I really do want to see Harry Potter fight an Ogre muppet.

I'm a little bored with all the special effects in movies these days. Unless it's something I haven't seen before, like a baby carriage blown up, I don't really need it. Today, it's all about CGI. I think it's cool that we can make movies solely on a computer, no camera needed, but it drives me crazy when they only use it to short cut (ahem, George Lucas, cough cough). George Lucas, you say? I have this theory as to why people like the first set of Star Wars movies from the 70's better than the second set of the 90's and 00's. Yoda. He used to be a muppet. A very hands-on, real, and I could touch him, muppet. NOW, he's a look towards the green screen, invisible, pretend he's sitting next to you, develop a complex, CGI cartoonish shorty. People just like the muppets, sorry Georgie. Look how much hard work went into that first set of movies, I'm not saying people don't like the newer movies, they do (I love Natalie Portman), but it's just not the same.

Another example, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Why did they use CGI to duplicate the Oompa Loompas? Is it too much trouble to get more actors? The scenery didn't match the actors (with lighting and such) and the Oompa Loompas only matched themselves. Let's get more technical people! In film school they teach you not to make your characters look like 3D pop-up stickers.

I think that's why I love classic movies so much. It's innocent and amazing what kinds of sets and costumes and creatures they had to build (yeah, that's right build, no CGI here), and it was based off of great dialogue. I really am a sucker for great dialogue. Nowadays, script comes second, and effects first. Did anyone see that movie when Fred Astaire tap-danced up the wall, onto the ceiling, and back down again? That wasn't a camera trick, it was the set that was turning around.

Alright, enough of that. I need food.

If only I had a convertible

One time as I was driving along, I began considering Ghandi and
all he had to say about nonviolent resistance, and his love for all
creatures man and beast. It was a beautiful day, and I was looking at
the sky, and I must have hit literally 200 chickens.

a not-so-much retraction

Did anyone notice that I put "Lunkily" instead of "Luckily" for my November 26th post? Wow. "C" and "N" aren't even that close to each other on the keyboard.

I like to make up words that sound like other words and mean the same thing as those other words. . . you know, just to confuse people.





Hey, I think I need a haricut.

This is when I really had things to talk about

Look at these old Facebook posts I left for Lee.

Robyn Reeves wrote
at 10:17am on April 26th, 2005
Leet, this is your best friend talking. Where are you right now? I think you found agood picture. Did you notice that I put "agood"? It actually really is a typo, but I am too lazy to go back and fix it, so instead I am going to sit here and talk about my mistake because that is how bored I am. I like inventing new words. Its fun. I feel another one coming......gwad. Ha ha ha. Wouldn't you like to know what that means? It's a secret... I mean, really that's what it means "secret" because I said so. I'm not hiding this from you really. Ok, I'm going to stop typing before I make myself look anymore like a loser. Too late. Bye. -Beet

Robyn Reeves wrote
at 6:42pm on May 26th, 2005
Lee, This is your best friend talking...again. I hope everything is great. I miss you madly. I read Aaron's comment and it sounds like he wants to eat you. He is a wolf. You should read this passage in a french accent, it makes it funnier. I'm not feeling very witty at the moment so you are going to have to meet me half-way on this one. Yadda yadda yadda. I just put that there because with a french accent it is high-larious. Anyway, bye. ~Robyn

If I only had a brain. . . or a job

I feel very much blocked when it comes to writing these days. Maybe I've been out of material? Great, I'm not a fan of being a half-way almost grown-up. Lunkily, half-way almost grown-ups don't have to pay rent because their parents are awesome, so I can volunteer instead of trying to make lots of money in something that's NOT my field. I don't need money. People get crazy and materialistic over it. To set things straight, I'm not being lazy when it comes to job searching. I'm trying as best as I can when I'm not working at my current overbearing job. Let's just hope that doors will open up soon, especially once the holiday season lets up. I like how I wrote that last sentence like I was talking about rain, because the holidays can cause such a drizzle. . . but in a good way. Speaking of which, this year I have to participate in the adult's White Elephant gift exchange this year. I've been bumped from the little cousin Secret Santa. I guess my family doesn't believe in half-way almost grown-ups.

Will Ferrell is The Phantom of the Opera

Nathan found this. . . it cracked me up.

Still trying to get my own Roman Holiday. . .

So I learned from Becky, at dinner tonight, that the word "romance" comes from Rome. Sort of interesting that some things are so obvious that even when you look straight at them it doesn't click. It's kind of like when you're trying to find your glasses and they're on top of your head. Anyway, this only helps my case when I say that Italy is a wonderful place to be when you have a "someone."

