Why I'm Going to Hell

Hasselhoffing: The act of changing a colleague's desktop wallpaper to display the manly physique of David Hasselhoff.

Dear God, man! I leave my workstation for a few moments to visit the big boys' room and you've Hasselhoffed me.

The other night, I was that irrational, angry girl at a bar. I thought this guy was whispering about me and laughing, then I could have sworn he said, "What the fuck are you, anyway? I commie?"

I flipped a shit.

In general, I don't think being called a communist is a big deal or even bad, but at that moment I felt like he was attacking my soul, and no other title could have upset me more. I ended up yelling that he didn't know anything about me and that he "had a very punchable face." He also happened to be cock-eyed, but I didn't say anything about that.

The next night, I was informed it was actually a glass eye he had, which he proceeded to take out after I left. Who screams at a partially-blind person? I do. And that was only the beginning of my ridiculously stupid eve, but I'll spare you the rest of it.

If he threw his eye at me, I would have shut up.

Another story: We watched Magnolia in screening the other night, which is one of my favorites, and you know at the end when it's raining frogs? The moment when the first frog hits the windshield, I felt something fall on my shoulder. I immediately brushed it off, then I swear I saw a giant cockroach on my knee. Once again, I flipped a shit. I started cursing under my breath and shaking my entire body. I tried to be discrete with all the other people around, but I was still a spaz in the dark. I should also point out we've had cockroaches in this theater before, so my vision was actually based in reality. I'm still worried one of them crawled into my purse then moved to my bed and has since laid eggs in my hair.

If asked what I did this weekend, my answer would have to be "flipped shits."
Thought: I feel bad for guys who come to my Zumba class. They probably just want a break from the weight room or basketball court, so they slip into what they think will be some harmless aerobics. Little do they know they are entering a room of full-on girl power. Besides all the shimmying and booty-shaking we do, we end each c

lass with a strip routine of "Man, I Feel Like a Woman." Sometimes I watch the one or two guys to see if they're actually trying to keep up or have just settled on staring at the gyrating ass in front of them. But usually, they really are trying.

Hating his life a little.

Moving on, I've been thinking about the idea of low versus high art lately, and how those lines can be blurred to mean something else. Quentin Tarantino, for example: He's considered an innovative, "post-modern" filmmaker... but why? If you individually look at all the different genres he references—kung fu, slasher, blaxploitation, western—along with his chart-topping soundtracks, it's hard to believe such mainstream, commercial and sort of dated subjects could blend together to create movies like his.

Chopping a guys' ear off is one thing, but having "Stuck in the Middle With You" playing in the background makes it something else. QT is the king of kitsch or, as my professor said, "cheese." Somehow he manages to transform what many audiences would typically scoff at into a product worthy of glorification.

I think Girl Talk and Andy Warhol are also artistic figures who have done this—celebrating and intellectualizing unlikely, everyday things... whether it's Brillo boxes or Lil Jon. All three use existing elements, so does that make their work unoriginal or even more original because of it? I suppose parodic irony like this is nothing new, but it seems worth examining in terms of "what makes art" and how to appreciate it. I'm not sure what I'm arguing here, but it's been on my mind.

Katie Fine, I bet you have this game. Lets play it soon.

Anywho, productivity, or something like it, is calling. Until then, carpe diem (it is 420 after all).

-J.

Look at Me, I Be Bloggin'!

Eleventy billion: A made-up number Keanu Reeves decided to bet for final Jeopardy on SNL.

Keanu: I bet eleventy billion dollars.

Alex Trebek: That's not even a real number. 

Keanu: Yet! 

Sorry I've been so...

Get it? Cuz she's M.I.A. Yeah, I'm way clever. I've decided to stop writing frequently because it creates expectations. And at this very moment in my life, I feel any expectations of me would be in vain. But I'm here now, so let us catch up. 

The past two weeks have revolved around me reminding myself I still have school work and trying to figure out what's next. Between half-hearted papers and presentations, I'm in the process of applying to 'ships (internships, fellowships, etc.). Or more like PIRATE SHIPS! 

Hm... too soon? I mean, he is safe now. 

Still, the general plan is to be home for a while, make some money doing whatever I can for a few months, then PERHAPS (it's a big perhaps) teach English abroad beginning in the fall or winter. If I've talked to you about this before, you may remember an interest in Thailand. I have a feeling, however, the 'rents aren't going to love the idea with all the recent craziness going on there. Only time will tell.

The weekend before last was the Wisconsin Film Fest. I saw some good docs, like Art & Copy and Food, Inc. and talked to some cool people in the industry. I won't lie—I felt mildly substantial when I met the editor of Anvil!, who was in town promoting the movie, and told him I saw it over the summer and wrote its film description for the Chicago Film Fest. He was really down to earth and friendly, and a UW alumni himself. What's sweet about film fests is that the actual filmmakers and people behind them seem so accessible; a lot of the time, you can talk to them yourself. I actually asked the editor if he twittered, but he kind of just looked at me funny and gave me a slow "nooooo..." 

Time for the segment I call "Movies I've Watched Recently" 

This picture is completely irrelevant, but Will Ferrell as 

James Lipton continually blows my mind. 

Jackie Brown - Probably one of Tarantino's lesser-known films. Entertaining, but too long and Robert DeNiro makes me feel dirty in it. Pam Grier is one sassy lady though, I like her. 

Coffee & Cigarettes - Awesome vignettes of all kinds of famous people talking over... coffee and cigarettes. 

Twilight - Best part: Bella walks into the classroom and sees Edward for the first time. A fan blows her hair in her face, and a paper under Edward's hand flies up. Their eyes meet. He makes a face like he just jizzed/shat his pants. Amazing. I looked for a clip but couldn't find one, so you have to see it for yourself. 

The Matrix - Clearly, I've seen this before but probably not in like four years. I was reminded of what an epic movie it is. Besides just being totally B.A., there's so much stuff going on (technology, virtual reality, religion, philosophy). My professor talked about this book "Taking the Red Pill" that I really want to read now. I know 10 years is not long ago, but it's still kind of unbelievable that special effects could look like that back then. 

We're watching Magnolia in screening on Thursday, which I'm pumped for because it's awesome and the soundtrack is flawless. 

I'll end this blog with my highlight of the day: Two seemingly drunk, homeless BFFs loudly arguing in front of my house.

"Mufucka, you got the stankiest ass I know!" 

"Bitch, I wash my ass!"

"You son-of-a bitch."

Until next time, keep up the hygiene (like I should talk). 

- J.

Sidenote: How full circle did my entry come involving Keanu and Will Ferrell? The last thing I did was look for a new urban phrase, and I just stumbled across eleventy billion. I love perfect things like that. 

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.