September 29, 2009

Das Experiment

Do you like Germans? Do you like the boyfriend from Run, Lola, Run? What about unethical psychological experiments from the 1970's? Well then this film is for you.

Das Experiment (The Experiment, if you are unfamiliar with life), chronicles the story of a bunch of 30 year old German guys who volunteer for a scientific study on prison behaviors. Stanford already did it, but the study was cut short because things went batshit insane (true story). So this is supposed to be a what-if situation, as in: what if the experiment reached it's conclusion? What if Zimbardo hadn't pussed out, and continued the thing? Well, mostly people would speak a lot of German, pee on each other, walk around naked, and attempt rape. Also, Nazis are only mentioned like twice, which is negative bones.

The tension of the movie comes from the one Nazi-esque guy, whose name escapes me at this time. He's blond though, and you can tell he's crazy because he is an airplane steward and has very gelled hair. Hitlerian, in general. So Nazi Guy takes over among the designated guards and decides to fuck around with everyone. Eventually, things get (mostly) out of hand and the guards kidnap the researchers. I work in a research lab, and let me say, that would suck. But not likely to happen, as my project only involves filling out a 15 minute survey on a computer.

I think the whole psychological effect of the study was the most interesting part of the film. When the main character gets thrown into a sensory deprivation box, you can just feel the fear and claustrophobia of the character. The way the characters just started falling into the roles and following what they thought was expected of them was very accurate as well. In the real study, they had to stop because the guards were emotionally abusing and humiliating the prisoners. In the film, the Nazi guy takes over and everyone starts to follow him, even when he started to Hitler it up.

The one problem I had was that somehow, these German researchers were able to get this study approved. It's so unethical; you can't do this kind of thing anymore. Yes, yes, I know, it's a movie. But still! It makes me slightly nervous that the Germans apparently have no review board to approve or throw out research proposals. There is just no way you would get away with that. The psychological world would be pretty pissed when the results came out. Although the paper would be pretty interesting: "Yeah, the patients kidnapped us. There was piss everywhere and I got shot in the eye. See, psychology can be fun! It's not just Freud and sexuality. There's murder and urination, too!"

Anyway, watch it on Netflix instant. This is my main source for foreign horror right now, so I'm sure I'll have to wade through a lot of crap to get to the gold. But this I do for you, my audience.

September 21, 2009


I know I haven't written/reviewed anything in awhile, but I was inspired by a friend to start writing again. I feel like I haven't watched any good horror movies lately anyway, so I don't think you're missing anything on that part. But I did watch this French movie on Netflix instant, which has become my greatest connection to foreign and forgotten horror films.

The movie starts out as a sort of boring, out of place crime drama type thing, with the main characters driving away from the cops, someone gets shot and dies, and they all have to leave Paris and go on the lam. Or I think that's what happened, I was making coffee at this point and was just waiting for some blood or gore or something to get my mind off of things.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long for two characters, Farid and Tom, to end up in a hostel full of attractive employees who are apparently part-time prostitutes. Two women, who happen to be sisters, seem particularly interested in Tom. Farid doesn't want to engage in any activities with the women, because he has a girlfriend. Tom couldn't care less, and I wasn't sad when the women's brother showed up to kick Tom's ass. It was a good start. But at this point, I thought to myself, you know what would make this movie worthwhile? Nazis. God heard my prayer and obliged. Now we had a real movie.

Jacob (a friend who would like to be taught the basics of horror filmography) and I cheered and screamed at the plight of poor Farid, who was being chased by hillbillies, Nazis, mutant babies, and an obese butcher. My only regret about this movie was that Farid had to die. I don't care if I just ruined it for you, it's a horror movie; there can only be one survivor. After Tom and Farid are gone, the two main-main characters show up. Yasmine and the other guy. I think his name is Alex, but I'm not 100% sure. Yasmine is the true star though, because she is the Final Girl. The whole point of the movie is to be a French Texas Chainsaw Massacre with Nazis. In fact, I think that was the working title. The Nazi family is all about pure blood and the core family values of Hitler's reign. They want to add to their family, so what better way than to kidnap Yasmine and force her to have more children for them. This is where things get interesting. Yasmine meets the mutant incest babies of two family members, the insane leftover Nazi who is older than hell and mostly an asshole, and the big fat butcher guy who cuts up her friends and feeds them to the family. How wholesome.

