Massive Brain Dump (MBD™)
Aug. 4th, 2009 01:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grrgoylThis entry is going to be nothing but non sequiturs, random thoughts and notes to myself. A massive brain dump, if you will. So I'll cut for your skipping pleasure.
Dogs, dogs, dogs. Not what you think. There's actually some guy harassing Tery at the hospital, claiming the dogs are barking all night and he's going to get us shut down.
I never thought I'd take the dogs' side, but this guy is full of shit. A) The hospital has been in operation since 1968 and this is the first complaint. B) The hospital has been around since 1968. If you don't want to hear dogs barking, don't buy a house next to an animal hospital. C) I can't speak for J.'s shifts, but I can count on one hand the number of times a dog has barked outside on my watch in two years. In my experience, they're usually too busy sniffing other dogs' output and generally scoping out the strange surroundings to think of barking. D) As for barking inside, yeah that happens, but they're underground with all the windows shut. This guy must have superhero hearing if that's what's bothering him. E) There are other dogs in the neighborhood that I hear all the time. And I also know from experience that it is absolutely impossible to know for sure what direction or how far away they are. F) If he wants something to complain about, why doesn't he start with Little Mexico (aka Taco Junior) across the street? On the weekends they shut down at 3 am and all the customers flood into the streets, screaming, laughing, drag racing, low riding, stereos throbbing, alarms alarming -- I'd take dog barking over that anytime.
Tery preemptively called Animal Control about this guy. They said he was probably trying to sell his house or something, and Tery's side of the story was duly on record and not to worry. Also as we know from experience, it's not as simple as complaining and seeing instant action. He needs to document exact times of violations, as well as be able to identify the dog. Lots of luck with that. I guess we have it fairly easy in that Tracey's dogs are the only ones in the vicinity so there's never any question it's them.
Not that this has softened me up towards Tracey's little angels. Quite the contrary -- I passed her in the parking lot heading to and from our cars as the dogs were in full swing. Normally I would have made a token effort to smile at her, but with that ungodly racket in the background I was literally physically incapable of feigning even that tiny civility.
It's just...her idea of discipline is laughable. It's hardly surprising the dogs are so uncontrollable. I overheard her once on the walkway as they were unleashing the same fury at her they do on everyone else (except me. They respect me more than her?) Her response to their barrage was a quiet, slightly hurt and wholly ineffective "Hey? Hey?"
No. If your dogs were otherwise well-behaved, well-socialized obedient animals you could act taken aback and surprised that they're making such a disturbance. Not when it's an almost hourly occurrence and you have in fact been fined almost to the point of getting a lien on your home (and even attended a hearing with the city only a week ago) for exactly this behavior. Unless you've been completely high the entire time (which isn't impossible).
On a different occasion a guy was walking his dog past the building. Tracey's dog went absolutely batshit. I started screaming at it to shut up, there were other dogs around, just DEAL WITH IT. The guy apologized to me good-naturedly. I assured him it wasn't his fault, Tracey's dog was just an asshole. "You got that right!" he agreed. I wish Tracey had been home so she could hear it wasn't just us who hated her dog.
~*~
Speaking of the hospital, back when I first started J., the regular night woman, claimed it was haunted. I haven't seen much to support this and frankly, she's nice enough but after decades of living alone and working third shift alone, she's not exactly my first choice of someone to stick on a witness stand.
Until a few weekends ago. I was walking the dogs at one end of the hall. I happened to hear a door creaking shut at the opposite end -- they're all on those hydraulic no-slam devices so this wouldn't be unusual, except for the fact that I had been down at this end for at least fifteen minutes already, and hadn't actually opened a door for at least a few hours. And don't say a breeze because we keep the windows shut lest we become overrun with flies.
That was a little fucking creepy. I did my best to shrug it off. Then I was packing up getting ready to leave for the night when across the room a hose that comes up through the table by the dental station suddenly started flopping and dancing around. ON ITS OWN. As if someone was under the table moving it. Or as if something nearby was cycling its motor enough to vibrate it, except it was flipping back and forth really violently.
You know in horror movies when that sort of thing happens and the girl tiptoes closer, calling out "Is anyone there?" investigating just long enough to get killed? Uh uh. I said (to myself), "Okay, I don't know what THAT is, but I'm OUTTA HERE." I didn't run upstairs but I didn't look back either.
I told Tery about it the next day. She spoke to one of the techs, who confirmed that yes, it had been doing that lately, and no, no one could figure out why. She laughed at the thought of it happening while I was alone there. Might I add that I'm still waiting for a rational explanation.
