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Subject the First: Got to see X3. ( ::Cutting so I can spoiler to my heart's content:: )

In summary, "Last Stand"? Perhaps. Unless you stick around for the very important, very Holy! Shit! scene that comes after the credits. I'll admit I'd be a lot happier with a fourth chapter if only Storm had died in this one, cuz baby, I've had all the Storm I'm a'gonna take.

Not as good as 1 and 2, but I'll still be buying it (I may, however, find it easier to resist X-Men 3.5). 4 out of 5

Subject the Second, which is actually related to the First: I saw the movie with Rebecca, a co-worker I'm trying to trick into becoming my friend. We have a lot in common, taste in movies and books, loner tendencies, childhoods spent as outcasts and general disdain for most human beings. We certainly have a lot more in common than I do with MyFriendDeb, or even Tery, sad to say. I just want someone to hang out with sometimes, and I have to face the fact that Tery will never, ever enjoy watching the same movies I do. I informed Rebecca when I invited her that I was auditioning her to be my new best friend. She seemed pleased with the idea, although she is somewhat inscrutable. She had already seen X3 once and was willing to go again with me, so I guess that's saying something.

There were three people sitting in the back row of the theater when we arrived. We sat close to the center, and minutes later 6 more showed up and clustered around us in a tight little nucleus. WTF???? I asked her if we could move, as I saw no need to put up with being surrounded by people in an empty theater. She understood and agreed. This is why I think we'd get along so famously.

I enjoyed seeing it with her, especially the lengthy discussion we had in the car on the way home. This is exactly what I want sometimes -- just someone to talk to. We debated what would be the coolest mutant power to have. I personally ranked being able to remove Wolvie's belt with my mind as pretty damn high on the list. As I navigated rush hour traffic, I said my mutant power was being able to tell when someone wanted my lane (this is actually true. I predict it correctly so often I swear it's a sixth sense. And no, it's not just automatically assuming that EVERYONE does, you skeptics out there). I think she also enjoyed our talk because the first time she saw it with her brother (the co-worker mentioned in my review), who has read all the comics and tore the movie to shreds based on his excessive knowledge of the history. Fanboys, some advice: The rest of us mortals are not impressed that you know all this stuff. Like Becca said, she wanted to ask him why Xavier is in a wheelchair, but she was afraid she'd be subjected to an hour-long discourse about it. Sure enough, I worked with him last night and mentioned very casually that I liked the movie, and the conversation rapidly took a turn toward the waters of way-more-information-than-I-ever-needed.

Tery, ever the comedian, asked if I tried to hold Rebecca's hand during the movie (I didn't. I did let her eat the popcorn I brought home to Tery though).

Subject the Third: I think YouTube.com will be my undoing. I spend way too much time there. Tery often tells anyone who'll listen how much she admires my self-discipline, getting up and going to work at the computer every day. However, some days I'm definitely less admirable than others. A lot of factors go into my concentration level, like if I've worked the previous night or if I have to work that night, if I'm getting lots of difficult doctors who seem to be dictating in Arabic with their hand over the mouthpiece, or like lately if it's so fucking hot my monitor looks like a desert mirage. Or if there's a really good Judge Judy on. I just can't resist Judy when she gets so angry she's spitting. I've noticed that my workdays can be classified into three distraction levels, unimaginatively labeled:

Green: All systems go. The caffeine has entered my bloodstream, I've got a string of good reports and I'm so in the zone I forget there's such a thing as LJ or e-mail for up to an hour at a time. I hate to tear myself away even to feed the cats. Obviously my ideal work state (the cats might see it differently).

Amber: I'm getting work done, but I'm checking LJ and email every 15 minutes or so, perhaps reading a Snarry if it's short, or surfing for porn or new Snarry (or both. Bonus!) Usually I can make a comeback in the last couple hours of my day and no one's the wiser.

Red: Might as well not even bother punching in. I'm refreshing my LJ and email compulsively, reading chapter-length Snarry, making icons, downloading music, shopping eBay, updating my journal, calling my sister to catch up with the week since we last spoke; you get the picture. Fortunately days like these happen only when I'm very, very, very tired.

I believe it was a Red day when I started heavily using the YouTube. At first it was just to find fan-made Snarry videos, then fan-made Snape videos. I hadn't yet grasped the enormous possibilities of the site. There is so much stuff to watch there, practically anything you can think of. Funny European commercials, live concert footage, MTV music videos, even whole episodes of TV shows (I watched the pilot ep of Simon Pegg's "Spaced." Too cool).

It was YouTube who got me into my new quasi-favorite band, AFI (not TOTALLY obsessed. Yet). I had been reading jade1x2's Javey fics for months with only a passing interest, until I actually watched the band perform. Davey is sooo beautiful, and I could easily picture him with Jade. It was kind of weird though, like seeing old classmates suddenly becoming celebrities, I felt I knew them so well from the fics. I watched every video I could find (most of them many, many times), and even bought a CD thanks to all the exposure.

I discovered that YouTube is a double-edged sword, however, and some bands are better off as only a voice. At the risk of sounding shallow: VNV Nation's Ronan is a fat bald man. Was happier before knowing that. Wolfsheim's singer, an oily German, wasn't as much of a surprise. But OMG The Faint's lead singer? As much as I despise this tired phrase, 1985 called and it wants its hair back. GAH. Guess it's true what they say: If you're ugly, the only way you'll get chicks is to be a good singer.

I'm really not going anywhere with all this. Deal with it.