After Yasmine sort of causes a coup, the whole movie is about revenge and murder. It's a great cathartic experiences to watch Yas kill all those Nazis with a great variety of weapons and a ton of blood. At the end, her white wedding dress is coated in blood and she finally reaches the police. It was such an echo of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre that there was nothing left to do but really appreciate the entire endeavor. Was it a masterpiece? No. But I would highly recommend it to anyone who wants to learn to scream in French or how to appropriately kill Nazis.

June 23, 2009


I started watching this film with little to no expectations, thinking it was going to be another throw-away ridiculous horror premise. I was pleasantly surprised by my enjoyment of it. Maybe something is wrong with me, but I found the subject matter to be hilarious. That being said, I do not recommend this film for men who dislike the idea of losing their junk.

The film is about a young girl who discovers she is able to exact the revenge of women on all mankind with her power to destroy the outer essence of a man. She fights for the rights of women, showing men that they deserve equal pay and respect, and want to be taken seriously. Through her journey of discovery, she stays true to herself, while asserting her rights to the opposite sex and discovering the beauty inside all women. I'm just kidding, she has vagina teeth that bite off penises and it is gross.

Basically, the main girl is all about abstinence, which was terribly done in the film. They treated it like she was a freak for wanting to wait. Also, she went from not even wanting to kiss anyone to full-on having several sex partners. Maybe this is just a personal gripe with the movie, but I thought that wasn't very consistent for the character. But I guess she has to have sex to bite off wieners anyway. And that is where the true hilariousness of the film begins.

She has a crush on this other guy, who "hasn't jacked it since Easter." (A friend wondered why he would have masturbated on the most important Christian holiday, but whatever). They begin to hang out and he ends up attempting to rape her. This is where I started yelling, "DO IT, HE IS A RAPIST, HE DESERVES IT." And I won't ruin anything here, but the kid walks away missing a few inches. Also, if you are squeamish about genital-related gore, they show everything, included the severed members. But that shit is funny to me, so I enjoyed the movie.

The reason she has a toothy vagina is never fully explained, although there are several pointed shots of a nuclear power plant or some such thing behind her house. Imagine if she were in X-Men. The Toothed Avenger. I would definitely watch that, with a big bowl of popcorn. She would be more of a moral crime-fighter though, and that's pretty heavy ethical stuff, so I don't think Professor Xavier would let her in. I mean, how would she even prove her mutation? Castrate Wolverine? He could probably grow it back. Okay, that's enough.

I can see how some people would be turned off by the subject matter, but I'm going to keep it real here and tell you that I that it was super funny. I understand the male aversion to the old vagina dentata myth, but come on. Rapists getting what they deserve? Priceless.

I guess the only real problem I had with the film was the weird incest side-plot with her step-brother. Yes, they are steps, but they were raised as siblings. Also, the brother names his dog "Mother." So you can see that things are pretty messed up in this movie about teeth-vaginas. Also, acting was laughable a lot of the time. AND what gynecologist sticks four fingers in there to check things out?! She should have called the Better Business Bureau. These are minor flaws in an otherwise satisfying B-movie.

I dare you to watch it.

Special bonus:

Be safe!

May 7, 2009

A Review of my Honors Seminar

This is completely real, true, and accurate. I submitted this today as a valid evaluation of my Honors Seminar. I am not sorry.

What did the instructor do that most helped your learning?

Nothing. This is the worst class I have taken since I have come to the U.
This class was supposed to be about autism- but when we got to class on the
first day, Professor Y decided he wanted to teach about prosopagnosia- which no
one cared about. This is not a subject to teach an entire semester honors
seminar about. I am very disappointed in the U for not monitoring
professors and for letting this waste of time happen. I paid for this class
and I regret every second of it.
Not only did Professor Y admit to not knowing anything about autism or
prosopagnosia, but he later let the class know that the only reason he
change the subject was because he plans on doing research into the disorder
this summer. Poor form, take away his tenure.
There was no rhyme or reason to anything we did, no structure, and no real
assignments. The last two weeks of class were canceled to "work on our
papers." The papers were reactions that took about an hour to write.
I am never taking another honors seminar again. You should be ashamed of
the amount of time and money wasted, especially during an economic crisis.
I expect more from a large University like this, but apparently I was

What could you have done to be a better learner?

