Goin' to the Movies

GOOD MORNING KWIZZLE FO SHIZZLE MAN NANA NANA BLOB SCHLIZZLE!
(Trust me, I hate myself just as much as you do right now)

First off -- loved the video, it make me think of several Waldo-esque memories. Like remember the one where all of the people looked like Waldo so you had to find the one that wasn’t wearing a sock? But in the copy in the Swarthmore Public Library had a corner of the book ripped out, and I’m pretty sure that the Waldo with no socks was on the part that was ripped, SO YOU COULD NEVER ACTUALLY FIND WALDO. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m not quite pretentious enough to flesh it out. Maybe later if I can’t think of anything else to write about.

To be totally honest, my favorite part of Where’s Waldo was finding the Wizard. Partly because he was a wizard but also because he was always easier to find. I wonder if there will be a google doodle on the anniversary. It would be really awesome if they had some sort of interactive thing. YOU’VE BEEN CHALLENGED GOOGLE.

Also the connection between SNL and the phrase “THIS SHIT IS REAL” can be found in the sketches where Kenan Thompson and the host play convicts who are pulled in to talk to young delinquents in a scared straight program, and they try to tell the plots of movies as real things that actually happened. I tried to find a clip, but hulu was not havin’ it. The best one was the one where Lindsay Lohan was hosting and she just told her actual story. (Or maybe it is part of digital short too, I can’t remember)

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT:
(Bro-fives to anyone who gets that reference)

So lately I’ve been thinking about how important it is to me to see movies in theaters. I’ve only been living here a month, and I’ve been to the theater across the street from my dorm four times. It seems unusual to me to have seen a movie once a week for a month, but at the same time this has been a very long month. The first time was in the depressingly long four days in between orientation and classes starting, when I went to see The Dark Knight Rises for the third time, because I just needed something to do. The next time, a few days later, was to see Lawless with my roommate. If you’re considering seeing that movie, know that it’s not terrible, but be prepared to see Tom Hardy’s have his throat graphically slit, and then grab at it in attempts to stop the bleeding. This is just one of many violent and emotionally traumatic scenes. The third time was to see The Master, and it was also the first time I’ve ever gone to see a movie in theaters by myself. And then this afternoon, again with my roommate, I went to see The Perks of Being a Wallflower, which also involved a lot of emotions, but I’ll write more on that some other time.

I think what I like most about seeing things in theaters is that you know you’re seeing the movie in the way it was intended to be shown. Similar to when you go to see really good live music, once the show starts, everything else ceases to matter. Like when I went to see The Master by myself, at first I was really self conscious about being alone. It was an 11 o’clock showing, so the theater wasn’t very busy, and the only people in there were college students like me, and a few friendly middle-aged gay couples. Still, I was terrified that I was going to run into someone I know, although I’m not entirely sure why. But once the movie started it was easy not to care at all.

I realize that everything I’m saying on the subject is pretty generic, but that brings me to the other reason why I love going to see movies. Pretty much everyone who goes to a theater has roughly the same movie-going experience, regardless of whether they liked the movie or not. In the way theaters are laid out, if there is one annoying person talking, everyone can hear them. Or if someone gets up to leave during the movie, everyone notices. It’s one of the few activities that truly is a communal experience. But you don’t even have to interact with other people, which makes it all the more appealing to an introvert like me.
KIND OF ABRUPT ENDING BECAUSE I DON’T REALLY FEEL LIKE WRITING ANYMORE.

I’ll leave with my jam of the week again:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v--IqqusnNQ
Brings me back to when I saw The Life Aquatic for the first time

Hey Hey

Oh your post -LOL.  "This shit is for real" reminds me of an SNL Lonely Island Digital Short.  Probably on a boat, when they’re like “THIS BOAT IS REAL” I could see Emerson peeps be like “THIS IS FOR REAL, MUTHA FUCKA."  With a captain hat on, hipster-style.

Anywho,

Here's the video from who-knows when (for organizational purposes), and a new one.

