Unbelievable

Today, all of the sudden, it hit me—school starts again on Tuesday.  What the hell?  Where did my summer go?  I still have so much to do, and now I have no time to do it in.  I was going to get a lot of stuff done for applying to grad schools.  Did that ever happen?  No.  Have I even made a list of grad schools I'm going to apply to?  No.  Have I started studying for the GRE?  No.

Here I am, sitting on my bed in my room that hasn't been unpacked yet (even though I moved in a week and a half ago), and worrying that I haven't done enough this summer.  However, I'm still not doing anything about it.  Will I even have time to do anything before school starts?  Probably not.

Procrastination is a terrible thing.  I have made it successfully through my life up until now while procrastinating.  I kept thinking this summer that I would finally regret not studying more throughout the semester for my calc class.  I went into the final with a B+, needing a 96.9% on the final to get an A in the class, which seemed highly unlikely considering I'd gotten an 83.7% on the midterm.  What did I do?  I studied for the final in the two days before the test and managed to get an A in the class.  Why would I ever apply myself for an entire semester when I can make up for it all in two days?

I feel like this is my logic when approaching almost everything.  However, I have now talked to several people who spent months writing their personal statements for grad school.  If I started today, I could only spend months studying and writing my personal statement if I applied at the end of October.

I'm freaking out.  What have I done?  I don't think this is one of those things you can just study for in the 48 hours before it's over.  I think I may have hit my procrastination wall.  I don't think it's going to all work out this time.  ...Shit.

Between Love and Hate

I had been putting off seeing The Dark Knight for a long time. Finally, I was at my cousin's for his birthday and he really wanted to see it before it went out of theaters. I was still a little hesitant (poor Heath, etc), but it was my cousin's birthday. Plus, he was right; if I was going to see it, I should see it on the big screen.

Now, I really like Batman as a super hero. I think he might even be my favorite. However, I probably know less about the Batman comics than I do about any other super hero. So, my review is not based on how closely related the comic is to the movie (which I usually do take into consideration).

We go to the theater, get our tickets, find some good seats, and the lights dim. I start to get pretty excited. I keep thinking about all the rave reviews I've heard: better than the first movie, Heath is the best actor in the movie, could've done a dozen more movies with him as The Joker, etc.

The movie starts and I get even more excited. Christian Bale! Michael Caine! Morgan Freeman! I was so happy to see them all! But for some reason, even though I'd seen dozens of previews for the movie, I had no idea Aaron Eckhart was in the movie! I loved him in Meet Bill. This just keeps getting better!

Then after I got over the initial high. I remember being pretty confused by the plot. Everything was happening so fast. I feel like crucial details were lost in the clutter that was my mind trying to keep track of people's names and faces, let alone the storyline. I was actually starting to get annoyed by it.

Then, all of the sudden, Heath! The makeup, the hair, the clothes, the mannerisms, the voice. Haunting. Then he came back a second time. And a third. Each time I was less and less impressed with the overall effect. The makeup, hair, and clothes would be easily as creepy on someone else, and his mannerisms were not all that distinctive. So, that only left the voice. I finally realized that the only reason I was so impressed by his portrayal of The Joker, was that his voice never faltered. He never slipped out of the higher-than-normal Joker voice. He never once said anything even remotely with his usual Australian drawl. When you expect to hear Heath Ledger and you get that voice, it's unnerving. However, once I realized that was the only thing making his portrayal so unsettling, I was significantly less impressed with his acting for the rest of the movie. I'm not saying it was bad, it just wasn't as great as everyone said.

After a while, I felt really disoriented. It's like when you're riding in a plane at cruising speed and you doze off for a second and wake up and you've started descending and your body is startled by the new speed. That's exactly how my brain felt about this movie. You're racing along so fast you can barely keep up and then someone starts slowing it down. When you finally notice you're slowing down, you've already slowed down so far that it's almost shocking. Once I realized how slowly the plot was moving along, I thought we had to be nearing the end. So, I looked down at my watch. What?? There was a whole hour left!

After a very mediocre middle of the movie, Two Face finally takes the center of attention. I think that Aaron Eckhart's transformation from Harvey Dent to Two Face was the greatest acting in the entire movie. And I'm not putting any of the other actors down; I think that, overall, this is probably one of the best-acted movies I've ever seen. Most of the time you say, "Wow! Everyone was really great! ...Except [insert name like Selma Blair, Sarah Jessica Parker, etc]." I don't think there was an "except" in this movie. Everyone—even the people you only saw once or twice—played their parts exceptionally well. However, for me, Aaron Eckhart just stole that movie right out of Heath's cold, dead fingers. There's no way Heath out-acted Aaron. Sorry, but you know that if he hadn't died before it came out, everyone else would be thinking the same thing.