I could have taken a more worthwhile class.

Additional comments.

Don't get me wrong, Professor Y is a nice guy, but he's a little out-there. He
just expected us to just come to class and discuss the readings, which were
bare-bones at best. How can that be a learning experience? I appreciate
being in the honors track for CLA, but this is ridiculous. If this is "what
grad school is like," I do not want further education.
I was looking forward to an interesting and informative class about autism.
Instead I got a self-indulgent, worthless, mind-numbingly-boring,
wishy-washy, horrendous excuse for academic discourse.
For shame, U of M. For shame.

Names have been changed for the protection of the idiotic.

April 10, 2009

Strange Proposition

You may not believe that this story is true, and believe me, if it hadn't happened to me, I would have some speck of skepticism as well. And yet, the fact that it happened at the bus stop only supports the truthfulness of this story.

I had just finished research for the day (thank God), and I stopped at the Coffman bus stop to go back to Pioneer. I know it's not a far walk, but I was lazy this morning and fate was not on my side. I was also wearing a dress (was that why it happened? I'm going to start wearing baggy clothes) and it was windy, so the bus sounded like a good idea at the time.

I missed the connector, as usual, so I stood next to the bus stop sign and waited for the next one to come. As I was standing there, a man in an orange parka, with a backpack and a scruffy look to him walked up to me. I thought he looked maybe about late 20's to early 30's, fairly normal, nothing to make him stand out. Until he opened his mouth.

Here is what he said, as exactly as I can remember it:

"Hi, I know I don't know you, but I just wanted to say something to you. You have an unparalleled beauty that needs to be noticed by the world. I would like to ask you a question. With your permission of course, I would like to get down on my knees right here and kiss your feet."

My reply: "Uh…I don't really feel comfortable with this."

I must stop here and just tell you what my feelings were at the point he asked to kiss my feet. When he first told me I was beautiful, I thought maybe he was just shy around women and was trying to use some oddly planned pick-up line. But when he got to the foot fetish thing, the only thing I could think was this is a joke. But he kept going. At which point I thought please tell me this is the psych department doing some weird research study. When he was done talking and I left, no one gave me any debriefing, so I am forced to conclude that this was not the case. The third thing I thought may be kind of mean or judgmental, but it's a two-part question: I thought at the time that he was either "mentally unstable" (my brain gave me this word, maybe from abnormal psychology classes) or that he just had a foot fetish and wanted to be normal about it. I felt bad. The apple of his cheek continuously twitched as he spoke and I found myself staring at it because I didn't know what to do.

I just want to tell you now that there is no end to this story and I cannot explain this man's words. So I will just note the rest of his speech.

"I know this might seem forward and this is an awkward question, but I would like to get to know you and maybe make my way up to that point. I realize that I might not be worthy of you, but I would like us to get to know each other. So, with your permission, would it be okay with you if we had a more formal introduction?"

My reply: "Uh…I don't really feel comfortable with this."

I had no idea what to say, what to do, what to think. It was surreal. I felt myself swaying on the spot with weirdness. The sun was too bright. All I could think was, where the fuck is the bus? To continue:

He said, "Well…there's no way to back away from this without being awkward, so…" He then stared at me. I said, "Well, thank you." He then backed away awkwardly, laughing that he didn't mean to be weird. He stood behind me for five solid minutes while I waited for the bus. It never came. Kamran called me and I immediately answered. He wanted to know if I could eat lunch with him at Coffman. I said "YES I'LL BE THERE IN A SECOND." I walked off to Coffman and didn't turn back.

When I told Kamran, he said, "Well he got his wish."

"What wish?"

"I've noticed your unparalleled beauty."

He thinks he's so funny. What a suck-up.

I called my mom and told her. After laughing at me for about thirty seconds, she said I should have told him that I was married and my husband wouldn't appreciate him kissing my feet. I had thought about saying I had a boyfriend, but for some reason, I didn't want to disappoint the guy or make him sad. My sister said it was hilarious.