~*~
I've noticed lately the house-hunting shows I used to love on HGTV have been depressing me, because I fantasize about buying a place out in the middle of nowhere far away from people. ALL people. And the fact is this just isn't going to happen, not now, not soon, maybe not ever.
So in response I've gone into serious nesting mode, trying to pretty up the place we have. Bought a new (to us) dinette set (Craigslist), furniture rearranged, wall artwork, total makeover for the balcony (wish I'd taken before/after pictures, it's so dramatic). If I didn't know better I'd wonder if I was pregnant (impossible, unless it's immaculate, and wouldn't THAT throw some Bible thumpers into a tizzy).
But it kills me that my hard work to create an oasis of peace and beauty can be destroyed with just one bark of that fucking dog. Or one neighbor who feels like sharing their "fresh beats" (our affectionate nickname for Reggie's music).
Speaking of house hunting programming, I saw two shows back to back. The first was a hoity-toity divorcee shopping for a million-dollar retirement home in Florida. "Well, I suppose the Travertine floor will HAVE to do..." Oh, she was SO snooty and SO picky. Every dream mansion had something wrong with it, according to her.
The second show featured a 50-something black woman, grandmother, single, who had spent 14 years struggling to get out of debt. Now she was finally ready to buy her first home. She and her friend looked at average, nondescript tract housing. They walked into a bathroom, nothing remarkable about it whatsoever -- white walls, standard fixtures. "Girl, this here will be my SANCTUARY!" she exclaimed excitedly.
Guess which one I loved more?
~*~
House cleaning one day, Tery stumbled onto a small sheaf of memo paper, the fragile beginnings of what would have been a very ambitious novel (if she had stayed with it).
She read it over once more (as you do), thinking it wasn't half bad and she might return to it. It was a stirring tale of young love, complex interpersonal relationships, and a college girl's inspirational journey to womanhood.
The last written line, however, was a bit jarring: It said "Note to self: Add a werewolf." She remembers sitting next to me on a plane once, making me read it, and I guess that was my creative suggestion. And I still say it was a damn good one. Who knows? She could have beaten Stephanie Meyers to the punch.
~*~
I've been strangely silent on the death of Michael Jackson. Was it the tragic snuffing out of a brightly burning star far too soon? Or the inevitable conclusion of a life of overindulgence and paying people to ignore his best interests? Live by the illegally prescribed surgical anesthetic, die by the illegally prescribed surgical anesthetic is what I always say.
All my sympathies to the Jackson family. He might have been a wonderful person, but he lived his life like a spoiled Wonka child.
~*~
Tery is watching "Big Brother," much to my consternation. I've decided the show represents the very worst of humanity: deceit, manipulation, betrayal, narcissism, melodrama. Watching 13 generally unlikeable people slowly turn on one another (and then have the nerve to act outraged when it happens when it is, in point of fact, the entire purpose of the game) in pursuit of a cash jackpot couldn't be further from my idea of entertainment. My cat has more morals than these people.
Tery says it's these things that draw her in; that it's a "train wreck." I'm sure this is the excuse used by Jerry Springer fans in the thousands.
The thing is, "Big Brother" is practically a lifestyle. Three hour-long regular episodes a week, plus "Big Brother After Dark" (three thrilling hours a night of the guests padding around the kitchen and lounging on beds chatting ENDLESSLY about the intricacies of the "alliances"), plus a 24-hour live feed online.
I would never tolerate a show making that kind of demands on my time. That's more time than Tery and I spend together in an average week. Yet here it is in season ELEVEN. I'm really, really worried about our society (although Jerry Springer has considerably more to do with that sentiment).
*~*
My neighbor J. has taken it into her head to deepen our friendship. Fortunately the dog-sitting request never panned out -- the breeder agreed to hold the dog until J. buys a house. Guess she noticed how my lips were saying "yes" but my eyes were saying "no, god, why me?"
Perhaps even worse, she's decided we should be work-out buddies. She has a 3-year membership that she hasn't used in 2 (I think she spends lots of money on things she doesn't use. Like a $150 cheese board she decided she had to have and has only used once. I suspect she justifies such frivolous spending because she offsets it with a career of complaining to companies for financial reimbursement. Sure, I bitch about the occasional substandard service for a meal coupon, but this woman needs computer software to keep track of the people she's complained to. She tried to enlist me in the struggle to stop one of her peeves: the landscaping company blows grass clippings onto her porch (she's on the ground floor). I can see where that is annoying, but I explained it would be kind of difficult, living on the third floor, for me to write that letter with any degree of sincerity. Thankfully she agreed. I'm busy enough trying to get the drug dealer out of our building. I can't take on all her petty causes as well.)
