Monday, September 27, 2010

Knock knockers

Give me a break.

So I'm sure that you've heard of this whole situation recently, and if you haven't, you undoubtedly live in a cave.  (That would also mean it would be impossible for you to read this blog.. hmmm) Yes, Katy Perry is getting flack for her boobs, and the episode she filmed for Sesame Street is being yanked from the air and won't be broadcast because parents all over the place are upset with how "sexual" she looks for an episode of a kid's show.

What do these parents think she's wearing?  Pasties and nothing else?

I find this whole situation stupid.  She's covered up.  She can't help the size of her chest.  Honestly, maybe the executives at Sesame Street should consider breast size before reaching out to celebrities - yes, laugh.  That does sound ridiculous, but here's my point: when you think of Katy Perry, I'm sure you'll first think of murder, then maybe stupid songs, and then I guarantee you'd likely think "boobs," guy or girl, whoever you are.  Did they not think of it before she got there?  Was the moment she stepped on set the first time they were like "oh, look at her boobs."  A step further: she probably didn't pick her wardrobe.  I say to you, Sesame Street costume department: perhaps you should've put her in a turtleneck?

To be honest, though, I don't even get it.  I think it's fine, what she's wearing, and I don't think she should've been in a turtleneck or something like that.  (I meant, with the turtleneck comment, that if they anticipated this, they wouldn't have dressed her like they did)  Like I said, girl can't help her body.  And like I said, it's not like she's hanging out everywhere and oozing sex: OF COURSE NOT.  She knows she's on Sesame Street, she's not going to hump Oscar the Grouch.

That being said: she's not DOING anything.  She's not being sexy, she's not being provocative; god forbid her top doesn't cover her up completely.  Sure, it may have been a different context if she was dancing around or something, but she's standing there with Elmo.

Besides, kids are stupid.  I hate children; they're dumb and inferior.  I don't know if they'd realize if boobs were onscreen.

I guess there's gratification in this:

Katy Perry, this last Saturday on SNL, being a good sport and jabbing back.  Good job Katy.  Now please stop singing California Girls.

Me against the virus

It's just me.  And me.  Britney reference?  Perhaps, to commemorate tomorrow night's Glee episode.

After two harrowing days, I've finally defeated the beast known as Antimalware Doctor.

Here's usually what happens: whenever I even decide I want to ATTEMPT watching a movie or TV show online, I get a virus.  I normally know better; I go to the theaters or rent it or do anything but watch things online, partially from guilt, too.  Last time I tried to watch something online was A Nightmare on Elm Street, I think, last March, and I got a virus from that, too.  Time before that may have been catching up with Glee.

On Saturday night I for some reason decided I wanted to watch Resident Evil: Afterlife, knowing that even if I had friends here in Burlington, they wouldn't want to go (yooooou know who you are, hahaha).  I open the movie, watch about thirty seconds, then decide the quality of the video isn't so great and that I wouldn't be experiencing the 3D aspect of the movie.  I exit, and close my computer.

By the time I open it again a few hours later, I have all these popups and viruses and lord knows what, and great, I got another virus.  If you know me you'll know I do not stay up late at all, and this being at 9pm, I'm clearly distraught because I know I can't go to sleep knowing my computer is a mess.

I was up until about 2 that night, monitoring an ongoing scan (I was given false hope: this supposedly amazing virus protection program does a complete scan, finds 200+ viruses (..!!), gives me the option to delete, I click it, and then it was like "please register."  Fuck you), went to sleep thinking it was okay, and then woke up to my problems multiplied.  I had work in the morning, and I spent my whole shift wondering about the state of my computer; by the time I come home I find 50+ Internet Explorer pages open on dating sites and contests and what have you.  After another multiple hours running countless scans, I think it's (..they?) completely gone.

Point is, I've slayed the beast after countless scans and programs downloaded and everything I could possibly do.  I've learned my lesson: no more watching things online.  Maybe I'll have to suck it up and go see Resident Evil alone.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Pass the bottle of Jack, I need to brush my teeth

Good morning.  (I don't particularly feel like P Diddy)

Here's something I've noticed about myself, especially in the past few weeks what with school restarted; every night, as I'm trying to fall asleep (you know, the time where you flirt with the line between alert consciousness and peaceful slumber) - mind still active, and still under my own control - I plan out things I want to change about myself the next morning when I wake up.