Overall, I would have to give this movie 3 1/2 stars. I like my movies to start out slow and introduce the characters, progressively build up to a climax of some sort, and then let you down easy. This movie was exactly the opposite: it started out too fast, dropped down to much too slow, and then the only thing that saved it at the end was Two Face.

I also have to say I'm much more interested in seeing another movie with Two Face than The Joker. No matter how many more movies they could have put The Joker in, I feel like you wouldn't have learned any more about his character. The point is that he's just completely insane and there's no rhyme or reason to his actions. With Two Face, you can see how his psychological damage plays out. Overall, he's a much more interesting character.

Once again the sequel rule holds true. This was not better than Batman Begins. Maybe I'll be less disappointed by the third movie, but I have a feeling it's going to be a long wait for that...

Baby I Got Your Money

Okay, so I'm really bad at the this whole updating-my-blog-on-a-regular-basis thing, but I promise I'll try and be better. Between studying for my final, taking my final, packing, moving, unpacking, and working ~40 hours this week, I really haven't had the time. However, I have been working on a couple posts, so hopefully for the next little bit you'll get a post a day.

The other day my sister told me she found a song from this weird cover CD. If you listen to the song in the playlist at the right, you'll probably recognize the song. I totally could not stop laughing when I listened to it. I think just listening to it actually makes me feel whiter. It kind of reminds me of Al Yankovic, but without changing the words.

I took a moment to wonder how I could relate this song to my life at the moment. Well, it's a cover of a song, so I could do something about how I feel like a cover of myself... Then I realized that that's even too much of a stretch for me (not to mention the fact that it sounds like a line from a bad made-for-TV movie). For now I guess you'll just have to live with the song and hope that my later posts are more meaningful (read: interesting).

Creeps Me Out

So the other day I decided to watch P.S. I Love You. It's probably the only book that every single woman in Moscow has read. I remember seeing the book and the movie everywhere. I was even talking about it with a girl from my work and she said, "I love that movie! I've seen it like 8 times!" It can't be that bad, right? Wrong.

Now, if you have ever heard me talk about movies, you probably know that I'm not usually a very harsh critic. My scale generally starts at "Okay" and goes to "One of My Favorites". So, you'll probably be surprised to hear that I'm giving this movie a low, low 1 star. I actively dislike this movie. It is the definition of a tear-jerker. I don't like movies that toy with you like this. It's just a blatant manipulation of my emotions. Plus, the acting wasn't all that great! Hilary Swank is up to her usual mediocre self, Denny Duquette is horrible with a fake Irish accent, and Phoebe and the Irish husband aren't in it enough to make up for the rest of the awful acting. The only redeeming quality was that Harry Connick Jr. was in it.

You remember Harry Connick Jr., right? From Will and Grace? Aw, man. He was dreamy. I remember thinking that he was a moron in the show for marrying Grace, though. I mean, seriously, why would a hunk like that want to marry a pasty stick with red hair?

Who doesn't have a crush on Will and Grace Harry Connick Jr.? That hair... Those eyes... What a smile...

Then, on the other side of the spectrum, we have Harry Connick Jr. from P.S. I Love You. What a shlub. I know he's supposed to be a good guy who's down on his luck. Even though he's great in the role, he doesn't really even look himself. Just because you wasted away your fortune on hookers doesn't mean you can't be cute. I think the most disturbing part of his appearance, though, is his chin. I mean, look at it! Where did it go??? He certainly used to have a chin...


Did he get like a chin implant or something? If so, he has to have gotten it removed, right? I mean, what else would explain such significant chin loss? But why would one get their chin implant removed? It seems like a stupid decision to me, but I obviously don't have the talent, fame, or accumulated wealth that Harry Connick Jr. does, so what do I know? All I know is that this new look is too creepy for me. I miss the old, sexy, well-groomed, sufficiently-chinned Harry Connick Jr.

Sex Type Thing

I was going to post something else today, but since I am short on time I'll just leave you with this.

Just now a friend recommended a site to me and I saw this weird ad-like thing at the bottom: "How many people have you slept with? Too many? Too few? Answer a couple questions and we'll tell you how you compare to other people your age." Always interested in the methods websites use to collect such data, I clicked on it, punched in my information and out popped the results:


I feel like it's one of those games on Sesame Street and a muppet should be singing, "Which one of these just doesn't belong?" It shouldn't take you long to find this:

WTF? How does this make any sense whatsoever? Suddenly, my original intentions come back to me: determine collection method. Right. (One temporarily forgets when faced with the crucial task of determining one's own normalcy.) Assuming that the only data they have was given to them, what kind of 22-year-old takes online quizzes more often: frat guys, sorostitutes, or male computer nerds? In order of likeliness, I would probably guess sorostitutes, male computer nerds, and then frat guys. Now, if I am sorely mistaken in this assumption, please enlighten me as to why 22-year-old females are so much sluttier than their male counterparts. Or even if you think I'm right, feel free to make up something much more amusing. I deeply appreciate creativity.