She's the one with the hugely cluttered house. Her "dining room" is literally a wall of STUFF. Can't even set foot in it. I stopped by to pick her up once. As I watched her trip over piles and kick things over with every step, I joked she should go on the show "Clean House." "Gee, thanks," she said somewhat snarkily. I guess because she knows where everything is (or claims to), regardless of how it looks to the casual visitor, she doesn't consider it to be the complete pigsty it actually is. (Then on a subsequent visit as I walked through the door, she remarked, "The mess is still here." Guess my offhand comment really stung.)
Anyway, as I was saying, having a buddy doesn't work for me (although Ryan wasn't bad). I do mainly weights, which don't lend themselves to socializing as easily as the ellipticals. Initially she said she just wanted someone to drag her through the front door and then I could do my own thing. This turned out to be a lie.
First she followed me to the sit-up machines. "How many do you do?" she asked me. I do 4 sets of 30, which sounds impressive if you haven't set foot in a gym in 2 years. I assured her she didn't have to keep up with me, but it was a bit awkward.
Then I said "Today's my leg day," assuming she was going to head for the treadmill and leave me alone. Not so. "I'll do legs with you!" What followed was a tiny nightmare of trying to pick machines next to each other so she could talk to me, except of course there were other people getting in the way of this plan, and then she started this "I don't want to do that one. Or that one." GRRRR. LADY.
I just like to listen to my iPod, do my thing, and do it alone. It occurs to me I belong to two of the most misunderstood social groups in existence: bisexuals (I want to sleep with everyone) and loners (I prefer not to be around anyone). (This doesn't cause me the conflict you would expect.)
With any luck she'll find a house soon (she's actively searching, though she's so picky it could take months) and go back on her promise to still come back to work out with me -- as if I'd be heartbroken to lose her.
~*~
Today I finally got to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince the way I had originally intended: in IMAX 3D. Well, sort of a rip-off, only the first 12 minutes are in 3D. Which is actually okay -- I was thrilled that Coraline came out in 3D on Blu-ray, but the reality was after an hour I had such a headache I had to switch it over to 2D (plus it jacked with the colors something terrible).
I've seen it once again already since the first time, downloaded online. Oh hush. You know damn well I'm buying the DVD (most likely Blu-ray) the day it comes out. No one is losing a dime on me. Perhaps being so familiar with the movie already is what helped remove some of the stress I complained about in my last post. So ironically this audience was much better behaved.
Behind us in line were two teenaged Asian girls, who asked us giddily if we'd seen it yet -- they hadn't and wanted to know how it was. They ended up sitting in front of us, and just knowing such big fans were there really enhanced my experience. I wondered the whole time what they were thinking, and regretted not asking them directly when it was over.
So, on my third viewing, I can now say that this is my favorite of the franchise. The story moves along so well that the 2-1/2 hours really fly by (my friend agreed she didn't notice the length at all). The score is the most haunting of them all -- the composer thankfully resisted the urge to use the classic (but rather childish) "Harry Potter theme," or rehash any of the music from the previous 5. But most of all, the movie is simply gorgeous to look at. The cinematographer has such credits as Amelie and Across the Universe on his resume. He has an eye for when the full obvious shot isn't necessary, rather just a small part to create a still life vignette to convey an emotion (like only the upper left corner of Dumbledore's dead face). He should make LJ icons for a living.
Either the audio was better in this theater or it was just a result of fewer distractions, but I could hear the dialogue a lot clearer. I noticed more little details, like the names on some of the Weasley products, more of the text in the Advanced Potion-Making book, and how when Dumbledore and Harry apparate to the sea cave, they leave a huge "CRACK!" echoing off the walls of the castle. The fangirl in me had a teeny tiny orgasm, I freely admit.
It will take a few more viewings before I'll be able to look at anything other than Snape in all of Rickman's scenes, however.
When it was over I asked my friend, as someone who hasn't read the books and doesn't know how it ends, her opinion on Snape. Her first response was "He turned evil!" But then I was proud of her when she started to have her doubts when she realized Snape wasn't actually hurting Harry in the duel at the end. And this time if she developed any harebrained theories about the characters, she managed to keep them to herself.
