Yep, Still Bitchin'

Hi, I'm not a good mood. I don't really want to do this at the moment. My screenplay was shoved up my butt yesterday in class. Didn't get one positive piece of feedback. Not going to lie, I'm mad salty. Other students' got praised that I thought were, um, not good. I'm definitely not saying mine is awesome and other people's aren't—I just don't know what I'm doing wrong or how to correct it right now. It almost seems my professor is looking for scripts that are so obviously dramatic and over the top that they are ironically nuanced or something. Stupid. 

Whatever, moving on to weekend plans: 

- See "I Love You, Man"

- Go to the Farmer's Market to hopefully interview some local farmers about the slow food movement in Madison (my next story for reporting class)

- Applications for summer internships

- Look into various english-teaching programs in Thailand (do you think it's worth getting TEFL certified? I haven't decided yet.)

- Attempt to read for textile science. Another exam in a week. Punch in face. 

New favorite thing? "UNITED STATES OF TARA." It is the shit. Toni Collette is absolutely amazing, and I'm determined to make Diablo Cody my new best friend (I'm following her on Twitter, therefore a relationship is already budding). Her writing is so sharp and witty and fresh on the show. Can't get enough of it right now. 

Listen, I'll try to keep my whiny bitchisms to a minimum next time. Until then, sit up straight. 

-J. 

Correction from an earlier posting: I used a photo of Rachel Dratch for "Yeah, I farted. Jealous?" when in actuality, it should be Amy Poehler. My b. 

I know I'm Gonna Look Emo

Janky: inferior quality; held in low social regard; old and dilapidated, refers almost exclusively to inanimate material objects.  

We tried to pick up on these girls waiting for the bus, but I was driving my sister's janky 1989 Geo Metro so we just got clowned instead. 

Clearly, you all know "janky," but I just really love the word and plan to use it well into my late 30s. 

Week at home? Two words: Unproductively awesome. What did I do, what did I do... really I don't even know. A few highlights: Old Town on St. Patty's with some ladies, Munch exhibit at the Art Institute with my ma, "Kung Fu Panda", The Keg with Katie Fine, et al. (ridiculous but so good). 

Today, however, I spent seven hours cleaning my room. It was both grueling and refreshing on multiple levels. First, it was dirty and cluttered as shit, seeing that my room has become some sort of storage space. Second, I came across so many old memories—many of which I had long forgotten and felt strange revisiting... photos, mixes, notes from friends, sketches, gifts. I get weird about things I feel like I'm supposed to be sentimental about. But it was also kind of nice to remember what was important to me at those various stages. I did throw a lot of crap out though.

Get this: I was reading a journal entry from like junior year of HS, and it actually started with "Who am I?" My response to reading it was, "Seriously, who the hell am I because who the hell actually starts a journal entry with that?" 

Apparently, I'm Derek Zoolander.  

NOT NOW, TODD. I'M SO TIRED. 

I'm also in the process of trying to figure out my near future. Frankly, it's freaking me out. It feels like everyone around me has a rough idea of what they're doing/where they'll be. Not this chick. I know I'll be home for a while, but I still want to find something stimulating to do while making money, and right now I'm just not sure where to look. I mean, I have been looking and have a few things in mind, but everything feels so up in the air. I wish I could be that spontaneous, relaxed girl who manages to have adventures but eventually settles down with a solid gig. But that seems too fantastical. 

My dad always says your 20s are like "People's Parties" by Joni Mitchell. 

I'm just living on nerves and feelings

With a weak and a lazy mind,

And coming to people's parties

Fumbling deaf, dumb and blind.

I wish I had more sense of humor,

Keeping the sadness at bay,

Throwing the lightness one these things,

Laughing it all away.

Oh Joni, you just get it, don't you? 

Alright, angsty, insecure Julia is making this blog fun for no one right now. Better say goodnight. Goodnight. 

-J. 

Remember Salad Fingers?

Hubert Cumberdale: One of Salad Fingers' finger puppets. He tastes like soot and poo.

"Euch, Hubert Cumberdale! You taste like soot and poo." (crying)

I just saw this name on urbandictionary.com and was like "Woah, I know Hubert Cumberdale." Rachel and I would occasionally watch this together in high school then talk like him for the next half hour—what the hell was wrong with us?  

"I've got a fish cooking in the oven." 