Oh, and if you're also interested in data collection methods, take the quiz yourself:

Mingle2 - How Sexually Experienced Are You?8

Any Other Way

Yesterday after I posted, I decided to see what blog was next. (Click Next Blog» in the silver bar at the top for a random blog.) There are a lot of stupid ones about people's babies and hobbies and stuff, but then you stumble upon something so completely unexpected you just can't take your eyes off of it. After a few minutes of staring in awe at the ridiculousness, I was curious as to why the blog only had one post, so I clicked to view Bob's complete profile. Five blogs? And what's with the titles? It's almost as if the blog titles are the names of posts. ...Dingdingdingding! If you click to Bob's other "blogs", they all only have one post as well. How does this happen??? How can a person know enough about blogging to start a blog and yet not understand what a blog is??? Oh, Bob. *shakes head in dismay* I hope that you are a 60-year-old man using a library computer. If you're not, please give your computer to someone who knows how to use it and save the blogosphere from your complete and utter lack of competency.

I should go back and clarify that a blog about your child is not always stupid. However, there are certain parents that over-obsess. I don't care if you want your children to be the next Olsen twins. That is certainly no reason for me to have to click through four of your completely useless blogs.

blog n. an online diary; a personal chronological log of thoughts published on a Web page; also called Weblog, Web log

This is not a place for you to whore your children. This is not a photo album. If you ever have a thought that's not about your children's profitability, please write it down. Although, that's probably not possible, so just delete your "blogs". That way neither I nor any other non-tween has to accidentally come across one of them ever again.

*PS* For quailty blogs, check out the Further Reading...

Oh Lately It's So Quiet

So, much earlier today (yesterday?) my not-boyfriend broke up with me. I still am not quite sure how I feel about this. Usually when something like this happens, I'm immediately devastated: either I wallow in my own self pity for days, or I am so angry I can't think straight. The fact that I'm not sure how I feel is kind of weirding me out, and the most disturbing part is that I don't feel either of my normal emotions. I simply can't decide whether I'm disappointed or relieved. On the one hand, I feel slightly like a child whose favorite toy just broke. On the other hand, I feel like the batteries finally ran out in that annoying clock that ticks at you while you're trying to concentrate. But, overall, I would have to say I'm just apathetic.

I realize that none of these are really acceptable ways to feel when your boyfriend breaks up with you. However, what are the socially acceptable ways to feel when your not-boyfriend breaks up with you? It seems disrespectful to not feel something when another human being says they'd prefer never to see you again. I mean, even if it's someone you hate, you at least feel strongly about it when it happens. But to feel nothing? To completely brush it aside? It's like hitting an all-time low. To not care feels so... inhuman...

Let there be light...

While I was in Russia this past year, I really enjoyed blogging about my life there. It was nice to be able to rant about things that really bothered me, but not have to annoy my host mom with them. Plus, she really didn't get why I was so upset about most of the stuff anyway. I debated going back to my old LJ when I returned, but ultimately decided that I would never be able to use LJ again. The tipping point was when I realized that Russians—probably the most technologically illiterate people of a developed nation—only use LJ (or ЖЖ, which does look freaking sweet in Russian).

With that decision out of the way, it took me to an even bigger problem: what would be the main point to my blog, or in other words what would I call it. Some people have names that are built for clever blog titles, while others' idioms never change. I, on the other hand, felt that my blog title should convey something about the substance of my ramblings, the essence of my being. So I took a while to think about it.

On one of my last days in Moscow, I was sitting on the metro thinking about how many things I'd seen on my hundreds and hundreds of hours on the metro. For some strange reason I couldn't help but thinking about the bomb that went off in 2004 on my line during the morning commute. (Unfortunately, my mind wandered there quite often.) However, short of a massive terrorist attack, there's very little that could halt the Moscovites from moving around their city with ease (let's face it, they do a hell of a job considering they handle more trips every day than NYC and London combined). Someone picking your pocket is so trivial that you might as well not even tell the police. That got me to thinking... Why would you ever steal one wallet at a time? Why not just hold up an entire car and run like hell once the doors open? It would probably work even better if you could have one person at each of the three doors. I later mentioned this to one of my expat friends and she looked at me like I was insane. All of the sudden I realized it was probably not good to be pondering the most efficient way to steal several dozen people's valuables while trapped in an enclosed space for a very short period of time.

And that's how this blog came to be. Well, actually it took an annoyingly long time to find a combination of words that conveyed this meaning, but wasn't already taken. Which obviously means I'm not the only person who has strange thoughts like this from time to time. However, I find it's often more fun to point out other people's bizarre brain babies, so I'm okay with it. Whether I bring you my own twisted logic, point out someone else's, or maybe mix the two together, I promise I'll at least try my best to make it amusing.

/boring introductory post