Dogs, dogs, dogs. Not what you think. There's actually some guy harassing Tery at the hospital, claiming the dogs are barking all night and he's going to get us shut down.
I never thought I'd take the dogs' side, but this guy is full of shit. A) The hospital has been in operation since 1968 and this is the first complaint. B) The hospital has been around since 1968. If you don't want to hear dogs barking, don't buy a house next to an animal hospital. C) I can't speak for J.'s shifts, but I can count on one hand the number of times a dog has barked outside on my watch in two years. In my experience, they're usually too busy sniffing other dogs' output and generally scoping out the strange surroundings to think of barking. D) As for barking inside, yeah that happens, but they're underground with all the windows shut. This guy must have superhero hearing if that's what's bothering him. E) There are other dogs in the neighborhood that I hear all the time. And I also know from experience that it is absolutely impossible to know for sure what direction or how far away they are. F) If he wants something to complain about, why doesn't he start with Little Mexico (aka Taco Junior) across the street? On the weekends they shut down at 3 am and all the customers flood into the streets, screaming, laughing, drag racing, low riding, stereos throbbing, alarms alarming -- I'd take dog barking over that anytime.
Tery preemptively called Animal Control about this guy. They said he was probably trying to sell his house or something, and Tery's side of the story was duly on record and not to worry. Also as we know from experience, it's not as simple as complaining and seeing instant action. He needs to document exact times of violations, as well as be able to identify the dog. Lots of luck with that. I guess we have it fairly easy in that Tracey's dogs are the only ones in the vicinity so there's never any question it's them.
Not that this has softened me up towards Tracey's little angels. Quite the contrary -- I passed her in the parking lot heading to and from our cars as the dogs were in full swing. Normally I would have made a token effort to smile at her, but with that ungodly racket in the background I was literally physically incapable of feigning even that tiny civility.
It's just...her idea of discipline is laughable. It's hardly surprising the dogs are so uncontrollable. I overheard her once on the walkway as they were unleashing the same fury at her they do on everyone else (except me. They respect me more than her?) Her response to their barrage was a quiet, slightly hurt and wholly ineffective "Hey? Hey?"
No. If your dogs were otherwise well-behaved, well-socialized obedient animals you could act taken aback and surprised that they're making such a disturbance. Not when it's an almost hourly occurrence and you have in fact been fined almost to the point of getting a lien on your home (and even attended a hearing with the city only a week ago) for exactly this behavior. Unless you've been completely high the entire time (which isn't impossible).
On a different occasion a guy was walking his dog past the building. Tracey's dog went absolutely batshit. I started screaming at it to shut up, there were other dogs around, just DEAL WITH IT. The guy apologized to me good-naturedly. I assured him it wasn't his fault, Tracey's dog was just an asshole. "You got that right!" he agreed. I wish Tracey had been home so she could hear it wasn't just us who hated her dog.
~*~
Speaking of the hospital, back when I first started J., the regular night woman, claimed it was haunted. I haven't seen much to support this and frankly, she's nice enough but after decades of living alone and working third shift alone, she's not exactly my first choice of someone to stick on a witness stand.
Until a few weekends ago. I was walking the dogs at one end of the hall. I happened to hear a door creaking shut at the opposite end -- they're all on those hydraulic no-slam devices so this wouldn't be unusual, except for the fact that I had been down at this end for at least fifteen minutes already, and hadn't actually opened a door for at least a few hours. And don't say a breeze because we keep the windows shut lest we become overrun with flies.
That was a little fucking creepy. I did my best to shrug it off. Then I was packing up getting ready to leave for the night when across the room a hose that comes up through the table by the dental station suddenly started flopping and dancing around. ON ITS OWN. As if someone was under the table moving it. Or as if something nearby was cycling its motor enough to vibrate it, except it was flipping back and forth really violently.
You know in horror movies when that sort of thing happens and the girl tiptoes closer, calling out "Is anyone there?" investigating just long enough to get killed? Uh uh. I said (to myself), "Okay, I don't know what THAT is, but I'm OUTTA HERE." I didn't run upstairs but I didn't look back either.
I told Tery about it the next day. She spoke to one of the techs, who confirmed that yes, it had been doing that lately, and no, no one could figure out why. She laughed at the thought of it happening while I was alone there. Might I add that I'm still waiting for a rational explanation.
~*~
I've noticed lately the house-hunting shows I used to love on HGTV have been depressing me, because I fantasize about buying a place out in the middle of nowhere far away from people. ALL people. And the fact is this just isn't going to happen, not now, not soon, maybe not ever.
