Its due! Its due! *stares bleary eyed at completed masters project*

Omg. Its done. 18,000++ words. 102 pages. A full feature film script. And its little 2,000 word brother essay.

*stares*

*prints*

*stares some more*

*prints*

Crap. That's thick.

*stares*

okay. After handing this in, I am going to go sleep for at least 2 days straight.

Its funny how watching movies can make you just miss something in particular. For the last few weeks, I watched quite a few movies and they never seem to fail to get me feeling nostalgic.

The Queen - miss Princess D.
Breach - miss the non-existent gay subtext.
Gokusen Season 2 Ep 1 - miss Sawada Shin.
The Practice Season 8 - miss Krane, Poole and Schmidt.
1408 - miss The Shining.
Miss Potter - miss my long dead rabbit, Baby.

In other news, am starving. Totally forgot to do grocery shopping. Masters project doesn't seem to want to farking END even though the dateline is just a few days away. Farking script! Already up to 93 pages. Fark.

Other, other news. Can't stand shoujo manga. Read Kare First Love and hated it. Girl cried too much and is totally useless. Read Koi Suru 1/4 and hated it. Girl cried at least in every 2 pages and acts like a bloody 12 year old. Screw it. I'm sticking to Hyakkiyakou Shou. At least no one cries in that one.

Yo! I've opened a blogspot blog thingymahjig. There I shall talk more crap then I do here. Probably add pictures too. With captions. Gotta love captions. So go and visit, mmkay?

http://lookaredumbrella.blogspot.com

Alas, my need for gore has not been satisfied. 28 Weeks Later is still elusive. Goddammit. Thus today I shall wear all black in mourning. *sighs* I need some killing, dying, gore and the like. I need some crazy movie where people blow other people up for no apparent reason. I need to watch something that does not require thinking. In other news, I seem to only be able to sleep on alternate days. What the hell is wrong with me?!

I have a question...why do all the critics talk so highly of Zodiac? I found it tediously long and somewhat unevenly paced. Sure it has its moments where it made my heart rate skyrocket but overall it was messy. Too many characters, too many plotlines, too many scenes dragged out. The pacing in the begining was fantastic but when the movie swerved to center on Robert's investigation on the Zodiac, the movie began to die a very slow death. It did not help that I was squirming in my seat trying to think of dry thoughts due to the nice BOOST I drank minutes before the movie.

Another thing. Lelouch Code Gaess. Anime like Lelouch needs a warning label. And since there it doesn't, I am forced to write one out.

WARNING!
People should suspend ANY realistic expectations for this anime is extremely prone to convienient coincidences, unrealistic sudden character developments, ability growth and a total disrespect to building a believable plot.

That and the fact that all pink haired women should always be minded for they will always be revealed as a)a Princess b)Irritating c)Extremely naive or d)All Of The Above.

*sighs* Give me more Pumpkin Scissors instead of Lelouch wearing a goddamn crazy looking rubber suit and cape. As funny as it was, the suit and his god complex grates on my nerves.

Screw this. I am in the mood for some gore. Shall go see 28 weeks later and see it if deserves the ratings it got from RottenTomatoes.

Just came back from watching Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End. So that wandering people may remain spoiler free and not stone me with bananas...( bring me that horizon )

The beachball has officially turned into a volleyball!



THE OFFICIAL REPORT


The fat has run screaming into the abyss under the assault of hardworking muscle officers. Unfortunately there are fat rebels particularly around the butt suburb who are resistant to the revolution. Further efforts to reduce their numbers to a manageable level are being discussed and placed into action.



THE OTHER NEWS

Dinner tonight! Pre-Birthday celebrations! I am getting Older. >.

A few hours ago, I went to the movies to watch 300. You know the Zack Synder movie with Gerard Butler (Phantom of the Opera dude). The one about the Battle of Thermopylae where the outnumbered Greeks fought the Persians, examplified in history as a symbol of courage? The one that determined the determined the outcome of the Battle of Salamis? (yes, I dug through Wikipedia. I feel so informed right now.)

Anyways, I sat in the cinema for 117 minutes with my brain literally chewing itself into oblivion. Why? No, it was not another Sin City brain teaser where my poor simple mind had to play connect the dots while fumming about how women are protrayed as helpless sex objects that exist just to be demeaned by the over exaggerated masculinity of males.

