Cristen navštívila Prahu!

NOTE: This should have been posted about a week and a half ago, but I went on my 8-day trip to Moravia, Slovakia and Austria and didn't get the chance. Also, Blogger is such a pain in the ass for some reason about uploading pictures, so I only managed to get one in here.

Cristen came to visit me this past weekend all the way from Brussels, Belgium! It was an awesome weekend. We hit my favorite clubs – Futurum and Cross Club – as well as much of the sightseeing attractions that I’ve neglected so far. Living here, it’s very easy to become complacent with all the interesting things surrounding me.

Saturday we originally planned to go see the castle…but that was shot down when we didn’t wake up until noon. Instead we wandered around the city, walked across the Charles Bridge and along the river and then back to Staré Mesto. We ate lunch at Kavarna Slavia, which is a café where the intellectual/artist types of Prague used to hang out (it’s right across from the National Theater). Now it’s a huge, busy tourist restaurant with little selection and poor service. I wasn’t a fan.

After lunch we met up with Brandon and walked around the Jewish quarter (Josefov) a bit. Josefov is kind of strange – there are basically a half-dozen synagogues amidst the most expensive shops in Prague. We didn’t actually go into the synagogues, because in order to do so you must buy a ticket that costs around $25; we were there too late to be able to see all of them, anyway. Then we had dinner at Pizzeria Grosseto, an Italian restaurant near my house whose normally delicious pizza was not up to standard for some reason that night.

Sunday was a much more successful day. We got up “early“ (aka at 10 am) and hopped on the tram to go see Prague Castle. First we went through the Royal Gardens, which were very nice. There’s a small area where they keep some birds of prey, and it was sad to see the birds sitting on little posts with cords around their legs so they couldn’t fly away. Then we went to St. Vitus Cathedral. It was the most touristy cathedral I’ve seen – they actually had numbered signs up at different parts of the nave so that you could read about it in your guide, and there was a woman waving people past the tomb of St. Vitus because they took too long standing around taking pictures.

After St. Vitus we walked to the Senate Gardens, which were also pretty cool with big hedges and a lot of interesting statues. There was also the Grotto, which is a fake dripstone wall with creepy monster faces, snakes, and other animals hidden in it.

Our final stop was Petrin Hill. We took the funicular up to the top of the hill, which has an awesome view of the city. There we went to the Mirror Maze, which was built for an exhibition back in the beginning of the 20th century. It was fun to walk through but a little short…until we came to the room with wiggly mirrors. Brandon was exactly the right height so that his head looked HUMONGOUS while the rest of him was midget-sized. It was, quite frankly, amazing.

But the apex of Cristen’s visit was definitely the Black Light Theater show we saw Sunday night. I can’t really describe it as anything other than a 90-minute-long what-the-fuck moment. There was an alien swallowed up by swiss cheese. There were flying geometric shapes. There were birds, and Egyptians with tin cookie sheets, and a butterfly, and pillowcase creatures that bit one another. I still can’t decide if I’m glad I went or not. The only thing I’m certain of in life now is that I am VERY glad I wasn’t high when I saw that. Holy shit.

Anyway, we went to bed around 11…and woke up at 4 am so Cristen could take a taxi to the airport for her 7 am flight. I was very sad to see her go. So sad that one might call me a saaaaaaad octopus.

I'm confused by my internship. I went to the studio last Tuesday, alone, and put together an album. It was boring, but at least I had my iPod. So Monday I text my boss to ask if I should come in this Tuesday. She said no, maybe Thursday, but she'd let me know. I said okay, I can't Thursday 'cause of classes, Wednesday or Friday would be okay though.

So I get a voicemail around 9:30 Tuesday asking if I could come in to do some stuff, if not, that's okay. I said I couldn't. I had a test that night I needed to study for, and the studio is too far away for me to get there by 11 if I just woke up at 9:30; if I'm going, I usually wake up at 8:30 and get on the shuttle by 9:45.

Then Wednesday morning I get a text asking if I'm coming in. This is after receiving no word from her all the rest of Tuesday. I said no, I didn't know I was expected, but Friday still works. She sent back "I'm here now." So I said sorry, but I need to know at least the night before when I'm going to come in.

So WTF! I can't be "on-call" for this. I don't live close enough. I'm perfectly willing to come in on the days I'm available if I'm given notice at least the night before. I don't see how that's difficult, it wasn't before.

Man hits hermaphrodite deer, declares it "tasty"

Saw this on AOL News and deemed it too good to fade away into non-existence.


"Richard Lisko holds out a small extra leg located halfway up one of the back legs of a deer he hit with his truck Nov. 22."


"'It's a pretty weird deer,' he said, describing the extra legs as resembling 'crab pinchers.'"


"Lisko said the deer had male and female sex organs. 'And by the way, I did eat it,' he said. 'It was tasty.'"