So in response I've gone into serious nesting mode, trying to pretty up the place we have. Bought a new (to us) dinette set (Craigslist), furniture rearranged, wall artwork, total makeover for the balcony (wish I'd taken before/after pictures, it's so dramatic). If I didn't know better I'd wonder if I was pregnant (impossible, unless it's immaculate, and wouldn't THAT throw some Bible thumpers into a tizzy).
But it kills me that my hard work to create an oasis of peace and beauty can be destroyed with just one bark of that fucking dog. Or one neighbor who feels like sharing their "fresh beats" (our affectionate nickname for Reggie's music).
Speaking of house hunting programming, I saw two shows back to back. The first was a hoity-toity divorcee shopping for a million-dollar retirement home in Florida. "Well, I suppose the Travertine floor will HAVE to do..." Oh, she was SO snooty and SO picky. Every dream mansion had something wrong with it, according to her.
The second show featured a 50-something black woman, grandmother, single, who had spent 14 years struggling to get out of debt. Now she was finally ready to buy her first home. She and her friend looked at average, nondescript tract housing. They walked into a bathroom, nothing remarkable about it whatsoever -- white walls, standard fixtures. "Girl, this here will be my SANCTUARY!" she exclaimed excitedly.
Guess which one I loved more?
~*~
House cleaning one day, Tery stumbled onto a small sheaf of memo paper, the fragile beginnings of what would have been a very ambitious novel (if she had stayed with it).
She read it over once more (as you do), thinking it wasn't half bad and she might return to it. It was a stirring tale of young love, complex interpersonal relationships, and a college girl's inspirational journey to womanhood.
The last written line, however, was a bit jarring: It said "Note to self: Add a werewolf." She remembers sitting next to me on a plane once, making me read it, and I guess that was my creative suggestion. And I still say it was a damn good one. Who knows? She could have beaten Stephanie Meyers to the punch.
~*~
I've been strangely silent on the death of Michael Jackson. Was it the tragic snuffing out of a brightly burning star far too soon? Or the inevitable conclusion of a life of overindulgence and paying people to ignore his best interests? Live by the illegally prescribed surgical anesthetic, die by the illegally prescribed surgical anesthetic is what I always say.
All my sympathies to the Jackson family. He might have been a wonderful person, but he lived his life like a spoiled Wonka child.
~*~
Tery is watching "Big Brother," much to my consternation. I've decided the show represents the very worst of humanity: deceit, manipulation, betrayal, narcissism, melodrama. Watching 13 generally unlikeable people slowly turn on one another (and then have the nerve to act outraged when it happens when it is, in point of fact, the entire purpose of the game) in pursuit of a cash jackpot couldn't be further from my idea of entertainment. My cat has more morals than these people.
Tery says it's these things that draw her in; that it's a "train wreck." I'm sure this is the excuse used by Jerry Springer fans in the thousands.
The thing is, "Big Brother" is practically a lifestyle. Three hour-long regular episodes a week, plus "Big Brother After Dark" (three thrilling hours a night of the guests padding around the kitchen and lounging on beds chatting ENDLESSLY about the intricacies of the "alliances"), plus a 24-hour live feed online.
I would never tolerate a show making that kind of demands on my time. That's more time than Tery and I spend together in an average week. Yet here it is in season ELEVEN. I'm really, really worried about our society (although Jerry Springer has considerably more to do with that sentiment).
*~*
My neighbor J. has taken it into her head to deepen our friendship. Fortunately the dog-sitting request never panned out -- the breeder agreed to hold the dog until J. buys a house. Guess she noticed how my lips were saying "yes" but my eyes were saying "no, god, why me?"
Perhaps even worse, she's decided we should be work-out buddies. She has a 3-year membership that she hasn't used in 2 (I think she spends lots of money on things she doesn't use. Like a $150 cheese board she decided she had to have and has only used once. I suspect she justifies such frivolous spending because she offsets it with a career of complaining to companies for financial reimbursement. Sure, I bitch about the occasional substandard service for a meal coupon, but this woman needs computer software to keep track of the people she's complained to. She tried to enlist me in the struggle to stop one of her peeves: the landscaping company blows grass clippings onto her porch (she's on the ground floor). I can see where that is annoying, but I explained it would be kind of difficult, living on the third floor, for me to write that letter with any degree of sincerity. Thankfully she agreed. I'm busy enough trying to get the drug dealer out of our building. I can't take on all her petty causes as well.)
