Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday shout-outs to Kelly, Luke, Mike and Krista!

Topics of the night include: How to weigh your boobs, tattoos, girly drinks, foot-long hot dogs, Luke's lack of body hair, Guitar Hero, inflatable sheep, and ice packs.

Activities of the night have included: Shoving cake huge slices of cake into our faces (if you're Luke), Defending our lack of body hair (if you're Luke), getting shitfaced (if you're Luke), tricking people into opening fake peanut brittle cans (if you're Seth), voyages to 7Eleven (if you're a boy), and discussion of Thesises (if you're a nerd).

I love you cazy insane people. Thanks for making me feel awesome and beautiful everyday.

P.S. - Mini shout out to Bobby!, who I haven't seen in years. As Kelly used to say, "I love Bobby!" True story.

Fantasy British Acting Mafia

When you watch as much British television and as many British movies as I do, you begin to notice things. You begin to see patterns and links between actors. Like, "Hey it's that guy! You know, the one that was in that other movie with Bill Nighy!" A sort of six degrees of separation for British actors. Stephanie calls this The British Acting Mafia.

To give an example(Doctor Who of course, since it's what I've been watching obsessively): David Tennant, the current Doctor, starred in Secret Smile with Kate Ashfield, who was the lead chick in Shaun of the Dead. She starred in Shaun of the Dead with Jessica Hynes (who, incidentally, guest starred on two episodes of Doctor Who). Jessica Hynes was in Bob & Rose with Lesley Sharp. Lesley Sharp gave a tour de force performance in The Second Coming with Christopher Eccleston, who ALSO PLAYED THE DOCTOR in Doctor Who! TA-DA. See? British Acting Mafia! And I'm only skimming the surface here*.

Anyway. Because I'm a dork and was thinking about how much Stephanie and I squee whenever we recognize someone and make these links, I developed a game. Instead of fantasy football or baseball or whatever, with its statistics and trading and all the nonsense that I just don't get, Fantasy British Acting Mafia. Here's how it works. Think of your favorite British actors. Imagine them in an awesome roll. When it comes true, you win!

The first installation of Fantasy British Acting Mafia we have one of the coolest things ever. I am so bummed that it's sold out/I don't have a Sugar Daddy/I can't just up and go to England.

Chiwetel Ejiofor and Ewan McGregor in Othello. Whoever cast that, you get a medal. That's going to rock.

*Ok, I could also mention that Kate Ashfield was in The Best Man with Richard Coyle, who you know from Coupling, who was also in -- get this -- Othello with Christopher Eccleston. I KNOW. I could go on all day like this.

San Francisco: The Photos

Finally. It took me damn over a month to get my ass together, but I've just uploaded the photos from my trip to San Francisco.

Sadly, I didn't take very many pictures while in San Fran. This was for several reasons. First, I was experiencing a tiny bit of photography burnout from some small gigs I did for friends and outside stresses plaguing my mind. Second, the weather wasn't particularly photo-friendly. It rained often, not enough to damper the trip, but enough that I didn't want to take my camera out and get it wet (we know how precious I am about that thing). And finally, my lens broke.

You heard me.

My favorite lens, my 50mm, the one I use all the time since it's fairly awesome in low-light and non-flash photography, broke. Needless to say, this was pretty devastating to me. Sure, I had a second lens with me, my 28-80mm, but...If I want to use that lens, I pretty much have to use flash. Which I hate. A lot.

Anyway. No use crying about broken lenses. My favorites from what I did take:



Our hotel was right in Union Square. This street performer was there on our first night, sort of gyrating around. There was no music or anything. You know, I have to admire a woman who gets up in the morning and thinks, "I have to make a buck or two today. What to do? Hmmm...well, I have this silver bustier and helmet. I'll go to Union Square and twitch around for a bit!"



This guy sold me 5 mini zines for 2 dollars each. Meaning I gave him $10. Stephanie was slightly horrified at my willingness to fork over money to some dude on the street. Whatever, still like the portrait. Not pictured: The giant spliff behind his other ear.



Chinatown, where I spent a lot of time just walking around, window shopping, and exploring. Do you see the trolley? While I didn't ride a trolley while there, it gave my heart extreme joy every time one drove by and did it's signature "Ding, Ding!" It was hard, but I refrained from breaking into The Trolley Song whenever I saw one.









