Oy vey.

I really need to work on posting more often. I think I would be less of a rage machine if I let what's currently IN my head OUT. This, I shall do!

Tonight, though, I'm indulging in an almost guilty pleasure. I'm listening to this fantastic Latin choir/instrumental track from... of all things... Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame. Listen with me!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8axNKiFETrk&feature=related

I had a love/hate relationship with this movie when I was younger. Like so many, I grew up in the generation where Disney was basically God, and everything they did was pretty frickin' sweet. I also loved the character of Esmeralda. What was this, 1998? I was turning from a little girl into a teenager. I was becoming more independent and headstrong, and entirely too vocal about what I disagreed with. What's not to love about the character who's a grown and actualized woman? She's morally upright, kind and accepting, street smart, and drop-dead gorgeous in that animated-by-Disney way. Add the subliminal elements of her being in touch with and confident in her sexuality (seriously, watch her writhe on Frollo's lap and tell me that any other guy wouldn't breathe a little harder), and you've got an idol for any burgeoning teen. I even dressed as Esmeralda for Halloween that year. ^^;

Then I realized that I was too old for Disney movies. And so I began to deny the fact that I still found them awesome, along with so many other delicious bits of my childhood. Another decade and some maturing later, I'm grown enough to admit that I'm still a sucker for Disney. Especially, I'm realizing, for this movie.

It helps that the Nostalgia Critic* pointed it out, but Hunchback is a really, REALLY dark film to come from the Happiest Place on Earth. It touches on racism, murder, sexuality, REPRESSED sexuality, corrupt politics, and the violent collision between secular and sacred culture that rages to this day! Darth- err, Pope Benedict freaked out about James Cameron's Avatar because it was about Pagan culture, Nature Worship, and rebelling against the system. And there were blue alien boobies. Those have been a problem lately.**

Isn't it a really deep moment, though, when the movie's bad guy laments his attraction to a lowly gypsy, and the fact that his virtue doesn't mean enough for him to let her go? Or when the man who was trapped inside his entire life realizes that the one person who claimed to love him the whole time is a person who is INCAPABLE of real love? The fact that Quasimodo doesn't interfere with Esmeralda and Phoebus in their flirtation, even if it means his massive crush will forever remain unrequited? When a pretty girl decides she'd rather be WRONGFULLY EXECUTED than give her body to the corrupt old man who's threatening her? This stuff could be in a Lifetime movie, it is that depressing!

Let's not forget the art- from a traditional standpoint, it's very pretty. The Disney artists did a darn good job of representing Notre Dame itself, which is regarded as a pinnacle of gorgeous architecture. And the music! ~sigh~ Call me biased, but Latin is an amazing language, and it translates into song so beautifully. Plus there's the instrumentation and the chords the composer, Alan Menkin, decided on. For example- The scene where Frollo tries to burn Esmeralda as a witch. The notes themselves are discordant, almost like they're lamenting the character's fate. The tempo's slow and has a very organized march feel to it, and then more discord as Frollo offers her one last chance to give in to his advances. She rejects, and the choirs' voices swell with the flames that engulf her. The tempo and volume both pick up, and you can hear the driving timpani under everything, imitating the pounding of the hero's heart as he swoops down and pulls her loose. Then, soaring resolution as the choir supports Quasimodo's claims of "Sanctuary!"

Call me a sucker, but this is what I call BAD ASS. It's beautiful music in and of itself, but what makes it really awesome for me is that it's part of the story-telling! This is the part of the movie where (if you're like me) your arms erupt into goosebumps. That feeling is worth any amount of heckling. So, yeah, I really, really like 80-90s era Disney. (Not High School Musical Disney, because that's a whole other can of beans.)

I also like Sailor Moon, the princess from Voltron is pretty, and the original Power Rangers were the fucking bomb. These are a few of my favorite things.



*The Nostalgia Critic can be found at thatguywiththeglasses.com, and, in my opinion, rips some of our childhood favorites a well-deserved new one. Seriously, did you ever WATCH Captain Planet? Maybe you've forgotten how awful it was, but the Nostalgia Critic remembers.

**The blue alien boob joke is a reference to a shit-storm that arose a few years ago related to a game called Mass Effect. It's a fun game set in kind of a choose-your-own-space-adventure scenario, with one of the possible outcomes of your character's choices being a brief, not-at-all pornographic love scene with a hot blue alien. Double points if the player character is female. Needless to say, the conservative demographic, the video-game-hater demographic, and a few other whiners went positively CRAZY and blew the entire thing way out of proportion. Claims were made that the game would turn kids into xenophiles, promote lesbian unions, cause bestiality and public masturbation, etc. After a few embarrassed apologies by professionals who had testified before they even saw the game, most of society just shrugged and moved on.

A Midsummer Night's Hallucination

Ugh. Insomnia...