She's the one with the hugely cluttered house. Her "dining room" is literally a wall of STUFF. Can't even set foot in it. I stopped by to pick her up once. As I watched her trip over piles and kick things over with every step, I joked she should go on the show "Clean House." "Gee, thanks," she said somewhat snarkily. I guess because she knows where everything is (or claims to), regardless of how it looks to the casual visitor, she doesn't consider it to be the complete pigsty it actually is. (Then on a subsequent visit as I walked through the door, she remarked, "The mess is still here." Guess my offhand comment really stung.)
Anyway, as I was saying, having a buddy doesn't work for me (although Ryan wasn't bad). I do mainly weights, which don't lend themselves to socializing as easily as the ellipticals. Initially she said she just wanted someone to drag her through the front door and then I could do my own thing. This turned out to be a lie.
First she followed me to the sit-up machines. "How many do you do?" she asked me. I do 4 sets of 30, which sounds impressive if you haven't set foot in a gym in 2 years. I assured her she didn't have to keep up with me, but it was a bit awkward.
Then I said "Today's my leg day," assuming she was going to head for the treadmill and leave me alone. Not so. "I'll do legs with you!" What followed was a tiny nightmare of trying to pick machines next to each other so she could talk to me, except of course there were other people getting in the way of this plan, and then she started this "I don't want to do that one. Or that one." GRRRR. LADY.
I just like to listen to my iPod, do my thing, and do it alone. It occurs to me I belong to two of the most misunderstood social groups in existence: bisexuals (I want to sleep with everyone) and loners (I prefer not to be around anyone). (This doesn't cause me the conflict you would expect.)
With any luck she'll find a house soon (she's actively searching, though she's so picky it could take months) and go back on her promise to still come back to work out with me -- as if I'd be heartbroken to lose her.
~*~
Today I finally got to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince the way I had originally intended: in IMAX 3D. Well, sort of a rip-off, only the first 12 minutes are in 3D. Which is actually okay -- I was thrilled that Coraline came out in 3D on Blu-ray, but the reality was after an hour I had such a headache I had to switch it over to 2D (plus it jacked with the colors something terrible).
I've seen it once again already since the first time, downloaded online. Oh hush. You know damn well I'm buying the DVD (most likely Blu-ray) the day it comes out. No one is losing a dime on me. Perhaps being so familiar with the movie already is what helped remove some of the stress I complained about in my last post. So ironically this audience was much better behaved.
Behind us in line were two teenaged Asian girls, who asked us giddily if we'd seen it yet -- they hadn't and wanted to know how it was. They ended up sitting in front of us, and just knowing such big fans were there really enhanced my experience. I wondered the whole time what they were thinking, and regretted not asking them directly when it was over.
So, on my third viewing, I can now say that this is my favorite of the franchise. The story moves along so well that the 2-1/2 hours really fly by (my friend agreed she didn't notice the length at all). The score is the most haunting of them all -- the composer thankfully resisted the urge to use the classic (but rather childish) "Harry Potter theme," or rehash any of the music from the previous 5. But most of all, the movie is simply gorgeous to look at. The cinematographer has such credits as Amelie and Across the Universe on his resume. He has an eye for when the full obvious shot isn't necessary, rather just a small part to create a still life vignette to convey an emotion (like only the upper left corner of Dumbledore's dead face). He should make LJ icons for a living.
Either the audio was better in this theater or it was just a result of fewer distractions, but I could hear the dialogue a lot clearer. I noticed more little details, like the names on some of the Weasley products, more of the text in the Advanced Potion-Making book, and how when Dumbledore and Harry apparate to the sea cave, they leave a huge "CRACK!" echoing off the walls of the castle. The fangirl in me had a teeny tiny orgasm, I freely admit.
It will take a few more viewings before I'll be able to look at anything other than Snape in all of Rickman's scenes, however.
When it was over I asked my friend, as someone who hasn't read the books and doesn't know how it ends, her opinion on Snape. Her first response was "He turned evil!" But then I was proud of her when she started to have her doubts when she realized Snape wasn't actually hurting Harry in the duel at the end. And this time if she developed any harebrained theories about the characters, she managed to keep them to herself.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-08-04 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-04 09:51 pm (UTC)Hey, I whine incessantly
Date: 2009-08-05 07:38 pm (UTC)Every morning around 7am I can hear, from inside my own closed house, the barking of the neighbors' dog from inside their closed house. I assume she starts barking when they leave for work or school or whatever. It doesn't really bug me that much, I just wonder if I should tell them that their dog makes a fuss and maybe needs some prozac.
