybe start some new ones, although I've kind &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; done that already on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Vox&lt;/span&gt;... Maybe I can use this one for my meditations on Buffy, Angel, and the rest of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Whedonverse&lt;/span&gt;. It might be nice to have those all in one place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we'll just see if I actually do anything with this, I suppose. I always have all these great intentions, but then there's that whole life thing, getting in the way of stuff. Boy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; being pessimistic about this today! That's no fun at all. Let me start again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, look! I have a Blogger blog! Awesome, I'm going to write in it all the time, and follow all my friend's blogs, and it's gonna be the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;awesomest&lt;/span&gt; thing ever! Woo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-8853651978447754201?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/8853651978447754201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=8853651978447754201&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8853651978447754201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8853651978447754201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2009/02/hey-i-have-blogger-account.html' title='Hey! I have a blogger account!'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-3586415058692843977</id><published>2007-03-18T23:13:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T21:32:13.049-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Recent and Recently Seen'/><title type='text'>That's ridiculous. I would never say that.</title><content type='html'>So over the weekend I rented &lt;em&gt;Marie Antoinette &lt;/em&gt;on DVD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309525635716575794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Sa85b0K3cjI/AAAAAAAAAB4/16LvadtI2NY/s320/Marie+Antoinette.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really, really wanted to like this movie. I liked Coppola's &lt;em&gt;Lost in Translation&lt;/em&gt;, even if I did feel it was somewhat overrated. I love Jason Schwartzman, and I love Kirsten Dunst. I'm not really sure why I love Dunst, to be honest; she's just kind of precious. She's fun, and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the problem with this film for me was that it seemed... kind of choppy. The scenes seemed a bit disconnected; like they were each a little individual vignette or a day in the life, and they had no real place in the movie. Except that every scene was like that. I don't know if it was the directing, or the writing, or the editing, or maybe some combination thereof; I remember reading somewhere (perhaps in a criticism) that perhaps that was Coppola's intent with the film, a purposeful choice to make clear the disconnect that Marie had with the world around her. I do know that it kept taking me out of the film, and that's almost never the intent of anyone involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked Schwartzman, playing the young King as exactly that... a very young, nervous man who would rather be hunting with his friends (the 18th century version of skateboarding?)&lt;br /&gt;I don't intend to say that I didn't enjoy &lt;em&gt;Marie Antoinette&lt;/em&gt;. On the contrary, I did. The costuming is gorgeous, the cinematography stunning. I know there is a great deal of debate on the subject of the use of contemporary music in period films, but I enjoyed that too. It was done well here.&lt;br /&gt;I also understand there is much consternation over the inaccuracy of the historical information. I certainly make no claim to be any kind of scholar where history is concerned, so I can't really say one way or the other. I do know that filmmakers pretty much always take some 'artistic liberties' with a story such as this. Every film pretty much automatically bears the viewpoint of its writers, directors, and editors (not to mention actors, among other crew).&lt;br /&gt;I had the same difficulty with Terence Malick's &lt;em&gt;The New World&lt;/em&gt;. Another gorgeous film, but very choppy and odd in its editing. That, however, is a topic for a different post.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-3586415058692843977?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/3586415058692843977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=3586415058692843977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3586415058692843977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/3586415058692843977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2007/03/thats-ridiculous-i-would-never-say-that.html' title='That&apos;s ridiculous. I would never say that.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/Sa85b0K3cjI/AAAAAAAAAB4/16LvadtI2NY/s72-c/Marie+Antoinette.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-8453761334585661777</id><published>2007-02-26T21:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T14:01:37.017-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Favorite Films'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Texas Chainsaw Massacre'/><title type='text'>My family's always been in meat.</title><content type='html'>I have decided to start a blog to practice writing about films. My college major is cinema studies, and my interest lies in the theoretical and the critical areas thereof. I enjoy writing about films, but have no real experience at it, so I thought perhaps it was time to start. Especially since accounting...? Is just not working out for me. I mean, I'm pretty good at it, don't get me wrong; it's just that I hate it with a fiery passion. So, here's my film blog. I was going to start out with my top five films of all time, but since those change with alarming frequency, I think it will be easier to stick to a one-film-at-a-time format.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/ReOei7wC8WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HjEa9-AaJc8/s1600-h/texas2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5036043131322298722" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/ReOei7wC8WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HjEa9-AaJc8/s320/texas2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And so I begin with &lt;em&gt;The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,&lt;/em&gt; one of the finest pieces of filmmaking ever released. Sure, you can call it a slasher flick, or you can look at it as simply a cheesy horror movie, but really, it is a &lt;strong&gt;film&lt;/strong&gt;. It is the &lt;em&gt;Citizen Kane&lt;/em&gt; of its genre. This film terrified people to the point of protesting screenings of it. This is a film that 33 years after its release is still scaring people. In all honesty, it should be considered a classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why, one might ask? Why should this mere horror movie be considered a classic film, right up there with &lt;em&gt;Casablanca?&lt;/em&gt; Well, no matter how one feels about the horror film in general, one cannot deny that it has set a gold standard for the genre. Nobody has looked at a chainsaw the same way since 1974. That's saying something, isn't it? A common power tool, in the hands of a disenfranchised agricultural worker, becomes a symbol of rage and terror. This is the narrative P.O.V; it is made clear that the horrifying cannibal family are former slaughterhouse workers who are no longer needed, as new, more efficient (mechanical) methods of slaughtering cattle have been created. There simply is no more need for human beings to physically kill the cattle. And where does this leave the family? They are the last in line of generations of abbatoirists before them; it is the only work they've ever known, the only skill they possess. What are they to do now? How are they to survive? And what, indeed, will become of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the sheer brutality... (which, contrary to popular opinion, is almost entirely off screen... most of what the viewer sees is a suggestion of violence {but what a suggestion!