I once promised an ode to Prince of Persia in iambic pentameter. Well, forgive the wait, but iambic pentameter can be a bitch. I have an entirely new respect for Shakespeare.

Dagger in my hand? Nay! Dagger buried
in the heart of my belov'd! Brave and just
mine own transgressions are what did end her.
Would that I had not touch'd this loathsome blade!
Rather, I wish it remain'd in India
Within dusty ruins guarded by spell
That one bold princess might once more open
Her two dark and lust'rous eyes unto me!

That was the first time I've written anything in iambic pentameter. Your thoughts?

Progress.

So, I've actually kind of hated living in Cheyenne. I mean, yeah, it's worth it to get Brian through school. But I had to switch jobs, so I'm not dealing with the assholes I'm used to any more. I get an entirely new set of assholes to learn about!
It's a bigger city, so I can go shopping... Until about 6 p.m., because businesses in Cheyenne apparently have better things to do than stay open and SELL STUFF!
Everybody here drives, parks, and even walks like an idiot. They're not being aggressive, they just don't notice the little lines that you shouldn't cross over, and they don't know that red means stop.
There are people with cigarettes and chewing tobacco EVERYWHERE. I guess it's to be expected, but it still really bothers me that I can't walk through the Wally World parking lot to get to work without coughing up a lung.
Also, all my friends are still in Laramie. Yeah, I know one or two people here, but that's not really enough.

But we are making progress! Brian is kicking butt and taking names in school. I am so very proud of that man. =)
I have been working on starting a Go Club at a neat local cafe. It's still very small ~cough~Just me!~cough~ but I'm putting up more ads around town.
And now I've met a Shakespeare group! Apparently, they've been having trouble finding enough cast members for the ever-popular Midsummer Night's Dream. So when a group member dropped off a script she asked me if I wanted to be Hippolyta. Queen of the Amazons? Hells, yes! I've missed theatre, since my most recent activity in it was the class I took in Fall of '06, so I'm jumping at this opportunity! Mayhap I will finally expand my wee circle of friends!

Egads! I just got weirder!

I have added yet another quirk to my laundry list of oddities. Now that I work as an optician, I have an eye-wear fetish.

I happened upon this revelation when I stumbled onto this picture-

Zachary Quinto plays Spock in the new Star Trek movie, and Sylar on Heroes. He is pictured to the right in big honkin' glasses. Nice big zyl frames, and, if I had to guess the prescription, I would say he's either plano or just a little near-sighted. And, the more I stare at those glasses, the more I think myopia makes me hawt. Oooh, talk astigmatism to me, baby. Yeah, just like that...

On a less disturbing note, check out his eyebrows. For the role of Spock, about three-quarters of ZQ's brows were sacrificed to the razor god. You can kind of see how slender they are behind the glasses. Clever disguise, no?

Blasphemy!

Erin has a confession to make-

She had a double standard for a little bit. I try not to let a bad experience bias me against something or someone, and I criticize others for doing it, but I let it happen.

Y'see, a few years ago, I dated this... person/creature/carbon-based THING. His name started with a "C," ended in a "d," and had "ha" in the middle. This... dating, I suppose you could call it, ended on a sour note when he replaced me with something that had smaller tits than his own, and could barely be identified as female. (Yes, I'm still bitter. Shut up.) The relationship was troubled, to say the least, even before it ended. There was lots of drinking, infidelity, verbal abuse, and crying, with his stalking for the next couple years to wash the whole thing down. This is what I qualify as a bad experience.

It's also my only experience with Star Trek up to this point.

This guy was an old school Trekkie. The way he described it was what first caught my attention. He confessed his obsession, I wounded him with my Olympic-gold-medal eyeroll, and he defended his adoration for the series. In the future, the aliens we may meet, and the race we may become, will still be... human, for lack of a better word. It's about the bar fights and the warm fuzzy group hugs, the epic screw-ups and the landslide victories, and everything in between.

So, I relented. I grew especially fond of the movie Undiscovered Country, The Next Generation (Patrick Stewart and Brent Spiner are fantastic actors!) and Voyager. (Yes, it's pretty much the match.com of the Star Trek franchise. I liked the captain. And #7. Bite me.) Needless to say, once the relationship was over I wanted nothing to do with Star Trek. Star Trek was associated with the worst of all evils, in my mind. And yet, I couldn't help but think of those moments that made me laugh or even smile just a tiny bit. I had been changed- whether or not the person who'd done the changing was a bastard was irrelevent.

Point of the ramble-
Two years later, I watch the Star Trek movie, and I come to a long overdue conclusion- I am really fond of this idea. I'm really fond of all these world's I've been to and the people I've met. Just as I won't let a bad memory keep me from moving forward, I won't let a bad experience keep me from enjoying something. So, this is me admitting it-

I like Star Trek. I've liked it for a few years now.
Still hate Chad.
But I really like Star Trek.