When I'm sleeping, I decide to myself I'll wake up at 7 or 8am every weekday (weekends won't count) and go downstairs to my basement and do an hour on the bike/treadmill my family has and uses more as ornaments than machines.  I have yet to start that.

I delegate times in my mind where I'd catch up with some readings I've fallen behind with, and plan schedules for my future weeks, deciding what time I'll read what textbook.  I even usually decide to buy a whiteboard calendar to hang in my room, so I can copy out every single reading for every single class, and wipe them off as I go along with completion; some sort of motivation.  I'm still behind.

I pretend to live out future scenarios - who doesn't - where I say all the right things at all the right times to the right person (people?), and they magically say the things I want to hear.  Come afternoon, evening, wherever on the next day, it's still the same formulaic greet, laugh, See ya!

Sometimes, I decide to myself in the comfort of my blanket that I can change absolutely everything about my life the following day, and that it only takes one step at a time.  Each morning when I wake up, and I do nothing about what I planned - is it a subconscious affirmation that I'm actually okay with myself, and that all the things I've decided would better myself are actually immaterial, and I can survive one more day without because I've done so thus far?  Or rather, is it some sort of subconscious procrastination?

If anything, here's a step in the right direction: I planned this blog post as I was trying to fall asleep last night.  Positive action, yeah?

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Where did Coach Beiste touch you, Brittany?

Beyond satisfied with last night's Glee episode.  Had the feel of the first episodes, not so much like the most recent ones; we're back to the glory.  My only gripe would've been about the music: I don't really want Billionaire and Telephone shoved down my throat because "hey look, it's a popular song!!"  (Telephone was incredible either way)

I can't even count how many times I was gasping for air laughing.  "SHUT UP!" or "Stop the violence" or "People thought I was away all summer but I was actually lost in the sewers" or "You've been demoted to the bottom of the pyramid" and above all Brittany's sexual harassment case.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Things I hate

If you know me at all, you know I'm an extremely spiteful person and that I hate a whole lot of things on this horrifying planet.  A things I hate post has been a VERY long time coming, and I figured I'd at least give the first volume of this (yes, it'll almost definitely become a series) in special relation to today.
  • I hate public transit.  Specifically, Mississauga Transit.  Does this make sense: the GO Train I take on Tuesdays and Thursdays departs the Burlington GO Station at 10:10am, and the train ride is approximately 26 minutes, so naturally, the train arrives at the Clarkson GO Station at 10:36am.  The 110 Mississauga North bus, which goes to UTM, departs the station at 10:34am.  WHAT?  REALLY?  DOES THAT MAKE SENSE?  No, this didn't occur today, but it will tomorrow, and I still hate that the damn bus drivers are such crabs that they don't look up and acknowledge your bus pass, and that they just park and go have a smoke or god knows what.  Sometimes, buses don't come at all.  I hate Mississauga Transit.
  • I hate carrying the weight of two small children on my back every day in my backpack.  Laptop, books, it all adds up.  Today, I got to carry my new copy of the complete Shakespeare anthology, which undoubtedly weighed the same as, likely, a hippopotamus.
  • I hate late night Biology classes.  WHY ARE THEY NECESSARY?
  • I hate my itchy beard.
  • I hate yetis.  Yes, yetis.  They exist.  They run wild at UTM.  Here's what happened: BIO206 begins at 6, and the lecture hall is empty right before, so not long before class started me and two of my friends decided to go and get seats and hang out.  There were two other people: some guy with headphones and a yeti.  This yeti was near the front and she starts blasting screamo music on her computer; I don't want to listen to the devil. It was louder than the live feed of Lady Gaga's rally my two friends and I were watching.  Her song finishes, the rally finishes, and so we're talking - maybe with a little volume, and the loudness was undoubtedly amplified in the empty lecture hall - and the YETI comes up and is like "EXCUSE ME, KEEP IT DOWN.  I'M TRYING TO DO WORK AND YOU'RE TALKING LOUD."  Gimme a break.  Yeti, go back to your cave.  I hate yetis.
  • I hate when the people at Starbucks are incompetent and make my coffee-free chocolate drink with coffee.
  • I hate Molecular and Cell Biology.  I hate the professor.  Stop being such a lesbian and start TEACHING ME SO THAT I DON'T FAIL YOUR CLASS

There will be so many more hatred posts to come.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Medium rare

If you knew me, you knew this was coming.