Good to know that there's still real men out there like Richard Lisko who aren't afraid to throw their roadkill on the grill and check out its sex organs while they're at it.

my very own 2006 in review

Oscar nominations came out the otherday, and sadly this year I realized I've barely seen any of the nominees. This (and the fact that I was suffering a 24-hour stomach flu) led me to look at what movies I did go see this year, and compare them to what I saw over the last few years (thanks to the wonder that is this site.) In 2006 I saw (in theaters) a paltry 21 movies, compared to 26 in 2005 and 32 in 2004. Of course, in 2004 I was still living in Lansdale, where the top 3 things to do on a Friday night are go to the movies, go to the mall, or snort cocaine. And because I am not cool, I never snorted cocaine. Anyway, even though we're totally past the "2006 in Review" thing by now, I'm not.

Movies I Saw with an 8-Year-Old
Cars - Boring. I get that I'm not exactly their target audience, but what happened to that "adults will like it too!" magic I keep hearing about?
Barnyard - Disturbing. This had a little too much of that "adults will like it too!" thing, only minus the "like it" part.

Movies I Got Drunk To on DVD
She's the Man
John Tucker Must Die

Movies I Wish I Got Drunk To on DVD, But Instead Paid $10 To Watch Sober
Friends With Money - otherwise known as "Jennifer Aniston Must Die"
The Illusionist - otherwise known as "Jessica Biel Did Die, But Not Really"

The Blockbusters That Sucked
X-Men 3: The Last Stand - My first X-Men movie, and probably my last.
The Da Vinci Code - The book sucked balls, so I don't know why I bothered spending money on the movie version. I just wanted to FIT IN! Sob.

The Blockbusters That Didn't Suck, But Still Failed to Reach Expectations
Mission: Impossible 3 - Unlike Renee Zellweger and Reese Witherspoon, Tom Cruise somehow escapes my wrath when he's onscreen and not on Oprah's couch. But the whole chest-pounding heart-restart bit at the end...come ON, JJ, do you think NO ONE in this audience has ever seen "Lost"?
Superman Returns - Brandon Routh is PERFECT looking. I have a hard time believing he's made of skin and bone, and not CGI. But I can't really root for a couple when one-half is as retarded as Lois Lane, and I can't really hate a villain as retarded as Lex Luthor. Nice try, though.

The Blockbuster That Actually Deserved To Be
Casino Royale - Guns! Poker! Poisoned martinis! Daniel Craig is a pretty sweet James Bond, and despite a sub-par Bond Girl and a drawn-out ending, "Casino Royale" was the only big hit of 2006 that really should have been.

The So-So Attempts at Political Commentary
V for Vendetta - This was too long ago for me to remember much beyond Natalie Portman, a guy in a mask and an oddly-placed disco ball. I guess it had something to do with fascism.
Thank You for Smoking - I like Aaron Eckhart a lot, but overall the movie wasn't quite as sharp or funny as I was expecting. I did love the "Trio of Death" or whatever they called themselves.

The Chick Flicks
The Devil Wears Prada - Surprisingly good, especially since I tried to read the book and gave up after 2 pages of tedium. But honestly, it would have been crap without Meryl.
Marie Antoinette - Not quite a chick flick, but I'll put it here because it stars Kirsten Dunst and has lots of pretty dresses and shoes. Nowhere near "Lost in Translation" or "The Virgin Suicides", but it wasn't terrible.

The Movies that Nobody Else Saw
Wordplay - Documentary about crossword geeks. Sweet, but like the crossword geeks themselves, somewhat dull.
The Notorious Bettie Page - This was decent, but I didn't feel that Bettie's sudden turn to Jesus at the end was particularly insightful.
Hollywoodland - I really, really liked this one. It had some faults, but the acting was good and overall it was very atmospheric. Ben Affleck did a really nice job here. Somebody give him a job.
Snakes on a Plane - Syke! Okay, other people saw it. But comparatively it was a giant flop. A HILARIOUS flop! - in the context of opening night, when there were a decent amount of people there. If you saw it after the first weekend or, worse, on DVD, I'm willing to accept whatever your opinion may be.

The Funny Ones
Borat - I saw it with my Jewish roommate and her dad. Niiiiiice.
Little Miss Sunshine - Abigail Breslin's dance at the end: A. Ma. Zing. The rest is kind of lackluster upon repeated viewings.

The Kick-ass Crime Movies That Were Seriously the Best All Year
The Departed - This movie explodes with awesome. If "Babel", aka "Crash 2: International", conquers it at the Oscars...well actually I won't be surprised. Phony American "liberalism" beats out intense crime thriller any day.
Brick - Also exploding with awesome, "Brick" sets up a bunch of suburban kids who live with their moms at the center of a dangerous drug ring and murder mystery. So, so fucking cool.

And so you have it. All 21 movies, plus 2 on DVD that I threw in just so I could use the "Wish I was Drunk" title. Money and time well spent? You decide!

there's a title in here somewhere

The other day I sent in a cover letter and resume for an internship at a photography/design studio. Now I have an interview next Tuesday. And I have to bring "my portfolio."