I ended up walking home after eating with Kamran. I don't think I'll stand at the bus stop again for awhile.

April 9, 2009

I'm getting old.

I told my mom today that I think I have early-onset Alzheimer's. Not something to joke about, I realize, but damn it if I keep forgetting things that I'm supposed to remember. I forgot the word "outcome" yesterday. I forgot the word "deprived" and the word "impoverished" today. That adds to my list of about ten words I've had trouble remembering lately. It makes me feel a little stupid. And very old.

My wardrobe makes me feel a bit old at times too. I wear a lot of cardigans, because I love them. So does my 50+ year old French teacher. So does my 40+ year old psychology teacher. They are so comfortable though, I can't help it. Plus I feel like they make me look like a real psychologist when I wear them. Like I should have a clipboard and horn-rimmed glasses, and say things like, "I understand," "Continue, please," and "Studies show…"

Also, I listen to a lot of Beatles music. I sometimes reference Laugh In and The Twilight Zone. I called someone "dear" the other day. I can't work a computer. There are probably other age stereotypes that I just can't think of, and I'm being harsh on myself and old people (my grandpa sends me very formally-worded emails all the time) but I do hate when I can't think of a word.

But I'm okay with getting old. In fact, I want to get old. I want to be wrinkled, I will never dye my hair if it turns gray. I want to be a nice old grandma who gives you hard candies at church and has a tinkling little laugh. A tough old broad, like my grandma, who could kick your ass and doesn't take shit from anybody. I'll take up smoking just to be a badass, at the age of 84. I'll beat my grandkids in card games and tell them stories about the good-old days. Most of the stories will be made up, but they will be epic. I'll tell embarrassing stories about their parents/my kids, just to piss them off. And I'll swear. A lot.

When I'm old and wrinkly and gray-haired I won't regret that I've lived.

March 24, 2009

Spring Break

I went to Minot  for Spring Break. I don't care what anyone says, I still love North Dakota. Kamran and I took the train on Thursday night (I skipped Social Psychology on Friday, good for me). It was worse than usual- some little 4 or 5 year old kid watched THE LAND BEFORE TIME until TWO in the morning with NO HEADPHONES. So we had to listen to Little Foot and The Bird Guy and Barney and all those other stupid annoying dinosaur assholes sing about God knows what- Jurassic Park or something. The conductor walked by and told the (father?) of the child to turn the movie off, people are trying to sleep. The guy said, and this is an actual quote, "It's almost over, I think. I'm not sure." He was watching the movie too. His extremely overweight wife/mother/Freudian fixation snored next to little Damien, the demon child watching the worst movie ever made. And so Kamran and I sat awake staring into the Amtrak seats, wondering when this purgatory of awful children's songs would end.

We watched Let the Right One In, a wonderful little Swedish vampire film. It was the first film I've seen in a long while where someone was paler than me. Props to my Swedish relatives. I highly recommend it, it's a little slow but I liked it that way. It was a build-up. The little girl-vampire was adorable, even with blood all over her face, and the boy was a little dork, in an odd Scandinavian way. There's some pretty awesome kills.

Moving on, not a lot happened over break (surprise surprise). I did no homework. I ate too much. Kamran and I made chex mix and puppy chow. My niece Emma, who is six months old, met Kamran for the first time and fell in love with him. She watched him wherever he went and even reached out for him to pick her up, which she's never done for anyone before. She wanted to be with him more than her own damn aunt. What a b-word. I don't really mean that, she's just a baby. But if she's anything like her mother, she will not be very nice in general.

Much of my extended family came to watch my cousin Reid (who I refer to as Regis) play class B basketball. It was pretty fun, I guess. A good way to waste a week, that's what I would call it. I have nothing to say.

March 8, 2009

Twilight: The Movie

My long-awaited review of this much-anticipated mushy romance with sparkly vampires and Cedric Diggory.

It's been a few months now since I saw this thing, and I've hesitated several times as to whether I should actually write/publish this. That being said, I should be doing homework and since I don't want to, I'm forcing myself to finish this review of this awful film. (I'm so harsh. Right off the bat. You might think I'm too judgmental. If you liked the books/movies, leave now or forever hold your peace.)