No.

It was the full blown wide screen view of extremely fit men complete with 6 pack abs parading around in leather underwear (yes, I know they wear cloaks but that is beyond the point. Read: Leather. Underwear.). So after about 10 minutes or so I noticed that there were scantily dressed and half naked women walking around too but my attention was then stolen away by the half naked men again (Leather. Underwear).

So there I sat. Through all the pretty SFX and nice scenery and lovely bloodthirsty violence then Xerces made his glittery half naked appearance. And my brain coughed, spluttered unintelligently and started shrieking like an unholy chorus of fangirlness "HAREM BOY". Let's not go into the scene where he held Meaningfully onto Leonidas's shoulder while asking him to kneel/submit/give in to his godly glitteriness (subtext! subtext!).

I am sure there were plenty of historical and political inaccuracies floating around the movie but Synder is one brilliant man. He craftily diverts all the attention away from the plot by throwing scene after scene of delightfully half naked men dressed in leather underwear, swords and spears and shields (we shall not discuss the subtext here), women who were made prettier by levels of undress and clever positioning next to severely deformed men and loads of violence.

So as the plot thickens, the men slice and dice and die. Our 300 heroes keep the dying part to a minimum (say a ratio of 1 Spartan dead to 1000 Persian dead). The Spartans also seemed to have made a religion out of Legolas's 'Keep Clean While Fighting A Deadly War' practice because no red cloak was seen even slightly smeared with dirt. Until the death of Atinos. Then all KCWFADW practioners threw their collective faq booklets into various bonfires and got muddy simultanously for the next scene. Maybe Atinos was the head of KCWFADW. But who cares...hey look, leather underwear! And then there was more slicing and dicing and dying.

And before the audience (women. The men probably entertained by all the slicing and dicing and dying action) can get bored, Synder the Brilliant brings forth his ultimate weapon of distraction: Stelios looked at Atinos, smiled and all was good (can you hear the Slash Chorus?). Pretty boys with abs in leather underwear playing with sharp swords are a deadly combination. My brain keeled over.

Yes, we know all about the Greek culture surrounding relationships between nubile young men. After Oliver Stone's Alexander (2004) where Colin Firth looked at Jared Leto with his kohl lined eyes, smiled and all was good...how could we not? Or Wolfgang Petersen's Troy (2004). Patroclus? Achilles's cousin? Sure. Right. Then there is the added knowledge of how pederasty influenced the history Greek military along with birth (and death) of the infamous Sacred Band of Thebes. With much effort I shall refrain from pointing at the blatant context of the *ahem* good *cough* loyal *snerks* friendship between Captain and Leonidas. Then there's the whole Atinos and Stelios tragedy. My brain put up a courageous factual struggle but it was for naught. Spartan so called chaste pederastry be damned. The context is there! Right there. In your face. On the big silver screen.

And thus after the last man died at the Hot Gates (another subtext!) and Dilios wrapped up his epic story before leading a godzillian number of men for more slicing and dicing and dying in what I suppose would be the Battle of Plataea, I went away with my brain comprehensible to just two things:

Leather underwear. Atinos and Stelios were definitely fucking.


...and Brad Pitt? Your Troy's leather miniskirt has zlich on Gerard's leather underwear. Zynder is a wicked wicked man.

Right. See here. Before I started gyming (yes, that's a word. An adjective. A description. A I-say-you-visualize-k?) I looked like a beach ball. Your round friendly brightly colored piece of blown up plastic that bounces from university and back home. So now, I have spent at LEAST a month in the gym. Or was that two months? But that's besides the point. I am a lot...a bit...SOMEWHAT thinn-...SMALLER than I was. So if I were a beach ball before, I am a basketball right now. Not a tennis ball yet but we girls are allowed to dream, alright??

So, the point being.

I am going off for a spot of dress shopping tomorrow. More specifically, dress shopping for that little black number I promised myself for my upcoming birthday in May. The nice little black number I am going to go dancing in.

So.

Let's see if I can find one that does not make me look like a beachball wrapped up in fuzziness.


(A few hours later)

Dress shopping has been cancelled. This beach ball will have to wait until next week to pretend being Cinderella.

The beach ball feels...slightly...disappointed.

