All Over the Place

Ghettiquette: Socially acceptable behavior in the ghetto. Good manners in a bad neighborhood.

It is considered good ghettiquette to pour out the first drink of your forty to honor your dead homies. It is considered bad ghettiquette to mess up the rotation. Puff, puff, pass.

Hello all, sorry if this entry seems really disjointed—it was written over a 5-day period. I start writing, then have to go somewhere or get distracted, you know how it is. The past week and has revolved around finally finishing my screenplay (hallelujah), applying for this arts and culture journalism scholarship (they only choose one writer, I'm not expecting anything) and thinking about "Jackie and Debra." On numerous occasions, I've laughed aloud in class by myself about it. I've also picked up her speech pattern, which is great.

"Let's plant a tree for Stephanie Berger!"

More highlights: FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS! I saw them at the Overture Center last Sunday night and they were friggin' awesome. Also awesome was Eugene Mirman who opened for them. "I was doing a book reading in Seattle when this kid with Aspergers stands up in the back row and yells 'bow down to me for I am your ruler!' And I responded, 'But I do bow down to you.' Because that's who god really is—a 12-year-old boy with high-functioning autism." It was funny, but maybe you had to be there.

I don't think Mel is crazy at all. If I was a stalker, these would be my types.

I took this Dreamweaver class last week so I can become a master of the Internet. We had barely learned anything yet and were just messing around with the features, when my skinny Abercrombie/Hollister-clad instructor flatly said, "If you really wanna look like a n00b, don't title your Web site." Like heaven forbid we don't title our Web site though you haven't even taught us how to make one yet. I laughed—again maybe you had to be there.

Mifflin was yesterday and although I did enjoy myself, I'm glad it's over. Day-drinking for eight hours is not something I handle well. And living on Mifflin is surprisingly stressful, especially when 17-year-olds townies try to enter your house and won't get off your porch. On top of the alcohol, I felt drunk with power kicking strangers off my property.

And no one dared fucking with me with this on.

Minus a few obnoxious guests and the puke under the kitchen table, the day was successful—beautiful weather, nothing stolen and no tickets. Woot Woot.

Now, I must work on my film paper comparing Pride and Prejudice of 1940 with the 2005 version. Oh Keira Knightley, despite your beauty I am still tempted to mess up your face. It's a weird feeling to know exactly what you have to do before you graduate in two weeks. Bah, let's just not think about it.

Until next time, title your Web sites.

-J.