Poetic Moment

Sipping prune juice and feeling uncomfortable, I am reminded of the one I love, and I heave a longing heart.

Favorite Costumes

Andrew WK
Silent Bob (spitting image)
Teabag

Things Will Be Looking Up Soon

I found my watch. One down, two more to go.

I've also worked myself into an awkward situation that I know can only get better from here. For the past few weeks I was sporadically trying to date a new person (Philosophy Guy henceforth), and only last Friday did we decide that we would be better off as friends. Unfortunately, this came after our agreeing to go out on Saturday to a big dance party around here, and we kept this date, though as "friends." Talk about uncomfortable! He was clearly trying to get his game on, I was trying not to get pissed off at him (even if one doesn't feel jealousy per se, it's still a foolish-looking place to be caught in), and after about 1 it got so crowded that I didn't even want to dance anymore. So I sat out, and told him that he didn't have to worry about keeping me company. He took this advice rather fully and literally, so there I was waiting, because I promised to give him a ride home. Alone in meditation, I started to wonder where all the good times had gone. It didn't used to be so hard to make a friend. And it used to be easy to have fun. I started to miss my friends back home, until I remembered that it wouldn't be the same anyways; I'm more sedate these days, and I would have been tired no matter who I was with...

At about 20 to 2 I couldn't take it anymore, so I went home and told Philosophy Guy to call me if he needed a ride. It occurred to me that if he wanted to go home with someone else that night, I didn't need to hear about it. It's a good thing I went home, too, because as soon as I did I noticed it was daylight savings, and the party would go on for an extra hour - which I surely couldn't stand.

I guess the thing about relationships (of all kinds) is that they always take a lot of effort, but I seem to feel the burden of it more the older I get. I know I'll be great friends with Philosophy Guy once we get past this transition; I just wish I could get there without feeling like it's such a drag now.

Gnomes Again

Now I can't find my watch. This is insane. It is next to impossible that I should not know where my watch is. Because it's always on my wrist.

What Wikipedia Was Made For

1: "Blah blah blah I used to live next to Urkel."
2: "Hey, what was the deal with that Stephan Urquelle character? I remember Urkel had this alter ego, but I never found out how they explained it."
3: "I feel like this is one of the few questions wikipedia was designed to answer..."

So we looked it up, and here it is. I must say, I'm very impressed with the complexity of the Urkel mythology. I had no idea it was so developed and systematized (ie "boss sauce" and "Bruce juice").

Stefan Urquelle is Steve Urkel's alter ego, also portrayed by Jaleel White. While Urkel is clumsy and unpopular with people around him, Urquelle is popular and suave, especially with women.

Steve created a transformation chamber which allowed him to turn into Urquelle whenever he wanted to; said chamber runs on a liquid known as "Boss Sauce". Steve makes the transformation to Stefan numerous times mainly to woo Laura Winslow, who, as with other women encountered by Stefan, is enamored with the persona. In his premiere, however, he was very narcissistic, cold-hearted, Gaston-ish, and shallow, which quickly turned off Laura.

The effects of the transformation chamber are only temporary; Stefan will change back into Steve after a certain amount of time (originally a week). As the show went on, Steve enhanced the "Boss Sauce" which eventually stopped the change-over from Stefan back into Steve. Stefan could only change back into Steve by drinking an antidote or chewing a tablet. He is also able to alter the nature of his "Boss Sauce" to induce other personalities, such as morphing himself into a martial arts master using hair samples from legendary martial artist Bruce Lee (he referred to this altered "Boss Sauce" as "Bruce Juice").

Later on in the series, very near to the final half year of the series in fact, Steve creates a cloning machine which allows Stefan to become a real person (though it was actually Laura who put the other clone into the chamber), and throughout the rest of the series, he was Laura's boyfriend, and he never had to change back into Steve.

In one episode though, the Winslows go to Paris, and Stefan decides to stay and work in fashion, though it didn't end the relationship. A few episodes after, Stefan couldn't resist the fact of leaving Laura, and decides to move back to Chicago where he sees her from stage at a New Edition concert.