!!! I don't have a portfolio. I have a giant stack of prints, most of which have dust specks that I never bothered to spot-tone. (I don't think the ink I bought at the photo store months ago even matched my stuff correctly.) Now I have to choose at least 10 of my "best," which does not leave me with much to choose from, and try not to seem retarded when they interview me. Which is something I tend to have issues with.

Aw crap.

FUCK YOU, IPOD!

On the ONE DAY that I actually get the motivation to go run around the park, my iPod decides that not only does it not have any power in it, it never wants to have any in it ever again.

here's my secret.

I used to really like PostSecret. What a cool idea: Random people from all over the country make a neat little postcard with their deepest, darkest secret on it, and then it gets posted on the Internet. (Which I guess is something that would only be considered "cool" in an age where people who do shit like this are named "Person of the Year" by Time Magazine. WTF??)

But now I just think it's kind of self-indulgent. Another way to anonymously whine about your miserable life, in a place where you KNOW thousands of people are going to see it. Here's one from this past Sunday's posting:



Come on. Not only is this SAME EXACT secret posted every single week, it describes at least 90% of the general population (and probably 100% of the population that actually reads PostSecret.) I also love the ones that say, "I thought sending my secret to you would make me feel better.




It didn't."

It just reeks of italicized 14-year-old MySpace angst. Love. It.

In other news, the new Harry Potter book has a title. "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows." No release date in sight. I don't think J.K. Rowling is even finished writing it. Pre-ordering is available at Borders, though. It'd be hilarious if it ended up being the book version of the PS3...a 700-page Harry Potter tome, available to 1,027 lucky readers with $600 to spare.

it's karma!

Well, not quite.

One of my friends/neighbors was a congressional page back in high school; so, about 3 years ago. With the recent Mark Foley scandal making headlines, congressional pages are now a Pretty Big Deal. Including my friend, whose single remark about Foley on a Page alumni chatroom 3 years ago - "Eeeeeeeeee, Foley" - has earned her anonymous quotage in major news sources, interview requests from CBS, FOX, and CNN, and a subpoena to appear before Congress.

!!!!!

Really shows you how this whole Internets thang can come back and bite you in the ass. Not only was her "Eeeeee" discovered through an internet caché, but the networks? Contacted her by finding her (and her friends) on MySpace.

God forbid Ray Lamontagne one day stumbles upon this humble blog and kills me with his guitar.

Return of the Blah-g

Alright alright alright. Lil Meshugina has complained that I should write in here more so that she can fill up 60 seconds of her day with something other than reading Veronica Mars spoilers. The kink in her genius plan is that I'm not actually very entertaining (unless I'm complaining about the babysitting job I had this summer; people seem to get a kick out of that.)

Well, tonight today this early morning's post shall center on the topic of my new position as Copy Editor of The Eagle, American University's student newspaper. Every Sunday and Wednesday night there is a group of 20-something students (including me) toiling away to produce this fine publication. If you find any spelling or grammatical mistakes, the blame pretty much rests with me.

The thing about being copy editor is that traditionally I have thought of it as the Retard Job. In high school it was given to the girl who was too inept to do anything else. (There's a really good story I could tell about how once during press week, instead of writing in picture captions, she wrote a plea to my friend asking her not to tell anyone about how she saw her crying in the office that day, and my friend was like "WTF does 'Please don't tell anyone what happened today' have to do with the soccer team?...Ohhhh", but I pretty much just told it.)

Also the first few times I came in to edit, the rest of the staff seemed to resent me. Or, more specifically, the "Scene" people (most of whom actually can be described as "scene"). The editor-in-chief would be like "Hey guys, can you give her your pages to edit?" and they'd kind of murmur assent and then 20 minutes later she'd check on me and I'd be sitting there reading a textbook because they never gave me anything. And I'm too scared of their skinny jeans and (fill-in-the-blank)core music stylings to actually say to them, "GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO." (The one time I did sort of attempt it they looked at me blankly, then looked at the computer screen blankly, and then asked the editor what should be done.)

Fortunately this has been mostly dealt with, because now I don't go in until the editor calls me. Which in tonight's case was 11 p.m., resulting in my getting home at 1 a.m., which kind of sucks when I have to wake up at 8:30ish tomorrow, but when it comes down to it I guess I'd rather deal with overwhelming fatigue in class than assholes in emo glasses.

stupid dogs

I'm lucky. I was out drinking at CA's house last night and got home around 3:30; I was still quite tipsy and smelled like beer. Apparently my dog, who has been having diarrhea issues lately (I know, grossssss) started barking to be let out at around 3. If his bowel irritation had occurred a mere 30 minutes later, I would have been in mucho trouble!

Of course, if the dumb thing hadn't started barking at all, they would never have known what time I got home anyway. Apparently staying out past 3 means I'm snorting coke.

Oh the travails of living at home.