Early September

Late September: Apples and Waldo



Love ya

K. Wizzle

Work Ethic and Such

Good morning Kirsten,

It’s a lovely Monday morning, and I’m sitting here in my balaclava, sipping up some bold coffee mixed with my finest potato vodka. The weak shit is for pussies. I’m thinking about heading down the citadel to see some quality figure-skating, but I’m not sure if I can face the cold after sitting so comfortably by the fire. Perhaps I’ll just do a series of pushups instead, so that I can buff up my arms and not be embarrassed to showcase my tattoo sleeves. (as you can see, all of my flawed knowledge of Russian culture is based off of Rocky IV and the villain from Iron Man 2, so I’m not really sure how to cater to our Russian viewers that we apparently have. Also a quick wikipedia search reveals that the balaclava was actually invented in the Ukraine. Go figure.)(I should probably know that since my 6th grade country was Ukraine)

Side note, but my dad gets his glasses from these hilarious Russian immigrants in New York named Igor and Natasha. They’re very good at what they do, but they have really thick accents which just makes talking them even more interesting. Like when Igor was fitting my dad’s glasses, Natasha told me about making glasses for soldiers during the war, using as few verbs as possible. “Ve must travael 6 mile by foot in cold to abandoned koke-a-kola faktory vor glass. Frames made out of metal skraps vfrom dead man’s collektion.” (still not entirely sure what she meant by “dead man’s collection.”) And then when Igor called to tell my dad that his glasses were ready, he left the simplistic message, “Is Igor. Ve hhave glasses.” click

So anywhoo it turns out that I’m really bad at posting to this blog. I said my posting day was going to be Thursday, but many a Thursday has passed and yet I remain silent. I think my problem is that I’ll have an idea for a blog, but then I’ll say “nahh, I’ll write it later,” and continue to catch up on Breaking Bad on Netflix. I guess the general universal lesson is to just do things when you first think of it, or at least do it while you still want to. No matter the project, it’s easier to be productive when your mind isn’t on other things. Like if you’re trying to do homework, but you really just want to sleep, it’s easier to focus on the homework after you take a nap. Or if you want to exercise, (Ha, good one Zo. Thanks I try), but you have to read, it will be easier to read after running. But on the other hand this is also a great way to get distracted and procrastinate. Like if you have to write a paper, and you decide to just watch one episode of Breaking Bad. But then the episode ends in a huge cliffhanger, like Walt just watches Jesse’s girlfriend die and doesn’t do a damn thing to stop it, and then boom, cut to end credits. (Spoiler alert). So I’m not sure if this advice is really helpful at all, or that I’m at all qualified to offer advice in any subject.

This has been a kind of pointless blog post, but at least I wrote something. In the future I’m going to try to use fewer parenthetical phrases. I’ll leave you with my jam of the week:




(Alex Turner of the Arctic Monkeys wrote a lot of the music for the movie Submarine directed by Richard Ayaode, which is an awesome movie and everyone should watch it.)

Hey...

So, the rest of my post will come a-laters, but here's just somethin' real quick -- CUZ YA GOT TO KNOW THIS INFO.

Love ya!

Kirsten

Moving In and Orientating

WOO HOO first blog post! (from Zoë). I'll usually post on Thursdays, but for these first ones anything goes.

THE SHOPPING:
As usual, you approached this from a way more organized standpoint, making lists and such. I just things when I thought about them, which resulted in one trip to Ikea, three trips to Bed Bath and Beyond, and a few trips to CVS once in Boston. Side note but the "beyond" part of Bed Bath and Beyond isn't very expansive. I mean they have all the kitchen stuff and the lovely "as seen on tv" section, but that's a pretty depressing representation of the abstract idea of "beyond."

THE BOMBARDMENT OF QUESTIONS:
When you come from a place as small as Swarthmore it's very difficult to answer the question, "So where are you from?" I've taken to just saying Philadelphia, and then only saying "Well, a suburb of it," if the person asks a follow up question. I've found that when you answer with "Swarthmore Pennsylvania," the people who haven't heard of the college think that you're a hick from Pennsyltuckey, and the people who HAVE heard of the college think you're a crazy liberal-hippy-environmentalist who doesn't shave their legs or armpits and goes commando.

Then there's the major question, which at Emerson is kind of hilarious because we all pretend to know what all the majors actually entail. Like, if someone answers with Marketing and Communication, we're like, "Oh cool, I have an uncle or something that does that." Or with Political Science, "HOLY SHIT we've got James Carville over here!"