I never thought it would be possible to make Bella an even more boring character than she already was in the books, but somehow the filmmakers outdid themselves and made her worse than Stephenie Meyer could have ever dreamed. Kristin Stewart (I think that's her name, don't know, don't care) was in some sort of zombie trance the entire movie. Also, I thought Bella was supposed to be "plain" (and yet at least 17 guys ask her out during the course of the story…) but KS is not at all plain. She is boring however, and slightly annoying.

And then we have Edward: perfect, sexy, and a vampire. Oh what a wonderful erotic novel this would make, with a better writer and some sex scenes. I'm just saying. I still don't understand how these teen girls are all in love and obsessed with Edward. He is borderline abusive, conceited, and in vampire terms, not that cool. In the film, all of these things are even more apparent than in that awful book. (I will never forgive my sister for making me read it). I think he even physically grabs Bella a few times, especially in that weird Hungry-Like-the-Wolf-by-Duran-Duran scene in the forest. That seemed very out of place to me. I expected Merry and Pippin to walk out of the trees looking for Longbottom weed (nerd alert).

I don't even think I can go on. The vampire family looked bored the whole time (the fans will say, "That's how they're described in the book, that's how they're supposed to be!"), the humor was sporadic and out of touch ("Sex. Money. Sex. Money. Cat." The only mention of the word sex in a film about vampires. I've said it before and I'll say it again, vampires are a metaphor for sex. Vampire teeth—>Sleeping virgins—>penetration—>exchange of bodily fluids—>a disease following. It all makes so much sense. You can't have vampires without sex. Impossible. Look at Anne Rice, if you want some good vampire fiction. Nerd alert again.)

And finally, I get to the PSA about teaching young girls about the wrong kinds of values. I know this review has been sporadic at best and kind of a mixture of book and movie, but no one reads this so I really don't care. But all I want to say is that this series is so anti-feminist as to make me physically sick. Bella has no voice, she only lives to "belong" to Edward, who is a terrible/abusive boyfriend, and kind of a controlling narcissistic prick. Bella doesn't make any of her own decisions, she's like a small child who is lost and can't take care of herself. Not a good image for girls to strive for. I hope someone writes something better to replace this awful fad.

March 4, 2009

Computers: I am the destroyer of technology. Beware.

I hate them. They hate me. I have the worst luck with any sort of technology in my life. I ruin everything I touch. My computer. My digital camera. My ipod. Robots. If I were an X-Person (I am not a Man) I would be that little kid from the second movie who changes the TV channels by blinking. Except when I blinked, the TV would explode. The wreckage from the television would destroy my computer, which would have my ipod attached, which would promptly stop working.

I once got an electric shock that burned my finger when I was pulling the cord from my alarm clock out of the wall.

But the latest strife in my life of eternal computer-related misery and woe is the self-destruction of my computer. It just stopped working. It turns on for a second and then does nothing. A little cursor blinks in the corner. Kamran got it to turn back on the first try. The guy at the help desk got it on in one try, but told me it was suffering from MOTHERBOARD FAILURE. What does that mean? I know nothing about computers, I care nothing about computers. But I'm pretty sure that's really bad.

I am praying for it to just miraculously start working again, but I can't find a passage in the Bible that mentions an IT department in heaven.

In a normal pissed-off situation like this, I would either play a shit ton of spider solitaire, or I would listen to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. Unfortunately, I can't do either of these. And so my life is a jumbled mess, I can't check my email every 10 minutes, facebook is out of the question, how am I supposed to check if anyone has tagged me in a new photo? What is the point of life?

And now I realize that this was all my fault. I recently wrote that I shouldn't bring my computer to class, that is was a distraction, that I needed to be able to concentrate and it was ruining my class time. I wrote the post on my computer. My computer must have been watching. It committed suicide because it was unappreciated. Now I realize the error of my ways. I must win back the heart of my poor precious computer.

March 2, 2009

You're a good man, Harry Potter

I'm not trying to be mean to Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling or the legions of fans involved in the entire ordeal. I consider myself one of those fans. I was way into Harry Potter at the time. I went to all the book releases. I had a shirt that said "Hogwarts Quidditch." I've read each book more than 3 times. In fact, much more than three times, but I don't want to say how many because it's embarrassing.