The two were together again until, one of Laura's former boyfriend, Curtis returns to the show, where he is told from Eddie that Laura still loves him (though this was only a prank to get back at Laura). Curtis tries to get her back to him, but when he realises Stefan is her boyfriend, he gives him a warning that if he ever breaks Laura's heart, he'll get what he deserves. Stefan, unfortunately, believes that will never happen.

Near the series' finale, Stefan proposes to Laura, but at the same time, Steve does the same. In the end, Laura chooses Steve over Stefan finally ending their long-distance relationship (that went on until Stefan was finally a real person). To that, Stefan leaves, and the rest of the series goes on without him in the last episode.

Must Be Gnomes

First I seem to have lost my textbok. Now I can't find my checkbook. This is super-weird, considering how neat my apartment is. Maybe I've lost my mind.

Gilda

The Rita Hayworth movie to end all Rita Hayworth movies. I didn't actually like the story, as I couldn't figure out the characters' motivations most of the time, but I love screen sirens and this one had it all.

Sometimes You Just Can't Win

Much the greatest courage was shown, in my opinion, by Aristodemus - the man who had suffered the disgrace of being the sole survivor of the Three Hundred at Thermopylae. After him the greatest personal distinction was won by the three Spartans, Posidonius, Philocyon, and Amompharetus. However, when, after the battle, the question of who had most distinguished himself was discussed, the Spartans present decided that Aristodemus had, indeed, performed great deeds, but that he had done so merely to retrieve his lost honour, rushing forward with the fury of a madman in his desire to be killed before his comrades' eyes; Posidonius, on the contrary, without any wish to be killed, had fought bravely, and was on that account the better man. It may, of course, have been envy which made them say this; in any case, the men I mentioned all received public honours except Aristodemus - Aristodemus got nothing, because he deliberately courted death for the reason already explained.

Herodotus 9.71 (trans. Selincourt)

I Knew It!

I KNEW my man Jeffrey would win Project Runway. Well...I guess it's not fair that he's already a professional fashion designer (for people like Gwen Stefani et al), and his high-end line just got a little higher. But his aesthetic is my aesthetic - and I guess deep down I'm sure I'm going to take over the world or something. I probably should have bought some of his clothes before tonight.

Perhaps I was banking on his not winning (Jeffrey was the underdog), and his clothes getting cheaper.

It's a good policy to write something, put it aside for a day, and then read it again before you send it

But considering the circumstances, I think I did a not-horrible job moderating the angry tone:

Dear all,
If you choose to rewrite a paper, I expect to see an honest consideration of the critiques I made on your first paper - not just a a sentence or two added wherever I made a comment, or a correction of typos. The fact is I let a lot of typos slide, so you have a good chance of still having a very flawed product if you don't go through the rewrite with a fine-toothed comb yourself. The same goes for my comments: often (though not always) they reflect a larger structural problem, not just a mistake you made in that one sentence.

As a result, I'm reserving the right to assign a LOWER grade (ie, something closer to an absolute grade, not the relative grade after I add in points for effort) in the future if I don't see a real attempt to address the weaknesses in your arguments. We're supposed to work together to help you become better writers - and to that end I invest a lot of myself (I at least never got back a paper with as detailed comments as I put on yours) - so if you don't take your half of the job seriously, it's a waste of everyone's time. And please, clean up your typos; there's no excuse for why they should still be there. In old school academia, they should have been caught even before you turned in the first version of your paper.

Yours truly,
Rex

I mean seriously! It's bad enough they think of me as their own personal proofreader, but then it take a whole other level of nerve to expect an A on a silver platter like that - ie, with myself as the co-author. For some of these bastards I bet I spent more time writing comments and suggestions (avg. 30-40 min.) than they did revising.

Current Audio

The Platters
Only You

It's a Wonder Anyone Travels

So my parents and I just had to scrap our plans to visit the big city this weekend after finding out that a one-night stay in a downtown hotel - say, Holidae Inn quality - costs over $400.