You're totally right about the majors that can be described as a verb or activity. For instance it's much easier to answer with "animation" than it is to answer with "corporate communications." The sociology majors have it the worst, bless their hearts.

When you answer the major question with Film like I do, the follow up question is usually, "Oh and what are you interested in doing?" And then you have to come to terms with the fact that (mostly) everyone wants to direct, and that not all of us will continue to want to direct, and that if you choose something else it's like you gave up on your childhood dream, and that even though it's completely unlikely that out of several hundred freshmen film students all of them will hold on to that dream, there will still be that small part of us that secretly wants to be David Fincher, and that only David Fincher can actually BE David Fincher, and that we're not ready to have our dreams crushed like that, and that run on lists are a very grammatically irresponsible way to construct a sentence.

In general, things keep on flip-flopping in between, "you guys are going to have so much fun in Boston," and, "you're going to work so hard because THIS SHIT IS REAL!" (Or o-fish-e-al as you would say). As odd as it may sound  I'm looking forward to the work way more than I'm looking forward to the other stuff, maybe just because this may be this first time that I'm really pursuing something I honestly care about. And the knowledge that I'm passionate about what I'm about to do makes the whole thing seem way more manageable than if not, which is why I would encourage others to do the same.

College: It's O-Fish-e-Al

‘Ello y’alls—this is K.Wise, the Ithaca-going one of this shindig.  As you may or may not know, this whole thing is pretty much a convo between Zoë and I.  We’ll talk about random shit, pertaining to our college experiences and pop culture and all.  Expect a lot of movie quotes, Toy Story Love, and… Yeah man.

ALRIGHT, SO….

 Let’s start at the beginning, which was not shopping or ordering books or any of that shit – it was when the Target commercial featuring kids who just got accepted to college came out and for weeks I pretended I was the dude who looked like Lil’ Wayne, because it’s o-fish-e-al. For some reasons he pulled that off better than I.  Secret Wish: If I could have any hairstyle for a week, I’d probably go for the dreads.  Not the nasty kind but the cool kind, nose-ring-optional sort, that I could literally pile on top of my head.  And put a giant baseball cap over and give extra syllables to words, because shit man, I have freakin’ dreads.  Or I’d wear long skirts and a shit-ton of bangles and sandals my friend gave to me when she went to India and parade around an art fest or just show up randomly in another field, like one filled with peewee-football-leaguers and their protective parents, and stop in the center of said field, not noticing at anyone, and do a little dance, preferably with a hula hoop or one of those gymnastic ribbons, look up at an impressing cloud, and peace out of there.

Or of course put a bandana over my braids and pretend I’m Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow.  But that’s so obvious I honestly probably did not have to mention it, y’all were thinking it anyway.

THEN, THE SHOPPING.

  I divided my list to basically two places: Bed Bath and Beyond and Target.  Triple B was mostly the front of the mullet ‘do and Target (sometimes pronounced Tar’shay if you’re feelin’ fancy) was the party in the back.  Meaning at Triple B I got the shelving, body pillow, towels, those things and at Target I got the patterned dishware and turquoise clothes basket.  Honestly, that’s when it really all starts to hit, and you’re like “Damn, now that I have matching hangers, I really feel that the next step of my journey of life is going to begin.”

THEN, THE BOMBARDMENT OF QUESTIONS

Mostly, the major one.  Here is the short answer:

“So what’s your major?”

“Writing.”

Sounds like a winner, right?  So then I go into, “Well, I could go into profession writing (a wee bit better), or creative writing, I’ll try to do both, and we have to minor in at least one thing, so… I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but there’s lots of opportunities… like internships.”

Basically, if your major can be understood as a verb or activity, Lucy, ya gots some explaining to do.  I could only imagine if my major was philosophy.  See, back in the day you could do that shit, go to classes for funsies and sound ridiculous and as if college was a side job, as if the degree was just a result of your corduroy attire or super long and fantabulous beard.  But college is not just four years (or seven years, in Bluto’s case) of shit and gigs anymore, it’s o-fish-e-al.