But since most of what I write is about things I dislike, I thought I would mix it up and write about things I…dislike. But things that I dislike about something that I generally love. So it's different.

The thing that bothers me the most about Harry Potter is that, while it is creative and revitalized the love of reading for many children and integrated old mythologies and legends into a coherent story format and many twists and turns that brought joy and peace to the world, sometimes it's just so damn predictable. Before you hate me forever and punch a hole through your computer screen in frustration and angst, hear me out.

Wasn't it obvious that Harry was going to defeat Voldemort? Okay, bad example- that had to happen or the world would implode and the fans would have had J.K.'s head on a stick. But here's the main problem with that ending: what does Harry have to live for now? Nothing. His life's work is over at the age of 17. He's like a child actor. I think that in the "Nineteen years later…" part, Rowling should have had him be a strung-out has-been hanging out with Corey Feldman, maybe having his own reality show and running out of the money he earned from being a spokes person for butterbeer. That's the Harry Potter I want to read about.

Also, did he really have to name his kids James, Lily, and "Albus Severus?" Could he honestly not think of any better names? It's so cliche to name your kids after your parents. (Although, thank God he didn't name them Jamarthur or Mollily, which I'm sure Stephenie Meyer would have named her characters' children. I haven't read the fourth one, but I've heard about good ol' Renesme Carlie, or whatever the hell that abortion of a name is.) I've read fanfiction (as much as I hate to admit it) and one of the main things about the "seventh book" writers is that they ALWAYS name Harry's kids after dead characters. Yes, Harry, we get it. Your parents died. But isn't it kind of morbid to name your children after dead people who you really never even knew? I'm just saying.

Also, was Harry required to become a Christ-figure? He died, was resurrected, gave his life for mankind, was the savior. This could be applied to both Jesus and Harry Potter, as blasphemous as it may sound. And in the final epic battle (fuck you if you haven't read it yet, where have you been? I will give you no spoiler alert, because you do not deserve one) Harry just seemed so confident for some reason, even though the entire time he was kind of a whiny little baby. And then he suddenly turns all Clint Eastwood on us and toys around with Voldemort. The whole appeal about Harry was that he was an everyman, he didn't have anything all that special about him. He had insecurities, he was just as scared and confused as the rest of us are during our teen years. But I guess death and resurrection makes you much more confident in yourself. It's like a movie montage of sports training, only more painful and disturbing. Well maybe not more disturbing.

I might have to continue my complaints at another time, because this just turned out to be about only the seventh book. But don't fear, dear reader, I have complaints about each book in turn. Maybe I'll just work my way backwards, toward the inconsistencies of book one. Please don't kill me, mob of HP FANATICS. I will worship your goddess, J.K., if you spare my life. All hail, etc.

February 27, 2009

Why I Shouldn't Bring my Computer to Class

I think I need to talk myself out of taking notes on my laptop. I spend way too much time on the internet, looking at things that I don't need to look at (not porn). In fact, I am in class right now. I'm not listening at all and sometimes I block things out so thoroughly that I really have no idea what's going on for a solid thirty minutes. Here are the pros and cons of having my computer in class with me.


1. Taking notes is so much faster. I get all the information I need as quickly as I need it. I don't have to waste precious, precious paper to write out a bunch of unnecessary notes that I will inevitably throw away the second after the final. This way, I can just put my notes in the trash, quick and easy (you can't recycle on a computer, they should call it the recycling bin to increase awareness of recycling and nitpicking.)

2. I can carry my computer instead of several notebooks. It's cleaner and lighter and takes up less room. Also,


1. I spend an ungodly amount of time on: facebook, digg, and somethingawful. I become a bigger nerd every day. It's an addiction. I get to the point where when I actually have to take notes, I consider it an inconvenience and an interruption of more important work.

2. I check my email every 5.3 seconds. I never have new emails. I become depressed.

3. I spent an entire 2 hours reading wikipedia articles on Salman Rushdie and whatever links off of his entry.

4. I talk to Kamran too much and I say things that are either mean but joking("I hate you"), don't make any sense ("poooooooooop"), or just things that are boring or useless ("yeah.") He puts up with me.

5. I think people might see what I'm looking at or writing, and even though it's normal stuff, it makes me uncomfortable.