Another travelling tip: Amtrak. They usually charge a 10% cancellation fee, so it's like no wonder no one uses trains. (My customer support rep revealed that tomorrow is an extra-heavy time for travelling, projecting *130* passengers.) Luckily, they're more willing to bend the rules if you cancel on the same day you purchase. FYI.

Did I Beat the System?

I paid my latest cable bill today. It seems I'm paying the same amount for 100 channels + high-speed internet as I did for 32 channels only.

Schweet!

Ring the Alarm

What does that even mean? Apparently both Beyonce and Ciara have decided to make it their catch-phrase, which is weird and eerie. If I didn't know better about how mechanical the pop machinery is, I would have thought there was something Twilight Zone-y about the coincidence. As it is, I suspect (totally based on nothing) that Ciara must have written the song first, and then Beyonce must have ripped her off and beat her to the release. Because Beyonce is the bigger star, and it makes sense that the underdog (Ciara) would know better than to pull something like that. Also, I thought it was suspicious how Beyonce released her Ring the Alarm single before we had a chance to get tired of Deja Vu. At the time I just thought it was because Deja Vu sucked so hard.

I wonder if Jay-Z has anything to do with this. I know there's supposed to be some drama between Beyonce and Rhianna because Jay-Z took the latter under wing as his protegee. Crazy wimmen.

* * *

Bring It On was on TV today. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it - and how totally adorable the love interest is (Jesse Bradford?). There were two great lines from Sparky that bears repeating:

"I am a choreographer. You are cheerleaders. And remember, cheerleaders are like dancers...gone retarded."

"Listen up, sweater monkeys!"

Something I Found Totally at Random, and for No Special Reason

US News 2007 top med schools (research) ranking:
11. University of Michigan
15. Cornell
20. Northwestern
28. Boston University
32. New York University
32. Oregon Health and Science University
36. University of Southern California
46. University of California, Irvine

Pobrecita Britney Spears

Last night at karaoke I got to wondering if I knew Britney Spears' Toxic well enough to sing it - so I looked it up, and it turns out I do (it's a pretty easy song). But that search in turn led to a further review of Britney's career, and I became fascinated as I realized that she actually has a really great body of work. I think it's unfair how her career turned out. Sure, she's a total nutcase and we're all tired of her shenanigans, and maybe she never deserved to be famous in the first place, but if you compare her actual songs with what her rivals (Christina Aguilera, Jessica Simpson, JoJo, etc) have to offer, the simple truth is that her contributions to dance pop are truly deserving of respect. So why did she sour so fast? Two words can summarize her undoing: Justin Timberlake.

At the time we just thought Britney was retarded for making mountains out of molehills. Who gave a damn whether she was a virgin or not? Nobody except her, so if she was bothered so much by Justin's betrayal, it was her own fault for making that her Thing - her raison d'etre, if you will. But from the PR perspective, I'm sure it made a lot of sense at the time. The reason Britney exploded onto our consciousness the way she did was because she offered such a fresh-faced change to a media world saturated with whores. The Britney we fell in love with was the pig-tailed, school-spirited girl waiting to be saved by the bell (so to speak) in the Baby One More Time video. So she tried to take that image and run with it. But then Justin exposed her for a charlatan, and it was all downhill from there. Have you noticed that the sum total of her career from that point on was a desperate attempt to compensate - to take ownership of her newfound whore image? Her trouble was that she took that image too far, and it just became gross. It's the same kind of gross sexuality that makes people love Madonna (and that makes me love David Johansen), but for some reason it failed for Britney. Perhaps because she overestimated how much of a whore she seemed to the rest of the world. Or perhaps because she was so naturally trashy...

But talk about a Madonna-whore complex. Zing!

Anyways, my recent deflation made me realize that it's never easy to be exposed for a charlatan. It doesn't matter if your point of pride was stupid to begin with, and everyone else thought you were weird for even caring. Luckily my disappointment wasn't so great that I'd go off running barefoot in gas station bathrooms or marrying douchey sponges, but I can sympathize with how terrible it must have been to be so publicly humiliated, and moreover, betrayed by someone you thought you loved. That shit could surely get you asking those "Who am I? What am I doing here?" questions.

