March 2004
Hoo-ow, I did stuff….
….and on a week day, no less! On Teusday night, I went to see Starsky & Hutch. It wasn’t especially good, there were only a few funny scenes. I suppose if I actually knew more about the 1970′s or whatever era it took place in, I probably would have understood the humor a bit more.
On the way back from the movies, I begged my parents to take me to Blockbuster to buy Mona Lisa Smile. They did. Despite what a few people have said about it, I thought it was a pretty good movie. Obviously predictable, as most movies like that are very predictable. But the point of the movie wasn’t the ending, it was more the experience, being a period film and everything…. Even though I did like it quite a bit, Entertainment Weekly did write a rather funny -but mean- review of the DVD:
“Ladies, if you want to believe that there’s more to college than getting your MRS, grab your lipstick and heed this warning: Do not see Mona Lisa Smile. It will insult your intellegence, beggin questions like, Why do some characters have quasi-British accents? Why does Julia Roberts look completely out of place at a women’s college in the ’50s? How is it possible to jam so many clichès into two hours? We may never know, sisters, but the movie does teach us the earth-shattering lesson that things aren’t always what they seem (no way!). Roberts fans may spark at some moments, as her patented gestures are here: lips smushed in consternation, maniacal cackles, toothy grins. Just don’t expect any burning bras. Extras: Featurettes that try unsuccessfully to make the movie sound substantive) you can skip the Elton John Video, too). D.”
I didn’t really agree with the article. I thought the featurettes were interesting! Bleh.
Anyway, after the whole Gender Equity half day thing, I went home and relaxed a little bit with my partial day off. Then, my friend called and told me that he had to come over and that something was wrong. Naturally, me being extremely worried, I thought it must be something serious. I reluctantly let him come over. When he eventually did, I was in for a little surprize! He brought his friend, a person I haven’t seen for three years who went to my middle school! It’s fun to meet people you knew from way back when, even when the way back when is only three years ago. :) She, my friend, and I talked for a bit. We had some fun on my sister’s computer because her buddy list was left on. My friend started talking to my sister’s friend…. but it’s not really all that interesting.
Then, after that, I got to babysit! :P Now, with the money that I got from babysitting, I want to go buy more movies! Hoorah! Movie central! …. :)
Gender Equity My Butt
Wednesday was a half day in school (or a three quarter day until some sort of problem is worked out), so instead of giving the kids short classes, they decided to have gender equity workshops. The funny thing: they were only for girls. Ah, what a great way to get equallity between the sexes, split them up! Yay! So while the girls were off learning about self esteem and probably how to take over the world with their girl power, the guys had to play basketball, watch Monty Python, play chess, and sit quietly for an hour. What a complete waste of time. If I hadn’t been tardy on so many occasions, I would have probably stayed home.
Shower
Hot comfortable water
streaming down all over
sliding comfortably
down your back
thoughts come like dreams
out of the fog
and the world is gone
in the steam
just you and the sound
of the drizzling water
as it echoes off of the
bath tub floor
a second seems like
forever
forever seems like
a second
and slowly the water
turns cool
and you stand
refreshed.
And he calles me obsessive compulsive?
Which I am, I am obsessive compulsive. But I still don’t like it how my father can call me and other members of my family obsessive compulsive (while singing his horribly immature OCD song), when he himself has some obsessive compuslive symtoms.
Of course, he is hardly as neat freakish as I am. On the contrary, he is quite a slob, as proven when he completely ruined his office again, only within about a week or two of me cleaning it. It seems that anything that is nice looking makes him want to throw up, so he immediately must remove it from his office space. The office space isn’t even his own space, it’s a middle room that one enters when they go upstairs in my house, but he has made it known that it is *his space.*
The thing that is obsessive compulsive about my father is, in a sense, his slobliness, and his horrible organizational skills. If he had bothered to read that book on obsessive compulsive disorder, he would have found out that there are many, many types of obsessive compulsive disorder, not just the clean type. My father saves things. A lot. He has loads of old newspaper articles all over the place, just sitting there. I don’t know when he thinks they’ll come in handy. And the post-it notes?! Come on! Nobody needs that many post-its. It’s bad for the environment!
And he complains about me being picky about the way my space is treated? Move his computer one inch and he’ll put a post-it note on it saying: “Max- don’t move this or anything of mine at all ever!” Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
Some Bar Photo Album
About a week or a week and a half ago, my family and I went to the grand opening of a bar. My mother and I had gone there about a week before the grand opening, to a sort of pre-opening party. It’s a very cool bar. It’s like something out of Amelie meets Dr. Seus plus a lot more red. Very cool.
Hotel
laying cool
under layers of foreign sheets
breathing chlorinated air
in the room.
the bathroom light
shows through a crack
from the door and spreads
a thin line on the wall.
the faint sound of
the cars driving by below
seems to say “shhhhhh.”
go to sleep.
rolling over
tasting the clean cool smell
and your face on the sheets
in a different place.
Awww…. remember those days?
From fridayfive.org:
What was….
1. …your first grade teacher’s name? Mrs. Darling. Isn’t that just the perfect name for a kindergarden teacher? [Edit: Oops, it said first grade. Eh, that name's hardly as kindergardeny. I don't even know if I can spell it. Dagestine?]
2. …your favorite Saturday morning cartoon? Hum…. I remember I liked Power Rangers, but that’s not really a cartoon. Probably X-Men.
3. …the name of your very first best friend? I don’t really remember. I had a few best friends in day care when I was little.
4. …your favorite breakfast cereal? My parents never really bought any good kids cereal, I basically only got to get the sugary stuff when I went to my grandparent’s house. I think I ate a lot of Kix and Quaker Oatmeal Squares.
5. …your favorite thing to do after school? Go into this little loft that we had in our old house and set up a little blanket tent and watch afternoon cartoons on our little black and white TV. My parents tell people that I didn’t have TV for a full seven years, that’s a lie! They probably just don’t remember our little black and white one. ;)
Spring To Come
cream colored light
breathes against the wall
whispering of spring
to come.
a soft warm breeze
touches the eyes
showing you the spring
to come
the melting ice and snow
crushes satisfyingly
getting you read to walk
into the spring to come
the sun glints behind the clouds
showing quick glimpses
shouting out
“I will be here soon!”
Could this day be any worse?
Ha, I sounded like Chandler from Friends there for a moment. Friends is a great show…. to bad it’s almost over…. Anyway, yeah, I had a pretty crap day, at least at the beginning of it. I slept in a little more than I should have, I think I’m still catching up from staying up late for the Academy Awards. Since I slept in, I was probably going to be late for school. On the way to the car, I tripped and fell on the ice on the sidewalk and lander kerplop, right into a huge puddle. Not only was my butt soaked, but as I soon found out, almost my entire left hand was bleeding. I think I finished off my family’s entire band-aid supply just for that one hand.
So, let’s see, I was about twenty minutes late and my pants were wet. I didn’t want to be late, not at all. It’s horrible how many times I’ve been late to school this year. I’m getting very annoyed with myself and how the teacher looks at me in a way that seems to say, “oh, Max, you slow idiot,” and rolls her eyes. “Sigh.” My legs were itching for about four periods.
On top of all of this, when I got home, I found that my father had moved the fancy little paper holders and drawers that we bought him off of his desk and moved the cute little wicker baskets we also got on to the top of a wardrobe! My mother and I spent hours on Saturday cleaning that pig pen, and now it looks like it’s slowly going back to being a pig pen! Gar! I want to go see a movie.