Bomb nom nom!

So, I just want to start off by saying FUCK FLOOR-MASTERS! FUCK THEM ALL TO HELL! ... Okay, I feel better now.

For those of you who didn't pick up on that thinly veiled reference, I've been playing a lot of Zelda lately. I replayed Twilight Princess in record time, restarted Ocarina of Time, and then acquired Windwaker. Once you get past the cel shading, Windwaker is actually a really great game. Several of the game play elements are pretty different from other installments- like being able to steal from enemies, or control secondary characters- but the puzzles are ingenious and the boss fights are a blast. Also, there are statues with gaping mouths that you throw bombs into! Open wide, beeyotch!

I also have a new job! I now work in the Wal-mart Vision Center! I bet some of you are thinking, "Oooh! Whoopdee doo!" Really, though, the Vision Center is so much more satisfying, and less stressful by far than the service desk. It also offers the opportunity to take the certification exam to become a licensed optician. Opticians are kind of like dental assistants- they get things ready for the doctor. Opticians run lab equipment and perform several tests for patients, order and adjust eyeglasses, and do repairs. I get to wear professional dress instead of my worn-to-pieces khakis and polos. I also got hooked up with glasses and contacts, so Brian doesn't have to read road signs for me any longer. It makes me feel smart when I can explain the benefits of polycarbonate lenses as opposed to high index. I know the second leading cause of blindness in our country and what triggers the condition. I can straighten frames and insert lenses, replace nose pads, and extricate broken screws.

Oh, and I went through the training course (complete with three-inch workbook and online comprehension tests) and all my on-the-job training in sixteen days. Woot for me!

Last, but not least, Watchmen was AMAZING. That was the best transition of any novel or comic to a movie that I have ever seen. All hail Zack Snyder and his respect for source material! All hail some of the most amazing actors in the verse! And, to cheapen the moment, all hail thigh-high black boots!

Married in a hurry! reprise and Sinus infections make the best gifts!

So, Friday the Thirteenth lived up to its expectations. These are the episodes of bad luck that I know of, there may have been more-

There was a snow storm. I spent the morning cooking salmon for my vegetarian(ish) mother-in-law. The friend who was doing my hair was two hours late getting to Cheyenne. Before coming to my house, he and my maid-of-honor/witness went to Walgreen's to grab some pantyhose, where his car died. A couple of hours later, they got to my house, where my hair and the ribbons braided in it decided not to cooperate.

When it was time to go, nobody knew directions to the Masonic Temple. On the way, my middle brother got rear-ended by somebody who apparently doesn't drive in snow too often, and had a hole punched in his oil pan. (He handled it admirably, though, and escaped unscathed!) When everybody got the temple, we were all so disorganized that really none of the stuff I had brought for the reception was brought downstairs and set up.

When it was time for me to prettify, I realized that I'd left some of my makeup in some of the bags that had stuff for the reception. I made do with the makeup we had on hand, and got ready. I told the judge that nobody was giving me away, but I was so nervous that I had my youngest brother walk me up at the very last minute. Brian visibly swooned when he saw me, which I actually think is really cute.

When we got to the reception, I realized that I'd also forgotten Brian's laptop, so we didn't have any music. While my mother was making a toast, she leveled a glare at my step-father that could have frozen the blood in a lesser person's veins. There was an awful lot of confusion as to who was doing what, but we still made it though.

We were worried we wouldn't be able to make it to Fort Collins for the honeymoon, since the interstate was closed for a bit, but it opened back up before the reception ended. We still had to run back to our apartment to grab overnight stuff, and we actually did forget to refrigerate some of our delicious food! On the drive down to Fo Co, the horrible weather lasted until the Wyoming/Colorado border, which surprised me very little.

Upon our arrival at the hotel, we couldn't find parking closer than a block away, so I took a short walk in my tennis shoes and my wedding dress. Brian had ordered this lovely little Romance package, that came complete with truffles and rose petals and breakfast in bed in the morning. It was all very lovely, except for the part where it got set up in someone else's room! (Isn't that just a hilarious mental image, though? A single guy walks into his room and finds rose petals and chocolate everywhere!) After relocation to a larger suite to make up for the mix-up, Brian and I had some quality kinky dungeon time, after which we both passed the hell out. Later that night, to put the metaphorical cherry on top, I woke up congested and coughing with the mother of all sore throats.

I'm fairly certain I never put 'sinus infection' on any gift registry. More importantly, I'm kind of proud that I didn't turn into Bridezilla (RAWR!) and flop down crying about how I wanted everything to be perfect. In fact, despite all the accidents and misadventures and fluid cursing, I would do it all again.

They say a picture's worth a thousand words. What does this one tell you?