Moving on, sorry for another hiatus. This past week was mildly hellish with ridiculous amounts of writing to do. But now I'm home for break, which isn't particularly exciting but I'm fine with it. At least I don't have to worry about getting shot in Acapulco. Suggestion: Don't buy drugs if you're in Mexico right now. 

My brother just walked into my room and messed up my bangs, saying "Oh, now you can't do your emo flip anymore, huh? Heh Heh." Ass. 

Two wonderful things: First, I just found my passport and social security card  in my room under a 1984 "Ghostbusters" cassette tape (no joke), which I couldn't find for the past month and had caused me great stress. I feared I had I accidently thrown them out and some strange woman had now stolen my identity and was racking up bad credit under my name. So, phew. 

Second, I've gotten really into "Flight of the Conchords" lately (yeah, I know, I jumped on the train late). But after a little online research on Jemaine Clement, I saw that he announced his account on Twitter. Obvi, I looked it up and started following him. He was being followed by over 5000 people and was only following about 8 at the time, which I assumed were only those dear to his heart. BUT the other day, my status was "Julia just wants Jemaine Clement to follow her back—is that so much to ask?" And guess fucking what? The next morning, I get a message from him: "Cheers," and he started following me. Man, I was so jazzed. My self-esteem has seriously gone up tenfold. 

By the way, do you know a Basenji is? I heard about them in Screenwriting the other day and kind of want one now. They are these dogs from Africa that don't bark but actually kind of yodel, which sounds awesome. This guy in my class goes, "Yeah, I have one at home. My mom's boyfriend gave it to us right before he went to jail." Awkward for the whole class. 

Silent but sassy.

Speaking of class, I had a current events quiz in Reporting on Thursday, and one of the questions was: What's the controversy between Jon Stewart and CNBC? Instead of writing Jim Cramer, I just wrote Kramer. 

Julia, you fail. 

Until then, don't confuse people in the news with dated Seinfeld characters. 

-J. 

A New Betty's In Town

Hentai

1. Japanese for "pervert." Literally "strange desires."

All of the hentai on the bus were looking at my boobs.

2. In American usage it more often refers to Japanese porn, especially in cartoons.

Hide the hentai, Mom's coming!

Hey you beautiful people reading this. First things first, stuff you really care about, like how my textile science exam went. The one I studied buttloads for. Well, perhaps I shouldn't say studied because that implies reviewing information I already knew... learning for hours would be more accurate. Anyway, I got a BC, which sadly I'm rather content with. It was pretty much the average grade.

Today my professor tried to demonstrate the process of texturizing fabric. As an example, he crumpled up two pieces of paper and vigorously rubbed them against his face. I thought it was hilarious and looked around the room for other smirks, but everyone was just nodding like "Uh huh, I get it now." Wtf? Well, I laughed.

Next on the agenda, watch this. It's funny: FDA Approves Depressant for Annoyingly Cheerful People I wish I knew how to directly embed videos, but I don't. Ben Stoler, teach me your ways.

Moving on, I got my hair cut. When I first told my stylist I wanted bangs, she said, "Hmm... I dont know. You have a very low hairline and a prominent jaw," aka I look like a raindrop with no forehead. Overall, I'm pleased with results.

However, my roommate told me I looked like a familiar cartoon character.

Thank you, Sarah.

And I'm when I go home, my brother is sure to refer to me as something he's dubbed me in the past.

Thank you in the future, Ben.

Alright, time to get back to my screenplay. This thing has become the bane of my existence. It was actually due today—and I was about 12 pages short plus it currently sucks—so I got an extension for Tuesday. I'm not sure how much better it'll be by then though. And this bout of warm weather just makes me want to go out. No, woman, FOCUS!

Well, until then, take your medicine.

-J.

Mehhh

Multislacking: Doing multiple slackeresque things concurrently. 

I'm the king of multislacking. I spend hours a day surfing the 'net, watching random TV shows, and eating week-old pizza. 

Greetings. Sorry for another virtual absence fueled by a general lack of life motivation. I've really screwed the pooch for next week. Thursday, the first draft of my 30-page screenplay is due. Next Tuesday, I have to turn in my reporting project on the Project HUGS initiative and also have a written Yoga midterm (harder than it sounds). Next Wednesday, 8-10 page analysis of the narrative structure of "Eternal Sunshine." Even though I chose this movie out of our list of options, I'm not even sure where to start with it. 