6. My computer is slow and takes forever to start up. It also takes up my whole damn desk. I need room for my pencil. I might need it.

I thought of way more cons, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to continue taking my computer to class. It's just so much more fun to read digg than listen to whatever the hell my teacher is talking about. We'll see what my test grades are to see the real answer.

February 25, 2009


I haven't written in a long time. I haven't had anything to say. I still don't really.

I was going to publish a review of the Twilight movie, but I didn't want to piss off any fangirls (re: my sister.) I really can't think of what I want to say.

All I've been trying to do lately is sit down and read- for fun. I either don't have the time normally or I'm so tired from reading for class that I would be insane to read on my own time. The words all jumble together and don't make any sense. I try to make the time before I go to bed or instead of going on my computer, but the past few days I have actually fallen asleep in my computer chair. Like a cat.

I made a list of books I want to read, which keeps getting bigger everyday. I don't think I'll ever finish the list, but my few of heaven is a large library with eternity to read whatever I want. So hopefully God will take pity on me and let me read all the books on my list in heaven.

I'm reading three books right now. This isn't a feat or anything, one is a book on tape, one is a play for French class, and one is just a regular old novel. The audiobook is Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi. It's interesting but a bit repetitive. It's difficult to listen to it on the way to class because either the busses drown out the voice on my ipod or I feel like the narrator is repeating the same sentence over and over again. I'm complaining, but I do like the book overall. (5 discs left, 5 discs left…)

The play for French class is Le Portrait de Dora by Helene Cixous. It's pretty standard, but I'm surprised about the amount of weird sex scenes. Although I guess Freud is one of the main characters.

The novel I'm reading is The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. I may sound like a sci-fi nerd for reading something with both the word martian and chronicles, but it's Bradbury, so get over yourself. Bradbury's style is like lyrics to me, I guess. He describes things so differently than any other author I've read. He describes how things feel rather than how they look, he mixes the senses and creates something else. It's nice to see an author who clearly loves what he does and loves his characters. He's one of my favorite authors. If I had the time to just sit around and read him all day, I would. But I don't have that time, I'm wasting it on writing this blog.

February 7, 2009

Class Schedule Spring 2009

Since I haven't written anything in forever and a half, I figured I would slowly ease back into the task of writing mediocre opinion pieces on subjects that apparently no one but myself cares about. My first post of the year, and I'm wasting it on a summary of my classes. This is all I have in life.

1. Biological Psychology: Seems like an okay class at first, until they start talking. This is no regular psychology class. I've taken about ten since coming to the University, and this is the only one I've taken that relies on real science. The only one that uses several methods to explain real, concrete information. Whereas with other psychology classes, there's always this sort of leeway, it might be true, there's a correlation, but there's no real way to be sure. Well this time, they're sure. They cut up a bunch of dead guys and studied what was in there. Unfortunately, we now have to study all the gross inside-stuff that they found.

2. French Theatre: I like my teacher, I've had her for three classes now. No complaints. More Sartre? No thank you.

3. Abnormal Psychology: I like the content, but the problem I have with this class is that it meets at night. I hate night classes. I had successfully avoided them until this semester. I had two my freshman year and I vowed I would not take another my entire college career. My vow was broken, and now I am shamed. My family is also shamed. And I have to sit next to smelly people. The first night of class I almost threw up because the woman sitting next to me (bored housewife?) smelled like chicken salad and fruity lip balm. Now I sit next to a post-Goth kid with a rectangular beard who smokes during breaks. I honestly prefer the smoke over the lip balm. I'll talk lung cancer over chicken salad chapstick any day.

4. Social Psychology: I love this class. My definite favorite this semester. My professor swears (a lot). Here is a small list of the words she has said in class:
The word cock was actually written in the notes. No joke. This woman is brilliant. She should teach every one of my classes. She should have her own television show and book deal. I love this class.

5. Honors Seminar: This class was supposed to be a seminar based on the study of autism. When we all showed up to start the class on the first day, the professor informed us that he didn't want to teach about autism anymore. Apparently there must be an unwritten understanding that professors can just teach whatever they want without informing anyone, even the students, that the class is going to completely change. He's now teaching us about prosopagnosia, where a person does not recognize/differentiate between faces. Now, this is still semi-interesting, don't get me wrong. But is it really a three-credit class, one semester long? Is it worth that much time and energy? And the professor doesn't even really know anything about the disorder. He's just "interested" in it. Yeah. So we're taking the class and he's taking the class, basically. I'm so glad a college-education is worth this much to the administration. What a great semester I have to look forward to.

