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Die Hard.

Bruce Willis saves Christmas, wins back his wife, and takes out Alan Rickman in one action packed, crack-tastic film featuring the theme of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony as the motif of the terrorists-who-aren't-terrorists? What isn't there to enjoy about this rousing holiday romp complete with bombs, machine guns, badly copped Southern accents, and German theieves who can't understand German and just won't effing die?

I love this terrible, bloody film and all its Roy Rogers-referencing glory. Not to mention that beyond the stellar cast, so much of the popular culture of the last two decades has been influenced by it. Once you've seen Die Hard, so many more things in your life begin to make sense. It's the best Christmas film ever, seriously.

Ho ho ho. Now I have a machine gun.
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My 3.8 is safe. 

Happy Christmas! 
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Today I am a Slytherin princess.  Boo-yah.

Happy Halloween!
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I am going to be a Slytherin student for Halloween.  :) 


Sep. 19th, 2008 05:10 pm
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I am so dressing up to go to dinner.  Yaaarrr, is that me first mate eaten thee goodies, yaaarrr?  Cake! 

My pirate may have a tic.  :)

Oh, and how cute was Shortpacked for today? 
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Read it.  :)  Let's all jump on the liberating, gender equalizing band wagon.


Jul. 27th, 2008 06:17 pm
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I find myself quite excited about this remake.  In lieu of it, I rediscovered an old article which always gives me the giggles.



Jul. 25th, 2008 01:16 pm
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I've determined that the new Batman films are sadly lacking in strong female leads.

You'd think that an ADA who was helping to put away hundreds of vicious criminals every year would know a little self-defense...that girl easily could have disarmed the Joker, removed an ear or two (or another such body part) and rammed his nasal cartilage up into his brain, effectively killing him and/or maiming him for life.  Especially considering that the only two things he had going for himself at that moment were his insanity and a pocket knife.  *phbbbt*  

But if she'd done what any intelligent woman would have done, then there would have been no need for the Batman to burst in and save the day/risk everyone's lives unnecessarily.  Hmm.  What a dilemma. 

I really am quite upset about this.  Stupid bint deserved to get blown up, if she can't even defend herself minimally.  Maggie, I expected a stronger character from you, not a recap of Katie's dismal performance. 


May. 17th, 2008 12:33 am
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 A little bit of joy before I go... love to you all!!!!

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 I got straight As...for the first time since elementary school.

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I got an A- in Music Theory, Form and Analysis!  

I know it's a minus, but...it's my first A in Theory- ever!  YAY.  I totally called my dad at his work to tell him.  

He said we can celebrate tomorrow, when I go home. 

SO HAPPY.   Nothing can get me down now, not even having to clean and pack.
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...through The Feminine Mystique.  It's not really drudgery, it's more like every chapter I read makes me so angry that I have to take a long break before reading another.

I have a bone to pick with the fashion and beauty industries.  Stop referring to women who look like sticks as having the "perfect" body.  It is not the "all around, everyone needs to look like this and if you don't, well, you're a slob" figure.  Don't even call it a healthy body.  Just call it what it is- a slim, thin, skinny, or stick-like figure.  Heidi Klum is beautiful, but her body is far from "perfect."  As is mine.  Oh, gee, look at that, we're both humans with imperfect bodies.  What a surprise.  My "perfect" body will never look like Heidi's.  But it will be healthy.  Does that make me a slob, if I can't ever squeeze into a size six?  NO.  It doesn't.  

So ladies, do yourselves a favor.  The next time you or someone else is admiring a celebrity's body as "perfect", correct them.  Say, "No, it isn't perfect.  It's just thin."

Get it right, America.  And stop fooling yourselves that perfection lies in what you look like.  Perfection is undefinable because human beings will never achieve it.  How do you like them apples?

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...and the stress is making me ill.

Some funnies to make us all feel better: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZb4AnGcLFw  and  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no0WqYWdH74   !!!


P.S. Am going to Germany this summer to sing! Yay!

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Hey, all.  This is one of my favorite songs ever.  It's simple, sweet and desperately nostalgic, in more ways than one.  Take a breather and enjoy. <3

Love to all.

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Here, as promised, is my sister's Peace Corps blog of her time in Mauritania, West Africa.  I thought everyone knew where she was, but I was sooo wrong. :)  So here she is!


Also, to let you all know, I reserved a room at Nekocon in Hampton Roads.  That's going to be November 7-9 this year.  Anyone interested in joining me?  Please say yes!  The hotel is about thirty dollars cheaper than Katsucon, as is registration a tad bit cheaper.  It's a smaller con, but still a lot of fun.  I went a few years ago and really enjoyed myself.  Let me know if ANY of you want to come with, otherwise I will have to cancel the reservation.  You've got a few months to decide, however.  :)

Again, here is the link to that new R-MWC page I told you all about.  It's pretty awesome; I highly recommend giving it a look-see.  

