Silly girl child.

Once upon a time there was a sketchy girl who was very foolish and could barely speak, never mind actually make conversation, despite the fact that in general, she was known to have and be lots of fun, if not completely retarded. She also liked to procrastinate a whole lot, and did things like write words that don't matter. Sometimes she wondered if real life would ever be as fantastic or as horrifying as the life that played out in her head, somewhere behind her eyes, and if so, when that business would start. She wondered if maybe she was the last person her age to not know how to speak, even though she had been telling stories to anyone who would listen since before she could walk. She figured it was okay though, because for a girl with no social skills, she had some pretty fun friends and liked movies a lot and enjoyed cities and wanted to be famous and sometimes pretended her life wasn't really hers, but just some movie that didn't necessarily progress the way she wanted it to, no matter how many times she wrote the script, and what the heck more could she possibly do without speaking about this girl who knew a lot about what she wanted but you would never know unless you understood what a ridiculous smile means or if you could maybe read minds or be a really really good guesser. 

Eight pages. There is never a need for research papers in the real world/Hollywood.

World's Ugliest Dog Croaks.

http://aolsvc.news.aol.com/news/article.adp?id=20051122121809990005&ncid=NWS00010000000001

He looks like Voldemort. Damn. 

I think my favorite part of living on the RIVERway is knowing how appropriately named my street is, for when it rains there are veritable RAPIDS, complete with current, that collect right in the crosswalk. I'm talking biblical, at least six inches deep. And the water is opaque, too, so God only knows what lies at the bottom

I can't wait to trudge through it on my way to class tonight. But it'll really be okay, because after class it's the T, and after the T it's the commuter rail, which will spit me out in LeomVegas, where it's Thanksgiving.

But before Thanksgiving I think RENT, my amigos, is due.

And Natale to boot. It's been awhile.

Steady like a train.

This afternoon at 3:45 it was so dark and I had lost track of time so much so that I convinced myself it was time for dinner.

Unfortunately it is not. Not technically, at least. It's the perfect time for tomato soup and Saltines, which, while not constituting as a complete meal, are definitely delicous any time of the day.

I finally got to see Walk the Line last night, but only barely because supposedly when I went to buy tickets at 5 for a 7:40 show I got the last six. I think the cute AMC boy that I've seen like 12 times this year says that to everyone though, just to make them feel good about themselves and their choices. Whatever, it worked on me.

Knowing virtually nothing about Johnny Cash or June Carter, I thought the movie to be extremely good, despite the fact that it ended in a freeze frame. Freeze frames are probably the cheapest way to end a movie, especially a biopic that lasted almost three hours. Fade to black, for Lord's sake. Unless you're an epsiode of The Babysitter's Club, then, by all means, freeze away. It works.

To the soup!

"What if Prince Harry moved into Apartment 1?" "I think that would be pretty sad for him."

Yesterday I opened the refrigerator and noticed a slow but steady trickle of pinkish liquid seeping down the crisper drawers. I followed this trickle to the source, which turned out to be the fully thawed 20 pound young turkey sitting on the first shelf. It was then I noticed that the whole first shelf had accumulated a good milimeter of turkey seepage and as a result, everything on that shelf was absolutely marinated in it.

So I had no choice but to pull out the shelves, wash/bleach them in the bathtub, throw away everything that was not sealed and protected against the salmonella turkey blood, and then there was the turkey to deal with. All 20 pounds of it.

Since it had been "thawing" in the refrigerator for four days and was already over a year old, it seemed that the only option left was to quietly dispose of it. Trash gets picked up on Friday. Wednesday morning, a 20 pound turkey carcass was disposed of in the 100 Riverway trash room. I haven't been down there once since, but I can only imagine that it must either smell pretty rank, or not smell at all because all of the raw poison turkey flesh has been gnawed off by every rat in the city that somehow made its way into our trash room to devour that turkey.

And today I dropped my mascara DIRECTLY into the toilet. It was so direct that it went straight down that little hole and I had to do some serious excavating with enormous rubber gloves on, up to my elbows in toilet to fetch the mascara and prevent a serious plumbing issue.

I don't think I've ever had two such genuinely FILTHY experiences happen to me so close to each other before.

Midnight ice cream in the frigid cold really frosts my berries.

Lisa, it's your birthday.

A Few of Tonight's Observations:

1. The people in Hamburger Helper commercials all have Southern accents. Why?
2. How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days is a fantastic romantic comedy. Why? Because they go to a Celine concert, for one. I think they pretty much hit the nail on the head there. Also, Matthew McConneghy is among the skeeziest men alive.
3. Smushed rats in the middle of the crosswalk bear a striking resemblance to an innocent gray sock, until you see the tail. They also have a tendency to startle you...both times you walk by them.

Sooooooooooo now what?

"I challenge you to find something more appetizing than beef and potato casserole." - Natalie

Here's a little equation for you all.

Shep's Pie - Corn = Beef and Potato Casserole. Best served with the pre-ketchup juice.

So delicious. 

We're also in the process of thawing out the young turkey that Eleanor's had for a year. It was hauled out of the freezer this afternoon, and before resting it in the refridgerator to thaw, we put it in Natalie's bed, nestled up next to her, while she napped. 

So cute.

Anyway. Let's just hope all this de-frosting doesn't result in horrific salmonella poisoning. That would ruin Saturday's pre-Thanksgiving dinner for sure.

Ian McKellen is on SNL on E!. What a classy, classy man.

One could assosciate him with a wizard.

One could assosciate wizards with Harry Potter.

One could assosciate Harry Potter with awesome.

I find it kind of sad.

I finally caught up with lots of people and watched Donnie Darko last night. 

People analyze that movie, and watch it billions of times just to get clues to the underlying metaphors and what have you, but after seeing it once, I've got it. I know the secret. Jake Gyllenhaal is attainably, realistically, hot. That's all there is to it.

Elle and Natalie are off to Foxboro to see the Patriots tonight, like sportsfans. 

Liz and I are going to dress in black and wear square glasses and go see Jarhead in our pajamas, like angsty non-athletes.

I made the mistake of downloading Joanna Newsom's Peach, Pear, Plum just to show Liz how weird it is. And now she likes it. And now I have a little eye twitch.