Omg, have you seen "Robocop"? We watched it in screening this week, and it is one of the most ridiculous things I've ever seen. But it was also kind of amazing. One of the bad guys drives into a crate of toxic waste and comes out with melted limbs, whispering "help me, help me." Then his accomplice hits him with a truck, splattering him all over the screen. 

The main villain—yes, that 

is the father from "That '70s Show." 

Moving on, I went to a bar with an '80s cover band last night. Apparently, I dared my roommate to flash the band on stage while we were front row, and she—who was farther along than me—pulls them out one by one. Shocked that she was actually doing it, I tried to hide her breasts but ended up with a handful of raw boobage. The guitarist watching all of this behind his dark aviators, bandana and mullet wig just smiled. It will probably be the crowning moment of his music career.   

In other insignificant news, I'm getting my herr did Wednesday. Bangs, baby, bangs, so I can look just like Katie Fine. It will be the highlight of my week, I'm sure. My life is wild. 

Until then, keep up the multislacking. 

-J. 

Quickly, Before the Fog Rolls In

Stanky Leg: A dance in which the dancer drops it will rotating one leg behind them. 

Hey everyone, Suzie is doing da Stanky Leg. 

Hi there. I'm gonna try to keep this short and sweet because I have a textile science exam to study for—fiber properties, finishing processes, and the textile industry in general. It's pretty terrible, but it's worth a third of my final grade so I'm forced to care. 

How absurd is it when professors advise you about preparing for a test, and all they say is "wear comfortable clothing, take a nap beforehand, and make sure you eat breakfast." Thank you, really, I appreciate that. 

In case you're curious or bored, I wrote a review of a film called "The Pool" today in The Cardinal: http://dailycardinal.com/article/22292. I haven't had anything published in a while so that was kind of cool.

How about them Oscars? Perhaps no one cares anymore because it's three days after the fact, but I was enjoyed the overall event. I watched Hugh Jackman on the Barbara Walters special before the ceremony, and I really wanted to like him after hearing all the stuff he went through. He even gave Barbara a lap dance, which was pleasant. But as a host, he made my eye twitch. Perhaps that's harsh, but I prefer the days of Billy Crystal... even Whoopi was superior. 

Please stop singing and dancing. 

Enough complaining for now. Until next time, stay dry. 

- J. 

Because bsto Told Me To

New Ageist: Used to describe individuals who discriminate against others who are not overly focused on self-improvement. Such people often look down on people who do not practice yoga, eat organic, and believe in energy fields.

My date last night was a disaster because the guy is completely New Ageist. He is seriously opposed to dating girls who are not into meditation and eating sprouts. 

'Ello 'ello on a Friday. Hope you all had a nice week. Mine was uneventful... actually it was kind of a FML week. I suddenly realized that I have a shit ton of school stuff coming up in the near future, none of which I have started. Good thing I did NOT spend my morning watching "White Chicks."

The scariest-looking Caucasian women I've ever laid my eyes on. 

So I've kind of lost interest in showering these days. I say "lost interest" because it makes it sound like a conscious decision, something I don't care for anymore, something I'm above. I'm above personal hygiene, you see. I used to shower so my hair looked decent, but in this unholy weather I can solve this problem by simply hiding in an oversized hat and scarf. No one has to see my unsightly locks and my potential stench is smothered from layers of clothing. It's a win-win situation, don't you agree? 

Speaking of clothes, I have a few fashion predictions for the upcoming season. First, big chunky wrap scarves/neck warmers that you can just twirl over your neck. 

Second: assymetrical earrings. Why haven't more women worn them in the past? I realize they come in pairs like shoes, but unlike feet it's not uncomfortable if they don't match. I noticed a lot of girls wearing them in Europe and thought it looked really cool. Different shapes, lengths, and colors can definitely add some whimsical flavor to your outfit. 

Third: Male facial hair. Now, I'm not sure if this qualifies as an accessory, but it's something you can change regularly to express your mood/style. If your face is capable of growing a beard, think of all the different, exciting looks you can pull off: 

 Stoic ironic hipster

Retro jokester 

Man's man/lazy ass dude

I may be one of the few girls who digs facial hair—it adds character and can highlight something about a personality. If my legs were on my face, I'd be quite the lady killer myself... woof. 

Alright, I've embarrassed myself enough for one day. Until then, don't lay a hand on a woman—that goes for you too CB. (Too soon?)

- J.