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All I have to say is this:

What a slap in the face to women everywhere that a first term senator who hasn't even served his full term yet is doing better than a woman with ten times his amount of experience, who has been for women's rights and education around the globe ever since I've read about her.  

What the fuck is wrong with everyone?  I'm so disappointed in my country and my sex right now.

And by the way, WHY would you EVER want to vote a man like Huckabee into office?  Isn't that just like voting Bush back in, except this time a more blatantly fundamentalist version of him?  Honest to god, people.  If you can't see what kind of a problem that presents, I don't know what the fuck I'm still doing here.

And yeah, a vote against Hilary is a vote against women, you scared, chauvinist bastards.  And before you go getting all angry and defending yourselves, MEN, think about this: why is it that over half the men in this election (including Obama) didn't declare until Hilary did?  I mean, it was like, "Wait a minute...a woman just declared she was running for president!  That can't be right.  If a bloody woman can do it, well, so can I!  Can't let them infiltrate the highest position in America, can we?"

Also, if I see Obama win and ask Hilary to be his running mate (although really, I don't expect that much from him, he is a MAN after all) I will be sick.  And possibly move to any of the fifty other nations in the world that have already had female world leaders.  Let's talk about Pakistan, for instance.  WTF, America?  Pakistan can elect a woman; a country where even if the women vote, it's a ridiculously low percentage, and you can't?  WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

And don't feed me that bullshit about oh, she's not the right candidate, blah blah blah.  It's about fucking time you ALL pulled your heads out of your asses and realize that just because I get to wear shorts and don't have to cover my head all the time and can have a career and babies if I want doesn't mean that we've achieved gender equality in this country.  Think about it, fellas.  When was the last time you asked your girlfriend or wife where something in the house was like, say, the butter?

If you can't answer that question or don't know what I'm talking about, then shame on you.  If you're going to even pretend we have gender equality, then you can  at least read the feminist materials and ideologies.

Yeah, that's right.  And guess what you'd discover?  Feminism does NOT equal 'women are superior to men,' it equals 'women are men's equals.'

So stop bloody whining.  It's not attractive anymore.  Know what else?  A real man knows where the butter is without asking.  And where his socks are, because guess what?  He helps do the laundry.  And a real woman doesn't just get married out of college because she can and she's in love and wants a man to take care of her.  A real woman pursues her hopes and dreams, no matter how scary they are.

And that includes voting the first woman president into office.  So until you can pull your heads from your asses, FUCK OFF, America.  You're so full of shit I don't even want to talk to you right now.  I don't even know why I bother.  You'll just sit back in your desk chairs while you read this and say, but there's nothing wrong with voting my conscience or my morals.  It's my right to vote for whomever I want.

Tell that to your immigrant grandmothers who worked fucking hard to put your family's name on the map.

Oh, wait.  you're all so fucked up that you have to go back farther than one generation to find an immigrant in your families, some of you.  You've been born with silver spoons in your mouths and moralistic ideas in your heads.  Too bad those things won't help you make the right decision.  No, you recoil from Hilary like she's a snake.

She's not.  She's a brilliant, articulate woman who DESERVES this office more than any other woman.  And before you start to say, oh, she stayed with that bastard cheating husband, how can she be a strong woman, DO YOU THINK IT DIDN'T TAKE BALLS TO STAY WITH HIM?

Notwithstanding, it was the CHRISTIAN thing to do?  SO REALLY, what is the huge problem?  

If you aren't voting for her, why not?  And how will you live with yourself?

And fuck you, Democrats.  You really could've made history this year. 
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 I cannot begin to describe the anger I feel everytime I look at the name on a President's letter from Randolph College.  What's the matter, couldn't find any women who wanted to be associated with the school?  


I still say they go under in ten years or less.
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It has occured to me, while consuming massive amounts of Harry Potter fanfiction over the last three weeks, that I once knew a Draco Malfoy.  

His name was Rane, because I was living in Alabama at the time, a place where all children who are born into wealth and privilage are given either Biblical or ridiculously overthought, fashionable monikers.    I can't recall his last name at the moment, but I'm sure it was something like MacMillan, or Macintyre, or Macgyver.   You know, one of those old country names because only people from the old country still have money in the South.  

I can't remember how our mutual hatred began, exactly, but it may have had something to do with him being a wealthy, white, arrogant jerk whose family had been in the area for generations and I was a poor military brat.  Not that we were starving, white trash poor, but I'm sure my father's ranking wouldn't have meant much to him.  