Plus, it's hard enough to endure the loss of love. Too often there are Justin Timberlakes in the world who act irresponsibly and never have to answer to ruining a person's life or causing mental disorders. Vanilla Sky, vis a vis Cameron Diaz's character, I think is an exploration in this moral dilemma. The Justin Timberlakes and David Ameses will continue to walk away scot free, because people feel sorry for them for having to be burdened by the crazinesses of the Britney Spearses and Julie Giannis ("we've all been there before, so why can't these crazy cunts just learn to deal with it?"). All the same, I have a sneaking suspicion that this isn't just.

New Joke

What did the leper say to the prostitute?
Keep the tip.

Why Am I So Upset?

I've been a dejected wet blanket for the last 30 hours of so, since I found out that I did not pass my fucking Latin exam. I couldn't even stand to sit here and blog my complaints, because it pissed me off to think about it. I couldn't call my family to tell them, even though usually I call them like every other day and tell them everything. I wanted to call up some friends and make them listen to me wail, but I stopped myself because it made me self-conscious to show this side of me. So I've been gnashing my teeth impotently and antisocially, when suddenly I ask myself -

Why the hell do I even care?

It's not like I wasn't expecting it. I don't really believe that my program can send me out into the world right now as an expert and not be embarrassed by my amateurism. I told myself that all I wanted to do was pass one exam this summer, and I did that already (Greek history). I'm not actually afraid anymore that I'll get kicked out of my program - I've been doing really well in my classes this semester, and I know that I've proven myself to some extent, and at any rate, I think I've won over enough allies among the profs to bail me out if I should really get in a pinch...

In answer to these considerations, I've come up with a couple theories as to why I might be so upset. First and foremost, I'm upset because this means I can't stop reading Latin forever, like I was hoping to do, until another one to two years. Appended to that is the fact that I actually don't give a damn about Latin, it's a thorn in my side! I know I'm no expert, but I honestly believe I have enough to get me to where I need to go; everything else is this silly philologist masturbation based on professional pride - the way the marines will force you to learn how to waltz if you join (true story).

I also know that they didn't pass me partly because of politics. Me and the professor grading the exam famously don't get along (because he's a closeted homosexual and I'm a back-talking woman). I thought I did decently enough on the exam. It probably had a lot of awkwardnesses and a few mistakes, but I've definitely turned in worse exams before with successful results. Furthermore, I know I will take this exam again in about 2 years, at the last possible moment when I can, and I know that they will pass me just because they have to - and in truth it will be about as good, or perhaps SLIGHTLY better, than the exam I just failed. So it's like what's the fucking point of this whole fucking charade.

Then there's that whole issue of self-promotion, which I'm really kicking myself about. Just the other day one of my professors was talking about how one of my colleagues, the biggest charlatan in the world, is an "expert" in ancient music. HA! I thought; she's no expert, she just keeps saying she's an expert until enough people start to believe her (fyi, there's pretty much no such thing in the world as an expert in ancient music; the documentation of it is too scarce). As much as I think her kind of advertisement is tacky, that's how I should have gone around talking about my Latin skills. If they thought I thought Latin was the one thing in the world I was proud of and confident in, they would have to think twice, and really really hard, before they venture to contradict me and crush me, right? Instead, I was honest about my feelings of doubt, and I think I might have even let it slip out (idiotically) that once I pass this exam I'll be done with Latin forever and ever.

I'm sure the professors, alarmed, felt they had something to say about that.

Finally - and this took some psychological probing - I think there's a part of me that seriously believes my family and friends will stop loving me if I fail. As if they really give a shit about dead languages, right? My left brain tells me that it's probably MORE embarrassing to them that I'm even doing this - instead of something meaningful, like Peace Corps. And yet here I am, and I can't otherwise explain why I feel so dejected. It's like I'm too abashed to go outside and be seen. One of my raison d'etres has been stripped away, and that makes all the others suspect.

Current Audio

Bingo! I was looking for this song since I heard it this morning in the background of NPR, while I was half asleep. God bless the internet.

Los Straitjackets
Squid

Tripping in So Many Ways

"This is the person who got me blogging. It's the link on my blog that's called - hey, can I tell him?"