But that is obscene! The world would come to a monkey shrieking halt and fall off its axis. Then it will collide into Mars and Venus and no one can ever say that women are from Venus and Mars Bars are made by men who think they are from Mars but in actuality they are from Twix bars ever again. Millions will suffer from simultanous heart attacks. The stock market will go plunging. Cardboard will be the new black and fashion critics will prowl down the streets wailing about the failure of emerging tweed with evening gloves. Run! The end of the world is we know it is upon us! Go hide under your beds. Shiver in your closets! Those in closets should think about coming out and declaring their new sexual inclination before heading back in to frolick with the dustbunnies. Go eat your last scoop of ice cream! Its The End!


Or.

In short.

I getting measured. Body fat. Muscular fitness. This Thursday.


-.-

Mwahahahah! Muscle immigration officers are kicking out illegal fat immigrants from various body suburbs. A mass migration policy has been issued and now has actively been in effect for 4 weeks. Officials are working their way through the streets. Positive attitudes are in full swing from the latest statistics that confirm immigration progress is well at hand.

Life is good. Mwahahahahahah!

Okay. I am writing.

I am writing for my masters project. I am writing for my own story. I am also writing or rather mentally writing for someone else.

In short, I am writing a lot.

However, I do not know what the heck I am writing about.

This is an...interesting situation to be in.

My fish!

My poor, poor fish.

Its debute into the frying pan was, memorable. It lost one eye. Its tail snapped off. And it lost almost half of its skin. I am not joking.

And it...didn't really end up as crunchy as I thought it would be. But then again I didn't put corn flour on it before frying so...hmmm. Dammit. Must try again next week. Wait, am I allowed to have corn flour? Oh well...

Here fishy fishy fishy.

Bought a fish today. Yes, I bought a fish. Was going to cook sweet and sour fish but didn't manage to since the luncheon I had was so massive that I had to bring some back home. So tomorrow be sweet and sour.

And hopefully tomorrow I will not feel like a old grandmother with athritis. Ohh, my poor weary bones.

Fat: Nyahahaha, thought you could get rid of us that easily huh? Well think again.

Me: Shaddup.

Funny. Yesterday I posted a question 'where would I go'. And yesterday I got my answer: gym.

Yes. You heard me. I sold out. Worn down. Sucked it up. And took my fat butt to the gym. So say hello to the newest...well, not so new but still new...member of the community that has finally bowed down to the concept of gym fitness mass consummerism the Me Generation has cultivated for the 20th Century.

So here I am staring down at my fat. And here I say expecting the fat to suddenly disolve under the weight of my annoucement, "I joined the gym."

The Fat stares defiantly back at me and maybe wobbles a little.

"I joined the gym," I repeat thinking that the concept of mental delusion might just burn some calories.

The Fat waits.

"Gym." Keyword.

The Fat waits.

"You may go now."

The Fat waits.

Screw it. I think I shall leave this migration problem to the complimentary PT with his probably complicated and painful FBER that hopefully will not put me in the ER.


Now excuse me. I need to go see what happened to my Grad Dip certifate.


ABBR:

PT - Personal trainer
FBER - Fat Burning Exercise Routine
ER - Where white walls are white and you run from nurses who want to give you injections.

Yesterday I caught myself wondering where would I go. Not 'where will I go after this university phrase is over'. Not 'where can I go that will not bust my bank account'. Just 'where would I go'. A simple question. It is a little strange. A little nostalgic.

Things seem more temporary now than it did a week ago. Even my room is no more something of a comforting sanctuary. I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff. Not unlike those few seconds before leaping off into twenty-five thousand feet of air. That petrifying yet glorious mindblowing feeling. Is that what growing up is all about?

So. After I jump off that edge. After I leave solid ground.

Where would I go?

Six more months until I graduate. After that I will be leaving the safety of a student's life. For some reason I feel so skittish. The enthusiam that I had right after finishing my grad dip vanished and I feel so insecure about myself. There is so much I do not know. Even right now I do not seem to be able to do the simplest things. How will I ever manage to fend for myself when I am so helpless? What happened?

I...am in love...with a cat. O.o Therefore...tomorrow I...shall go the the..beach.

Did that make any sense?

Ladies and gentlemen,

The results are out. Its ALL distinctions, baby! All distinctions! Now I shall go rejoice with a celebration of Krispy Cremes!