Public high school in Alabama was the typical clique country that is so often depicted on Lifetime TV in movies about teenage girls who have enough and kill the popular cheerleaders.  I never killed any cheerleaders, lo how I may have wished to.  My friends and I were as guilty as the Preps of irrational dislike and unfair bias.  That isn't to say there weren't any Preps who actually liked us, they were just few and far between.  Also, they were relatively lower on the totem pole of Preps.  The ones up high, Parkinsin, Malfoy, Crabbe, they were the ones who went out of their way to tease you; they called you names and made fun of your work and just when you thought they were handing you a compliment, they'd pull the rug out from under you.  Bam.  Straight on your ass.

Our first month into my freshman year of high school, my only year of high school in Alabama, Rane gave me a nickname.  It stuck.  Whenever he saw me, he'd call me that.  I don't know if he thought he was being funny in a nice way, but I hated it.  He knew I hated it.  He called me it anyway.  Every now and then one of his minions would call me it as well, but they rarely spoke to me.   Sometimes they even called me by my real name.  

Not Rane.  

Eventually, a month or two from the end of school, he started to get tired of it.  That's what I attributed it to, anyway, because he stopped calling me it as often.  He started to use it mostly when it was just him around me and my friends.  Passing in an empty hallway, leaving an empty classroom.  Then, one day, a miracle happened.

I entered a little clay tinket box I'd made into our school's art show.  It won third place.  When our art class went through to view the exhibits, I saw Rane hovering over the table my piece was on.  He was helping to monitor the exhibits, apparently.   As I walked past the table and saw my box with its little prize tag, he stopped right across from me.  

"Congratulations," he said.

I stopped and looked at him.  I didn't know what to say.  I wasn't good with accepting compliments back then.  It made me awkward and overly modest.  

He must've thought I didn't know what he was talking about, because he gestured to the box and said, "On your box, you won a place.  It's really nice."

I think I may have scoffed, because he would've continued.  Instead, I said something that I've always felt a little bit bad about.  A few weeks earlier my friends had given me an idea of what I should say the next time he was being snide.   Partly because I'd been so hurt over the course of the year and partly because I wanted to just test it out and see what would happen, I used the idea.

Giving him a withering look, I said, "I love you too, Rane."

He was confused and hurt.  He really had just been trying to compliment me.  He returned my sarcasm with a dismissive, "Whatever, I was just trying to give you a compliment, Retainer."

When people ask me my most embarrasing story about high school, that one always comes to mind.  How I said one wrong thing my first month and was forever known by the humilitating nickname Retainer.  I think I could've broken the cycle if I'd just accepted his compliment, but instead I had to get him back, had to be just as mean and nasty and not accept his apology in the form of a compliment.  Rane was just a scrawny, stupid boy.  By the same token, I was just a plump, geeky girl.   I wish now I could've been kind to him at least once and accpeted his offering of peace.  On the other hand, I was kind plenty of times and quietly took his bullying.  Was I wrong?  Was I right?  I wish I knew.  

When we moved to Alaska, there were Preps and Geeks and all sorts of groupings, but somehow I was able to transcend them.  I may have had my own group, but everyone knew me and I knew plenty of them.  There wasn't the same sense of horrible rivalries and pairings and bullying that I grew up with in the Alabama system.  Or maybe it was that I changed.  Either way, I never knew another Draco Malfoy.  

Where are you, Draco?  Are you okay?  Are you happy?  I hope so.   Wherever you are, take care of yourself.  Blessings.

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So funny.  This is for all my music loving friends.  Which is, well, most of you. :D


Oct. 6th, 2007 07:21 pm
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I signed up for nano again this year.  After my semi-success of last year I really wanted to give it another go.  (By semi-success I mean that I won, but the novel wasn't actually finished.)  This year I think I have a plot that might actually be finished in 50,000 words.  I'm finally going to tackle my favorite novel style of all time: the gothic romantic suspense.  No, not a bodice ripper.  For those of you familiar with Victoria Holt and/or Barbara Michaels, we're talking the woman running across the moors in the dark of night from the haunted ancestral home of the husband she married after a two week courtship while wearing naught but a flowing nightgown never knowing that the haunting is actually a ruse of the neighboring estate's crazed lady of the house who had always hoped to marry said husband.  Add an illegitimate child or two, a governess, nursemaid, kind country doctor/cousin/uncle, old village wise man/woman, a mysterious death and horses and yo've got yourself a self-writing spooky yet romantic plot line complete with monastic ruins and a dark, brooding forest.  :)

I've always wanted to attempt a full out Holt novel.  I've started plots many times before, but this gives me an excuse to really attempt one and stick with it.  Yes, I'm crazy.  I have a term paper and an opera performance this semester and I don't know if I'll manage.  But, it's worth a try. :)  CRAZY.  Eheh. :)

Love!  Everyone, don't forget to sign up!  Especially my writing talented friends... <3
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