Taken on the ferry on our way to Azkaban Alcatraz. The day was quite chilly with off/on rain.





Because it was such a gray day, a lot of the Alcatraz pics converted nicely to black and white.



It was cold on that ferry. And yet, Stephanie braved the wind and spitting rain to hang out on the deck with my crazy ass while I took pictures. Bless. At least she was smart enough to bring a heavy sweatshirt and hat. Unlike me, Miss Run-Around-Without-A-Coat-in-Cold-Weather. Which is my Indian Name, apparently.



The sun trying to come out on one side, the dark rain clouds ready for a throw down on the other.







Stephanie, looking out a little peep-hole thingy at Alcatraz.





Right here, this precise picture, is where my lens broke. Damnedest thing. I had been taking photos, just like normal, when I heard this odd little click. Strange, I thought. Oh well. And then I took this picture. And just as I heard the shutter snap, the front part of my lens popped off and hit the floor. The back part of my lens remained attached to my camera's body. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what would cause this to happen. I took the lens to my uncle this past weekend, and after poking and prodding it for the better part of an hour, trying to snap it back into place, we declared it a loss cause. I need to buy a new one. Goodbye, 50mm lens. I loved you much. Thanks for all the swell photos.





The rest of the photos can be seen here. Big thanks goes out to Stephanie for prodding my ass to the other side of the continent, and for such a fun time.

Turkey is in the hizz-ouse!

Ahhhh....

How relaxing to be at home, cuddled up, drinking copious amounts of coffee, enjoying time with the fam. The house is filled with lovely smells, lots of onion and sage. In about 20 minutes we're going to depart for my aunt's house where we will feast, drink, feast, snooze, play music, laugh, feast, chat, feast, play games, and feast. It's going to be a good day.

There are two small dampers on our Thanksgiving, though -- my brother is ill (he's hacking and coughing on the couch as I type this, yet he's in good spirits) and for the first year ever my cousin Sean will not be with us as he is in Ireland at University of Limerick becoming an Irish music rock star. I feel so bad for Sean at this moment, because while I know he's enjoying school and having fun bashing around Ireland, I imagine he must be quite homesick today. Thanksgiving is such a significant holiday for my family. I can't remember a time when we haven't been all together, enjoying one another's company and acting crazy. Certain traditions center around Sean specifically too (my Uncle Mike always snatches something from his plate, the music sessions post-dinner), I know we'll be feeling his absence.

Wherever you are and whoever you are with, I hope you have a happy delicious day.

Midterm KILL ME

I managed to hand in my midterm complete and on time, although the jury is still out regarding my grade. Despite everyone comforting me and assuring me that they're sure I did fine, I'm concerned. This was some serious academic writing, and I would have enjoyed having more time to refine and clarify my statements. I'm sort of kicking myself for waiting so long to begin the process, but looking back, I'm not sure how I could have begun any sooner.

I've been struggling in this class from the very beginning. Critical Theory is not my forte, obviously. I've had a good deal of trouble comprehending the readings, and while I've been able to regurgitate the concepts, I've been unable to free-think my way through them. It wasn't until two weeks ago during class when lightening struck my brain and I was able to respond intelligently to a question posed by our teacher. The room fell silent as we all pondered the connection between Lacan and Hegel. Like a switch being flipped on and the room being flooded with light I suddenly saw it, I became so elated I clapped my hands and called out, "OH! I GET IT!"

I rattled out an answer and sounded so dead clever, I impressed myself.

A week later I received an email from my teacher asking if my epiphany in class would be my topic for my midterm. I laughed out loud. No bloody way I was writing about Hegel. Hate that fucker.

First of all, he's Out There. Second, no one reads him because his writing is so dense and impossible. Not helping is that it's been translated from damn German. Of course we had to not only read stuff written on Hegel's theories, we had to read the bugger ourselves. This led to about 40 aneurysms, 13 strokes, 9 temper tantrums and 4 crying jags. All by me. Take this passage, for example:

"Rather, the thing, the fact, is; and it is merely because it is. It is--that is the essential point for sense-knowledge, and that bare fact of being, that simple immediacy, constitutes its truth."