"Yeah, sure."

"This is Rex Bikini."

"No way! YOU'RE Rex Bikini?"

"Uh huh. You've read it?"

"Your blog is like the only blog I've ever read."

"You don't read Que-Ni's blog?"

"No. This is crazy! About a year and a half ago my friend sends me this link and is like, you have to read this, I think you'll like it. And yeah, it was interesting."

"Thanks. Hold up - who's this friend?"

"My friend Eric. He's a really nice guy."

"So...this is a friend who found me through Que-Ni's blog?"

"No, not me. I don't know this Eric."

Holy smokes. This was my first semi-brush with fame, and as much as I strive to maintain my anonymity, I have to say these little 15 minutes was not ungratifying. I mean, the whole premise of the blog (as opposed to a journal) is this fictional idea that maybe you can reach someone somewhere somehow; and for me at least, the fiction is enough to get me to write more regularly than if I were writing for myself. So on the one hand I'm amazed that the fiction came true on some level. On the other hand, I'm embarrassed that the quality of my writing tends to be pretty uneven, and at times downright frivolous.

Now, if only I can scheme up a way to turn this notoreity into something that pays the rent...

Current Audio

Goldfrapp
Number One

Yume Bitsu
sharp, twisted

I may be entering a new phase: "gay-ass" music. Who woulda thunk. We'll see how long it lasts before I get bored.

One thing that surprises me is that I'm utterly unexcited by dance music these days. Either it's been too long since I've been moving, or else I've been away from my MTV too long. Either way I should haul my ass back into the dance studio soon.

Plague

There is a SERIOUS plague going through my department and/or school right now. I'm in utter disbelief that I wasn't the first one it took down. It started about 2 weeks ago, when I was going through this uncontrollable eating binge. I was really mad at myself for putting on some pounds - and about half of it in chocolate - but now I'm glad I did because I must have been beefing up the lard to fight off germs. I'm also glad now that I stopped going to German and slept in instead all last week. I was certain I would have dropped dead if I'd tried to do it all, and now I think all my sick colleagues are proof that I was right. You can't do it all. Sometimes it's better just to look like a complete incompetent ass.

Leonardo DiCaprio

I posit one of two models:

Model the first:
On Thursday I went over to Que-Ni's to watch the premiere of Ugly Betty. Both of us noticed not only that Vanessa Williams' decollatage has aged disproportionately to her beauty elsewhere, but also that they could have cast a far better looking guy to play the Lothario figure. After the first half hour, the Lothario figure reveled that his character had a soul and depth. "Ah," I remarked, "that's probably why they didn't cast a better looking guy. If he were too good looking he couldn't convince us that he has vulnerabilities."

Model the second:
Have you ever noticed that while a Barbie doll actress has to work really hard to gain respectability, the same is seldom true for the Ken doll actor? Think of the best looking actor you know, and chances are he also has a pretty good reputation for his craft - Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift. Meanwhile there are a plethora of Pamela Andersons and Eva Longorias who will never be much more than a pretty face. If you're lucky, you could eventually become respectable BECAUSE you're a pretty face (Julia Roberts, Audrey Hepburn), but more likely we deny the talent to the pretty face even when it's present (like Marilyn Monroe). In any case, the attribution of talent to a pretty women is usually suspect, while a handsome man can rarely do wrong.

So which of these two models adequately describes how people regularly name Leonardo DiCaprio when they're trying to think of the shining talent of Generation X? I must have first heard it from Stewie in Family Guy ("He's no Leonardo DiCaprio, but..."), and I thought it was a joke, but then I started hearing it repeated more and more in serious contexts. By what standard is DiCaprio a good actor? Am I the only one who saw Romeo + Juliet?! That was one steaming pile of poo, and there was nothing about DiCaprio's performance that could be called "acting." So I'm guessing that people either find him good looking and excuse his flaws, or else they don't think he's good looking and detect vulnerabilities in his characters even though he doesn't bother to incorporate them into his performance.

The baffling thing is, I can't figure out which of the two models it is!