At our old apt in ATL the Cooter family next door had some ol' big ass dawg that would bark loudly at anyone and everyone. One evening we were in our yard and the dawg started in and R.O. turned around and yelled as loudly as possible, "SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!" and didn't see that the Cooters were all out there lounging in their car parts and lawn chairs. They thought it was all HEE-sterical.
specters...
I was ready to poo-poo you until that hose thing! :::scream!:: Although I do think it unlikely that just now, after all this time, the ghost is finally waggling tubing at you, I am very interested to hear the actual explanation. Air in the hose? It connects through a wall and a ratty is chewing on it? Hmmm.... and ::scream!::
add werewolf...
ROFL!
Re: Hey, I whine incessantly
Date: 2009-08-06 04:42 pm (UTC)Stupid Jawja rednecks. I would have shot the dog, then see if they laughed.
Dogs are perfect little angels (mostly) when their owners are home. It's only when they leave that the rest of us get to endure the needy, clingy afermath. Our neighbors who we like have a very nice dog, who howls constantly on the rare occasions they leave him alone. They don't believe us when we tell them.
Maybe it's a shy ghost. I'm still more nervous about human intruders. I'll let you know if the mystery is ever solved!
Werewolves...
Date: 2009-08-05 10:05 pm (UTC)In fact, let's all make it our mission to go into the nearest bookstore, slide along to the Bible section, open up the first page of the nearest Bible, pull out a fresh HB and scribble it in, under the title. If you stay in a hotel room with one of those Gideon Bibles on the bedside table, do the same - oh, and stick it in the margin during the Garden of Gethsemane scenes in the Gospels.
Re: Werewolves...
Date: 2009-08-06 04:12 pm (UTC)- OFB
Re: Werewolves...
Date: 2009-08-06 05:22 pm (UTC)If nothing else this episode reminds me how much Tery indulged me at the beginning of our relationship. If this happened today she'd just roll her eyes, or more likely tune me out completely.
The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-08-07 08:40 pm (UTC)Imagine if there was a ghost court, with a ghost judge and a ghost jury and a ghost lawyer asking the woman who had your job before you to point out the ghost culprit, only - hello! - she can't, and anyway she's not a very reliable witness, so that damn ghost criminal is sent back out to hover above the streets and mess with somebody else's hose. And people would file out of the ghost court, and one of them might mutter, "The incorporeal legal system today! I tell you what, back in my day he would've been sucked into a vacuum cleaner for a crime like that." And someone else might say, "Oh, grandpa! Kids these days are messing around with hoses all the time. It's not like when you were a kid, when ghost dinosaurs roamed the earth and people thought the only way to haunt the living was to wear sheets and make moaning noises."
Count me in on the AAW campaign. You should save this anecdote, because when Tery's book gets really big and she becomes rich and famous "Add A Werewolf" will make a fun biography title.
Big Brother's run time has nothing on American Idol. That shows, what, three times a week? And at least one of those is always a 'clips' show.
The nerve of some people, insinuating themselves into your life, camping out in the space next to you which is clearly reserved for Nobody, and draining away your limited social energy! (That sentence could be read as sarcastic, but I really mean it. I'm a loner too, and it frustrates me to no end that most people just do not understand how someone could want to go through their routine without company. ) With your luck, she'll find a house a block away from you and you'll be stuck with a gym partner for life.
I don't understand how they came to the decision that there would only be 12 minutes of Blu-Ray, precisely. The first quarter hour didn't have the best special effects in the whole film.
I can't wait until JKR beings out the HBP Potions book, complete with little notes in the margins. You know it will happen.
Re: The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-08-11 06:39 pm (UTC)I futzed with my layout a great deal before realizing I can't possibly anticipate how it will look on every screen in
Americathe world (almost forgot JeffyJeff!), so I can only please myself. I don't look at it on my own phone since I only use it for internet at work and, surprisingly, the signal ain't that great in the hospital basement.Your ghost story amused me greatly. I suppose it can do far worse things than shake a hose. Have you seen "A Haunting in Connecticut"? EEEK.
"Add a Werewolf" might also work for a band name. If only I knew then what diverse uses it would have, I'd already be all over it. Searching for LJ user name now. (UPDATE: Free for the taking! Except I can't stand using underscores.)