SERIOUSLY. Dear Hegel: Please find another verb besides "is." Also, what the hell you talking about? No love, 8K.

So yeah. When it came time to think of midterm topics, I made a broad statement to the two classmates I share a table with. "Under no circumstances am I writing about Hegel. I'm not that insane." My classmates, who thankfully seem to be just as lost as I am, nodded in agreement. To undertake Hegel is madness.

But as the days slipped by, I couldn't deny that the link between Hegel and Lacan was one of the few topics I could expound upon with any degree of certainty. But now I needed to apply that link to something.

"You should write about Doctor Who," Stephanie told me with a grin.

"Oh, I wish. But I can't. I need to apply it to Literature or Art or something."

But, the more I thought about Hegel and Lacan, the more I saw that Doctor Who was really an ideal example. Hegel's cognitive beings being robbed of the Now, for example. How can you have a Now when you're in a time machine? The Sliveen, Daleks, and Cybermen being the contradictions expelled along the Doctor's dialectical struggle. The Doctor's loss of his home planet and his people, an example of Lacan's loss of the Real. It was all making sense in my head. So I asked for permission from my teacher. Being a fan of Buffy, she understood dorky TV shows and agreed.

So yes, I wrote about Doctor Who for my midterm. Shut up.

SHUT UP, I say.

Here was my title: "How Soon is Now? Hegelian Philosophy, Lacanian Psychoanalysis and the Realm of Doctor Who." (I hope I get bonus points for The Smiths reference!)

Hours after finalizing my paper's topic I discovered via a LiveJournal Doctor Who community that a Doctor Who Symposium has just been announced for next fall at the University of Cardiff, as part of the celebration of the show's 45th anniversary. They'll be accepting papers shortly after the new year.

I've decided that this is an omen.

For better or worse, no matter what my grade, I'm going to refine, expand, and polish that paper and submit it to the symposium. Stephanie has already signed up to be my lady in waiting and travel with me. I am accepting one other lady in waiting, applications may be submitted directly to me (I'm looking at you, Renee).

Anyway. I pulled an all-nighter to get my paper completed, something I hope to never do again. I'm knackered. I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears. I have a field trip to the art museum with my Visual Literacy class tomorrow (where I have to give a small presentation) and then I have a blissful week off for Thanksgiving.

Of course, after Thanksgiving I have to begin working on my Critical Theory final. But as Scarlett O'Hara would say, I won't think about that now. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Jigsaw falling into place

OK, I need you all to think some amazing academic thoughts about me tonight, as I work on the final push of my midterm paper.

The good news is I finally have a topic, a title, and a cobbled-together thesis. The bad news is that my thesis needs to be more fluid, my transitions suck, and I have, like, 11 more pages to write. And also? The subject matter is really fucking hard.


I want you to know that this midterm is a lot more than a midterm. I'll explain later, but know that if I pull this off (and more importantly pull it off well) this paper could possibly lead to some amazing opportunities and experiences for me. I don't want to say too much and jinx myself.

This is probably one of the most difficult things I've done in my academic career. I need your good thoughts, pink bubbles, and smart vibes. Send them my way.

DONE and DONE, bitches

OK, so the conference is over. I managed to come out unscathed. Everything got done in time, with the exception of the Blooper reel, which was technically done on time, but I was unable to burn it to DVD since the server had a complete mental break down on me and told me it would take me eleventy thousand hours. Which it didn't. WHATEVER, SERVER.

Anyway.

The response seems to be good, although I am skeptical in my thinking and believe that people are just being polite. The videos aren't as HA-HA funny this year, it's much more of an awkward funny (We did a spoof of The Office, so a lot of the jokes had a bit of a bitter twinge to them). Regardless, I apparently got an ovation at the conference (which I wasn't able to see since I was fighting with the DVD burner, SCREW YOU SERVER) and a bouquet of lovely tea roses was brought to me.

So, I think I am deserving of a night chilling out before I haul ass on my midterm, which OMG, is due in SIX DAYS.

If I make it through this next week, I'll be golden.

A Postcard from Editing Camp!

Greetings from Editing Camp! Activities include importing digital video, stringing clips together in a coherent fashion, and cursing yourself for procrastinating so long.