I'm overjoyed that Lady Gaga picked up eight awards at the Video Music Awards (seven for Bad Romance, one for Telephone).  I was in absolute AWE when she announced the name of her album would be BORN THIS WAY, and I became practically paralyzed when she added the chorus of the title track,
I'm beautiful in my way / Cause God makes no mistakes
I'm on the right track, baby, / I was born this way
But, to be honest, I've found myself repulsed at her meat dress.

I remained ignorant to the Vogue Japan cover she had where she donned the meat bikini; yeah, I look at it once or twice, I shake my head and wince, but I move on.  Of course, though, she revisited the idea, and wore it in front of millions; with all the news, now, perhaps twicefold.  Ellen DeGeneres has said she was disgusted (being a vegan) that Gaga didn't change out of her meat dress to be on her (Ellen's) VMA special, saying she found it "gross."

Here's the thing.  I'm Gaga's biggest fan.  I know that her shtick is being outlandish, shocking and provocative.  Yes, I like the message she was putting out behind the meat, that if we don't speak out for our beliefs we're "nothing but the meat on our bones," and I like that she added "I'm not a piece of meat."  I get that.  I'm just partially disgusted when I look at her latest outdoing.  Honestly, the idea is just gross.  She wore and SAT IN a dress made out of slabs of MEAT.

At this point, Gaga, we're all listening; the world is listening to you.  Your zaniness caught out attention.  We realized you're obscenely talented.  You don't need to keep shoving shock value in our faces; we're listening.  I know that I, personally, want her full blown, straight-up talent.

True Blah

Spoilers abound, you fools.

I absolutely adore True Blood.  It's everything vampires should be, and in the times where vampires are everywhere and truly inescapable, the life-challenged inhabitants of Bon Temps are the best representation of the monsters that vampires SHOULD be.  (Don't even get me started on Twilight) True Blood is dark, gritty, bloody, sexy, and consciously campy - I can't say that the acting is particularly strong from some players, and some moments or lines or facial expressions or Anna Paquins are quite cringe-worthy at times, but the show knows that it's a ridiculous romp of a good time and it doesn't take itself too seriously.  We are, of course, referring to the show whose second season antagonist was a Greek devil goddess whose evil on the residence of Bon Temps came in the form of blacked-out eyes and orgies.

Now, the third season (which just wrapped on Sunday) was a bit scattered when compared to the first two seasons, though still solid.  In my opinion, the first season was the greatest, second season was still good but faltered because of misguided focuses.  (I could not wait until Maryann was killed.  Too bad it took to the finale) In the third season, none of the characters were connected - the most we got at the same place was mid season - as they all lived their own storylines.  That, I think, was the third season's biggest flaw, as pace was an issue since we spent so much time jumping from story to story after three minute scenes.  In some episodes we saw Sookie for maybe five minutes tops, and I know I don't exactly like her, but she's the friggin MAIN CHARACTER Jessica has been reduced to a single scene an episode, which is disgusting.  Useless characters (Jason, Crystal, Lafayette's boyfriend Jesus, dare I even say Arlene) were given way too much focus when good characters (Jessica, Alcide, Pam) were forgotten about for big portions of time.  Not to mention they messed Sam up.

Pace aside, I loved the season.  We were introduced to great new characters (Debbie, Alcide), and I can honestly say that I was constantly in awe of some of the plot twists despite owning and reading books 1-10.  A particular highlight was the fight between Sookie and Debbie, but that's another story.

Now to my point.  (I know right? Matt, shut up)

What were they thinking with the finale?

There was no CLIMAX for god's sake!  The main villain, Russell, was virtually defeated at the end of the PREVIOUS episode.  Storylines were just dropped as their "resolutions": the last time we saw Eric and Pam they were talking about cement in their hair.  That's it for them.  We randomly see Hoyt's mom buying a vampire effective shotgun.  Then that's it for her.  Lafayette's seeing crazy shit.  That's nice.  Tara lops of her hair and looks like a motherfucking retard and that's it for her.  NOTHING was tied up.  I feel almost cheated, in the sense that this season served no purpose than to only set up the next.