December 22, 2008

Fun with Bells

I worked two hours at Miracle Mart today ringing the Salvation Army bell.  After losing three toes to the cold (why, oh why did my family decide to settle in North Dakota?), I feel that I've learned not only about my hometown, but about people in general and old people in specific.  They put my mom and I in the entryway to the store, because it "wasn't as cold," but really it was just as cold but we weren't being snowed on.  My mom and I talked about various boring things- mostly my boyfriend, Josh Duhamel and Fergie (they spent Thanksgiving in Minot!), school, and Christmas shopping.  Then mom had to go pick up my sister from school.  And that's when things got weird.

One older lady came up to me and in a very soft voice told me that I was such a good person for volunteering, especially at my age.  She went on for 30 to 45 seconds.  What do you say to that?  "Oh, thank you, I know I'm a wonderful person who will surely be accepted with open arms into heaven.  I'm not like the Lindsay Lohan's and Britney Spears' of my age.  I am better than everyone, and you better not forget it."  Instead, I just said thank you.  But all of this passed through my mind.  She didn't even give any money.

Another even older man came up to me, gave some money, and then sidled in real close-like, as if telling me a secret.  It was vaguely harassment-y.  I didn't say anything, but I was a little scared.  The following conversation is exact and unchanged in any way.

Old man: "You know, the Sunday school at my church did a fundraiser.  They gave all the money to Africa."

Me: "Oh?"

Old man: "They shouldn't give the money to Africa, they should keep it here in America!"

Me: "Uh…"

Old man: "You know who it will go to if it goes to Africa, don't you?"

Me thinking: Oh God, don't let him say it.  Whatever he's going to say, he needs to stop.

Old man: "The outlaws."

Then he left.  It made me very uncomfortable, but honestly, it could have been worse.  Not much worse, but really it could have been worse.  Racism, for real.  Look into it.

The mystical day ended when my feet were so cold that I had to put the bell down and walk into the store because I couldn't feel anything from my shins down.  Then my mom picked me up and I ate 2 fruit snacks and a ton of jalapeno chips.  Not a bad day really, it was pretty realistic.  Is it possible to cry yourself to death?

December 17, 2008

Possible Cat Names, for those who are interested.

Yes, that's right.  I am making a post about what I might possibly name a cat.  I don't even like cats that much, but thinking up names for them is funny to me.  I am doing this for two reasons only:  Kamran is sleeping and I am bored (that's one whole reason), and I haven't posted anything in awhile so I'm using this as a terrible excuse for an update.  So here are the names we came up with last night:

Bongo (just sounds cool), Pippin (we also threw out Frodo and Sauron), Tits (just sounds cute for some reason), Cunegonde (main female character from Candide, I would like to name my animals after literary characters because it's more badass that way), Q or M (besides Bond, just cool names), Sir (with or without a name behind it), Chum (no explanation here), Chainsaw (Rory thought of that one for his future child, I feel bad for that kid), Pierre (or something French, then we could train it with French commands), Mario or Luigi (or Yoshi, or Peach, or Toad…), Kamran said some weird fantasy role-playing video game names but I said absolutely not, Kamran (that was my choice for a cat name), Rory (going with the "people we know" theme).  I can't think of anymore, but that's the gist of the conversation we had last night.

I favor one syllable names or names that are nouns.  They have more comedy value when applied to a small kitten.

My favorite: Tooth.  Not Teeth, or Toothes, or Fang or anything like that.  Just "Tooth."  Because that would be the greatest name ever.  For anything really.  Having a child?  Name him or her Tooth.  It's a unisex name and can be applied to any species.  A universal name, if you will.

Kamran's favorite: Pixel, Pix or Pixie for short.  I thought that was clever and cute.  Damn you, Kamran.  I don't want a cat anyway.

I just thought of one: Dreidel.  How cute would that be?  This needs to end, it's getting out of hand.