}) ... many people had forgotten that human beings were capable of such violence, until stories started to come back from Vietnam. The tales of the atrocities committed there had no representation in reality for many people until they saw this film. They were abstract ideas, things that most people had never seen and would likely never see. And while film violence is arguably on a completely different level than that of actual violence, since most people's limited "experience" with violence is filmic experience, and up to that point that exposure had been neat and sanitary (a punch thrown, almost visibly not connecting, accompanied by clearly fake slapping sounds; or in the case of war films, death looking immediate, painless, and blood-free), &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;TCM&lt;/span&gt; brought home these abstract concepts in such a way that people could no longer ignore the fact that war is messy and ugly and painful and intense. This is a hard truth for many to face, especially after getting caught up in all the patriotism of going to war; one reason why it was so widely denounced, though in reality not a manifest function of the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also set the horror standard of the final female... that one lone girl that gets away in the end. Or does she, really? Sally, while she physically escapes, will never be psychologically the same; traumatized to the core, how will she survive? She'll likely be incapable of caring for herself, of leaving her house, of holding a job; so the viewer is subtly introduced to the idea that societally speaking, technological advances are maybe not such a good thing. Everybody loses; from the lower class family who loses their livelihood, to the upper middle class kids who wind up dead or unable to function and in either case are incapable of contributing to society in a meaningful way. Subsequent final females meet similar fates: Alice in &lt;em&gt;Friday the 13th&lt;/em&gt;, who winds up in a coma from the trauma; Nancy (&lt;em&gt;Nightmare on Elm Street) &lt;/em&gt;seems fine and dandy in the end but we soon discover that she will never truly escape Freddy's grasp, in numerous sequels. Even more recently, there have been the series of &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Final Destination&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;I Know What You Did Last Summer&lt;/span&gt; films (in addition to many others, too numerous to mention) with a more modern sensibility, but which still come down to that last girl, surviving what none of her friends did. Unfortunately, that more modern sensibility does not extend to the empowerment of women; they are treated just as mysoginistically as ever, having gained their independence but lost their souls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Tobe Hooper's common horror film changed a great many things in movie making and viewing, and reflected significant changes in societal structure and understanding. This is why it's a classic; this is why it deserves recognition as such, and not just at fan conventions or in horror circles, but in mainstream cinema as well. Just because a film is made inexpensively, and is filled with fake blood and guts and bones and men in masks made from human skin, doesn't mean it doesn't have something important to say. Actually, that man in the human mask has something particularly relevant to say: he could be any member of American society, putting on the face that others determine he should wear. Or trying to disguise himself as his victims, residents of the upper middle class, something he'll never be, no matter what he does or how hard he works; something many members of the middle- and lower-classes can relate to. The lesson, then, is don't judge a film by its pictures and words, but by what they mean, what they symbolize, and the power they have to speak to people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-8453761334585661777?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/8453761334585661777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=8453761334585661777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8453761334585661777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/8453761334585661777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-familys-always-been-in-meat.html' title='My family&apos;s always been in meat.'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/ReOei7wC8WI/AAAAAAAAAAM/HjEa9-AaJc8/s72-c/texas2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8071731929403680295.post-2888603545675523495</id><published>2007-02-25T22:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T23:43:10.332-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blog? What&apos;s a blog?'/><title type='text'>My First Time</title><content type='html'>Wow, so this is my blog now. I've never had a blog before. I'm a little nervous... And also, I don't have much to say just now. My friend Christine decided that I should start a blog and write movie reviews, because I enjoy that sort of thing, and it sounds like fun. But I have nothing right now, I just kind of wanted to start one up and try it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will say that I'm currently watching the Oscars, and I'm shocked that &lt;em&gt;Pan's Labyrinth&lt;/em&gt; didn't take the Best Foreign Language Film award, as it was the favorite by a long shot. Not that I've seen it, to be honest; I've been trying to go for weeks but just haven't found the time. Nor have I seen the German film that actually won. Or any of the others nominated in the category... These aren't the sort of thing that one's local BlockBuster Video store tends to stock. Maybe I should start a video store as well as a blog...  I'm just surprised because it seemed like such a shoe-in. It still has three other noms, though, and it took two already, so hopefully it'll still be at the theater next weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess I'll come back some other time when I actually have something to say... Although I will say, be sure to visit my friend Christine's blog, Little Green Kitchen (in my links list). She's a good cook, and a good friend to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nighty night!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8071731929403680295-2888603545675523495?l=sugarbabies47.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/feeds/2888603545675523495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8071731929403680295&amp;postID=2888603545675523495&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2888603545675523495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8071731929403680295/posts/default/2888603545675523495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sugarbabies47.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-first-time.html' title='My First Time'/><author><name>Anna von Beaverplatz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00767645998031679957</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Am_vcQqEnmM/SuMaFcUdECI/AAAAAAAAAE8/gvN9tqqANzs/S220/edited+me.bmp'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