I suppose I'm insanely happy that they stuck with the books in the twist that Bill was sent to Sookie by the Queen of Louisiana, that he LET Sookie get attacked so that he could feed her his blood.  He's horrible, and Sookie then banishes all vampires out of her life.  That was good.  (So was Hoyt buying Jessica a house and proposing.  Melt my heart)  Bill vs Sophie Anne, that was embarrassing.  If you're going to rip off the Matrix, do it with dignity.

But the closing scene.  Let me say that the previous two seasons ended perfectly; a body found in a car, Lafayette's? and then Bill is kidnapped, but by who?  The last scene of the season was ridiculous.  So we found out this year that Sookie had fairy blood, that's cool, it follows the books.  But for some reason the creator decided to represent a "fairy world" as some dumbass pond where idiot looking fairies pranced around like rejects from a Shakespeare play, that's stupid.  They ruined the character of Claudine, who should've been a 6 foot tall goddess, but we got some stumpy Brit.  The third season concluded with all these retarded looking fairies coming out of the forest around Sookie, Claudine approaching her with an outstretched hand, then lights come out of their fucking hands, then they connect, and then they fucking teleport away.


I'm still a fan, I still love the show, and yeah, I always excuse episodes as missteps, but the fact that it was the finale was tough to digest.  The cliffhanger hasn't left me wanting more.  Maybe I will... by the time it comes back in nine months.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Bad romance

I know that we are young, and I know that you may love attacking my health me, but I just can't be with you like this anymore.. YOU STUPID HEAD COLD

Dear Cold,

Why must you torment me, on the first week back at school no less?  Why must you threaten my health when after only just surviving the week with you, I still look to a full weekend of work but you're still raging?  Why must you limit my hours of sleep to a number which can be counted on just one hand?

You know, Cold, that my parents have some sort of "cold ignorance."  You remember in Grade 3, when you turned into pneumonia, my parents sent me to school every single day, refusing to look at my drained demeanor.  If I were to ever even consider bringing up the idea of staying home from school due to a cold, my parents would immediately say no.  So why do you still linger when I work at 1 tomorrow?  Why must you put me in a potential position of having to call in sick (second time in only a few weeks), since surely no one wants their cashier to be a sniffling mess.

My biggest gripe of all, Cold, is that you make my night sleepless and my classes excruciating to survive, yet the moment I "wake up" or leave the classroom, standing, I feel a little bit better?  Is that a sick joke?  "You just barely made it through Ecology, eh?  Class out 20 minutes early, you relieved?  Well now, you're not as congested anymore, hah", I can picture you saying.

So for the love of god, I hope to wake up tomorrow morning without you.

Love Matt

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The wind and I aren't friends

Today was my first day back.

I actually enjoyed it.  I found myself on the train actually MISSING it, traveling and passing by the familiar buildings and landmarks.  I missed the fury I usually have with Mississauga Transit, and today was no exception; the damn city has the strangest times for buses, none of which line up with trains or are convenient whatsoever, so I found myself waiting a good thirty minutes before a bus rolled into the station. (not to mention the extra ten when the driver got out and went I don't know where.  THAT'S NICE.  Now drive me to school)  I missed the atmosphere; I missed walking around and smiling and waving at the faces that reminded me of last year.  I couldn't stop myself and I caved into buying a Booster Juice.  Juice goodness.

I only had one class today (sat in for an extra one, in addition), Cinema Studies, and I found myself actually interested, a feeling unfamiliar given the classes I had first year.  We'll see how my other classes go tomorrow, and the day after.

We'll also see if my fresh relief to be back at school will fade come tomorrow, as I have class until 7; or if it does survive tomorrow, it won't Thursday, with class until 8.  I can't wait until I sit around for 50 minutes given the stupidity of the train times.  Faaantastic.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Last man standing

Given the fact that school starts tomorrow, it's all I've been able to think about for the past.. well, week.  All these thoughts and emotions have increased and amplified today, Labour Day, Monday, my last day before switching into absolute overdrive.  I've already gone through the whole hard work worries, and yeah, that's still very much a huge stresser in my mind, but there's obviously much more than that, the biggest of which has made itself clear in the last few days.

This year, I'm still living at home, and this year, I'm completely alone here, left in Burlington and doomed to the forward and backward movements of the GO train.