Oh dear oh dear. Did you see where I said BB has a 24-hour live feed? Versus AI's 3 times a week. What kind of math do they teach you kids these days?
Srsly. I certainly hope she isn't volunteering out of pity or something. It's hard to explain to people you're really fine alone without it being taken the wrong way (you probably know this). Fortunately she seems hellbent on finding something within a mile of her school (which is nowhere near here).
Maybe they planned it to be feature-length, then at 12 minutes the accountants dashed to the set in a panic, waving their arms furiously, yelling, "Hold it! Hold it! We missed a decimel point! WE CAN'T AFFORD TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF 3D!!" (one of the extras on "Coraline" was a demonstration of how they film in 3D. Do you care? They explained how each of our eyes see objects from slightly different angles, so to capture both angles they built a track for the camera so on every shot it slides back and forth, taking two frames of the same thing. Then it's all put together to create the 3D. Cool, huh?)
I agree, if you can only have 12 minutes, perhaps the cave scene with Dumbledore might have been far more appropriate.
I hate to admit it, but I would TOTALLY buy that book (and spend twice as much if they got Rickman to do the handwriting (some on my F-list wondered if he provided it for the movie)).
Re: The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-08-28 03:53 am (UTC)I have seen "A Haunting in Connecticut", yes. I thought it was suitably freaky until it took a turn towards the preachy ending where, I don't know, they're all saved by an angel or something. Traditionally (or, in the tradition of horror movies) the boy would just die in the fire, but I guess the movie people had to keep it as close to the "truth" as possible.
Who needs underscores?
What kind of math do they teach you kids these days? Thank all the inept government officials there ever were, I came in right under the math wire. Unlike current students in Michigan I was only required to take the basic math classes for two years. Those mostly consisted of a + b = c equations and cutting out paper triangles.
I'm sure AI has a live feed somewhere, though. Do you have one tv on at all time that displays this BB feed? You should. Tery might miss something. If I BB contestant snores and no one is there to hear it, did they really snore at all?
I do care about the making of 3D - I might buy that video just for that.
Hell, even the Quidditch try-outs would've been a better use of the 3D budget.
Don't feel embarrassed, you're talking to someone who almost bought the Sunnydale High Yearbook but, upon deciding not to waste the money, ended up reading the whole thing in the bookstore instead.
Re: The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-09-03 03:09 pm (UTC)Anyhoo, yeah, I didn't like the ending of "Haunting" either. Nor did I like the superfake CGI seance scenes, though I can't imagine how they would have done that practically.
Who needs underscores? addawerewolf isn't confusing enough to call for them. My worry would be that lonely rpg-ers would mistake it for an "add me" community. Think of the amount of friends you'd make named remus_lupin or (here's a reference you'll pretend not to get) jacob_black.
LOL I hadn't thought about. Jacob who? ; ) (reminds me: I've got a handful of EW mags with New Moon/Edward Cullen on the cover. They're a little worse for wear from sitting in my bathroom for a month, but would you like them? Or maybe just the relevant pages to save on shipping?)
Oh, how things have changed. I think I took 3 years of Spanish just because it was required to apply to college. Math was every year though (I remember finishing with Geometry just short of Calculus). Looks like you were a child George W. left behind.
She doesn't watch the live feed, but I do come back to my computer to find her favorite BB message board open an awful lot. Unfortunately she has mistaken my polite occasional watching of the show (because there's never anything else on) with a strong enough interest to merit late night breaking updates on who just backstabbed who. UGH.
THERE'S A SUNNYDALE HIGH YEARBOOK???? (j/k)
Re: The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-09-03 06:33 pm (UTC)You know I'd love to say, "No, don't send me any Twilight junk", but the answer is always yes. Why not just tear 'em out, fold 'em up, and send them in a white envelope? Speaking of postage, does your 'reading anything non-Snarry' embargo extend to Dan Savage books?
They told us that two years of languages would be required to get into college but that turned out to be a big fat lie. Not that I wouldn't have taken French anyway. We were require to take a year-long class that covered only the basics of French, Spanish, German, and Japanese in order to get into high school though. I took the required two years of math than opted out and took photography instead for the next two years. (You got SCREWED) That's probably why I got a horrendous score for math on my ACTs (it was either 19 or 21, I don't remember) which due to some trick of averages that I was obvs never taught only brought down my overall score by one or two numbers.
If there was a slash thread on that message board, you'd be all over it. :)
Re: The only good thing about new construction might be the low chance of the house being haunted.
Date: 2009-09-05 10:26 pm (UTC)