So far activities have been successful. Knock wood that it stays that way.

While Editing Camp is fun, there are other Camps I wish I could have attended this weekend. Drinking Camp. Chilling With Friends Camp. Making Out With Cute Boys Camp. Watching The Masterpiece Theater Version of Othello That I Borrowed From the Library Camp.

But Editing Camp is where I am, although I am spending some joint time in Drinking Too Much Coffee Camp. See you soon. Wish you were here.

Samhain

At Mabon, Tree flat-out asked me, "So are you going to become Pagan, or what?"

I wasn't sure how to answer her. I sort of laughed and told her that I didn't know. That I was learning a lot.

A few weeks later, I told the Doc about Tree's question and asked what he thought about it. "Well," began carefully, "I think you're a Catholic Pagan."

"A Catholic Pagan? Isn't that a bit contradictory?"

"You were raised Catholic, and your family is Catholic. So I don't thing that will ever leave you. You will always find comfort and familiarity there. But I think you're discovering the more Pagan parts of your vernacular."

This gave me some pause. Something that I turned over in my mind, a lot. When I repeated Doc's theory to Tree at a party recently, she laughed as I knew she would, but then she said something I didn't expect. "He never told me that. He told me that he thought that deep down you were a Pagan and that I should invite you to some rituals."

"What?!?"

She nodded and smiled, "Yeah."

"That sneaky little punk."

Samhain was an important ritual for me to attend. Not only because the ritual was being led by friends and I wanted to be there to support them. And not just because it was the Big One, the most sacred, the one everyone thinks of when they think of witches.

For the first time I truly and fully embraced the ritual. Not that I was holding back before, exactly.

But I was. Perhaps that Catholic side of me was hesitant. Something.

Friday night, I gave myself a lot of permission. I dressed with care. I bought special fabric, specifically for this ritual. I wove flowers through my hair. On the way to the ritual, the sun was setting deep and orange, kissing everything around me with a golden hue. And for a moment, it felt like it was all for me.

During the ritual, Hades encouraged us to open up. To remember that we are from the Gods, to look deep inside and find that spark of Divine, the one that is within us all, and kindle it.

What a fucking awesome concept.

Something that I think we all forget, no matter what our denomination or belief system. Christians say that we have been created in God's image and likeness. But then we weigh ourselves down with all our problems, sins, and shame. And we forget.

But I like this concept. That there is a spark of Divine in us all, a whisp of beautiful fire within. It shows itself in our kindness, creativity, love, talent. A part of us that we can link directly back to our creation. And to one another. Separate flames from the same fire. Beautiful.

Later, Hades and Hecate both asked us to look at what we had blocking that flame. Anger, sadness, stress, loss. And release it. Get rid of it. Cast it away. Hecate exclaimed, "Give it to me! I can take it!" And she did.

Later, post ritual, Nina told me, "You were crying."

"Yeah. I cried a lot. So did everyone around me." It was true. There was a great deal of tears at this ritual. Tears, sobbing, screaming, and moaning. Rather intense. I personally expelled a lot. I looked back to everything I had been through since last October -- and there's been a great deal -- and got rid of a lot of unnecessary shit. I'm no longer allowed to be angry or ashamed or sad about of any of it. It's done. It's gone.

And now that it's gone, really truly gone in that away place, I feel so much more relaxed. Chill. At ease. I could have danced forever Friday night. Joyful, wild, Pagan dancing.

So maybe I am. A Catholic Pagan Unitarian Peace Mission Quaker. And maybe I'm OK with that.

Titanerific and Bottastic!

You guys. I am SO EXCITED right now. Thanks to eagle-eyed Mike over at Renal Failure, I discovered two hugely fabulous things this morning.

1.) The new MST3K site that will be launched in a mere 2 days and which will be the new official site for the show as well as featuring weekly animated 'Bot stories.

AND

2.) Cinematic Titanic, which, yeah. Awesomeness to the 10th power.

This is so going to rule.

Yeah, Halloween was yesterday...

But I'm still in a spooky mood. We have far too much candy left over, the smell of fall is in the air, and we have two fat (uncarved) pumpkins in our kitchen.



Also, I'm not ready for it to be November yet. So there.