I feel like I've truly been deprived, not living in residence for my first year.  I know I've missed something major in my life, living on my own with other people who would've undoubtedly become good friends; I never did the whole "I'll stick with you" during orientation; I was always the one last year who would say, No, I'm not coming to (tonight, whatever), I need to catch the train in twenty minutes.  I wish I could say I don't know why I didn't live on res first year, but I know exactly why: for some stupid reason, my dad was completely opposed to the idea of me moving away.  Whenever I'd even bring up the thought, he'd either shoot it down with a "Period." or, if we were with other people, he'd make a point to lecture me on how "stupid the idea is," knowing he'd get the support of the adults around.  I'd then be pulled aside and looked down upon by everyone else saying, "You know, your dad's right."

I do get it, a bit: yes, my campus is a half hour away from where I live now (twenty minutes if the driver is me.. speed's my middle name), and yes, the cost did seem a little high.  But my mom, my dad's devil's advocate, argued the same as I did: it's pretty much a life experience, moving out and doing the whole first year thing with friends.

I'm not irked now by my dad's decision.  I made due with my status as a commuter, and to be honest, the trains didn't effect me much after the first week.  I liked the down time (time devoted to reading this year.. guarantee), but I didn't like coming home completely spent and therefore too tired to do schoolwork, hence my horrid first year.

This year, though, my parents chose ignorance.  A plan to get a house fell through, and things happen, so so be it.  I toyed with the idea of maybe applying for residence second year, but I know that the school's stupid point system would cut me off (the point system regulating who gets back in is heavily catered toward those who already lived in residence, and the weight of my GPA wouldn't get me in alone).  My parents would always say, "We'll look into houses later," and later became never.

The only reason I'm again in the dumps about living at home for second year is that I'm truly alone this year.  I've already driven through the city looking down streets and reminding myself, (So-and-so; no need for names, you know) is already gone.  I get to once again take a seat back and watch my friends - even just people I know, boasting on facebook about moving in or already meeting new people or reconnecting with older ones - go through the whole settling in process, returning to their "other lives" (and I say that without spite).  I'm finding it a bit hard to digest, knowing I'm alone, that I'm the guy who's sitting around at home still.  It's tough.  I'll deal.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

The power of Christ compells you

I did it.  No, I didn't watch The Exorcist; instead, I read it.

I did fine; again, I think my chronic fear is the whole visual aspect.  When reading, whenever they referred to the possessed Regan as "the demon" or "it" speaking, I never pictured the face; in fact, I don't even picture the voice.  I only take the line of dialogue as spoken in fury, and that's that.

As a stand alone book, it's pretty compelling.  I found myself actually intrigued in some of the factual aspects, as the book went in depth into explaining certain mental illnesses and psychoanalysis (that, because for the majority of the possession in the book, most characters remain convinced of erratic psychological behaviour, schizophrenia and multiple personalities - never a demon, until towards the end, and even then it isn't explicitly said that it was supernatural).  Aspects of Black Masses and "case reports" of exorcisms (fictitious? Perhaps) were interesting, if not mostly disturbing.

To be honest, I half expected myself to throw the book at the wall, but that never came to be.  Sure, when reading alone (if I could help it, in daylight), I'd get unnerved at the noises my house makes, or tricks the light plays on my peripheral vision.  Again, the description of the plot didn't bother me; the visual undoubtedly will.

I can honestly say I'm proud I was able to get through the book, although I'm perhaps a tad more disturbed by the darkness.  But that's probably just because it's still fresh on my mind.

And maybe, because due to my own sheer STUPIDITY, I decided to research the actors of the movie to see if my images of the characters were close (I didn't check Linda Blair), but with some, the Google image result brought up pictures of the Face.  I did my best to exit the windows.  We'll see how it effects me tonight.

EDIT: The lights just flickered when I published, the book still beside me.  Mom, if I start speaking Latin or if my head does a 180 tonight, call the priest immediately.  No months-of-doubt shit like from the book.  It's a freaking demon.

BONUS EDIT: I can't stand to be in the presence of the book.  Yeah, yeah.  Dramatic.  I'm truly not kidding.  Back when I bought it, I was electrically compelled to reading it immediately; now, I'm unnerved at the thought of it being across from my bed on the bookshelf as I sleep.  I know it sounds stupid; I also know I said I wasn't OVERLY scared by it, but I think it's all psychological.  The type of thought where it's like, Hey, Matt, across from you is the image that scares you so much, but in text.  I think I'm going to toss it.