Those Romans, they get it right.

deadly reading habits

I feel like I need to write some inspiratinal after that stupid, stupid rant. . . but I got nothing. Sorry guys. It's been a long, long week, but things are much better.

So instead, I'm going to insert an interesting story here:

(March 1993, Florida) A 24-year-old salesman from Hialeah was killed near Lantana in March when his car smashed into a pole in the median strip of Interstate 95 in the middle of the afternoon. Police said that the man was traveling at 80 MPH and, judging by the sales manual that was found open and clutched to his chest, had been busy reading.

Got any other bright ideas?

It's late and I'm frustrated. My computer is being unbelievably slow due to media uploading issues for my new website. I can't take it anymore. I'm tired and thinking about throwing this stupid laptop through the tree that's tapping at the window. I know that sounds hard to do . . . to throw a laptop through one side of a tree so it will smash out of the other, but I am just that frustrated. I could make that happen, I think.

I feel like I'm being picked on, sort of. Not by God, but maybe it is by God? I mean, there isn't another higher power up there and I know I'm being really selfish right now, but I feel like everything that I've been trying to complete lately is blowing up in my face. Yes, there are less fortunate people out there. Yes, everyone has bad days, weeks, months, years. Yes, it probably could be worse. Yes, I could probably just use some help and a hug.

I finally caved in and asked for help yesterday, after almost two weeks of me being stubborn and trying to figure it out on my own. I know that sounds bad, but I always feel like the reward is greater when I do it myself. Like when you save up for a trip, without anyone else chipping in. Or when you clean up your room, without anyone telling you to or helping out, just because you wanted to.

Anyway, I digress.

I know there is a line that I crossed somewhere, when was the right time to back down and ask for help? It seems like I'm the only one in my family who speaks computer jargon. And the people I've called only really know what I'm talking about if they look at it, because my computer problem is so screwed up. However, they can't look at it because I work terrible hours and till late (later now because of the holiday season) and they have real jobs starting very early.

Does this mean I should stop trying to strive for the internship? Is this a sign? They wanted me to do a small assignment for them, which I've been putting endless amounts of hours into, but all this work and no payoff, does that mean it's not the right time yet? I feel picked on. I'm going to be stuck in this terrible retail gig and no other job opportunity is going to show up and I'm going to be the failure stuck in her parents house until they die all because I couldn't get a website working properly.

Maybe that's a little dramatic.

Dear God,
Help me move out. I love your work.
Best regards, Robyn.

A PEEK inside the employee handbook

". . . all staff must practice proper hygeine routines before arriving to work, otherwise. . ."

Um. . .


Yeah, I'm in trouble.

Dad's diet #1

#1: Today Dad went searching for the last disappearing marshmellow bar inside the garbage can.

I made a new friend!

Jason's holding the lid from a can of spackle, "You know those movies where a person gets a face full of pie? This kind of looks like that."

Me, "Are you saying that lid looks like pie?"

"Doesn't it look like that?"

"Not really."

"Are you sure? I can test it out on your face."

"If you're saying that's like pie, you must be willing to eat it then."

"I don't like spackle pie."

"Well, I don't like a face full of spackle. . . or lemon meringue."

"I love lemon meringue. How do you not like lemon meringue?"

"Do you like pumpkin pie?"

"Yes, I love pumpkin pie!"

"Those are the only 2 pies I don't like."

"Well, I don't like you!"

"Well, pie doesn't like you! I want to push you off that ladder. Can I push you off that ladder? Would you be mad if I pushed you off that ladder?"

"You could try, but I'd land on my feet."

"Like a cat?"

"Well, if I don't land on my feet, as soon as I got back up I come after you and I run fast."

"Oooh. I'm so scared."

"You better be."

The verdict and they even apologized

Hmmmmm. Well, I went into work today and I still have a job. Shamalama!

Dum dum dum

So I was scheduled to work till 9 p.m. last night, but on the daily breakdown my name went till 11 p.m. I was frustrated. I don't mind working extra hours, because basically we could all use the extra money, but the fact it was British Thanksgiving and they ASSUMED I had no life to stay and work, AND they never asked me too in the first place. . . . . . . . it's all just an insult to my way of being. Deep right?

Of course me being who I am, I'm terrible with confrontation, so I almost never do it. I'm usually that character in the movie who just deals with the fact they're being stepped on and moves on. I usually just get my revenge later on and secretly.

Grudges are dumb.

If there is a point where there is absolutely no way out of the situation, I'll rehearse and rehearse and rehearse what I'm going to say and then breathlessly whip out word vomit to the antagonist. OR write out a letter. Usually, I won't send them.

Still pathetic.

Anyway, since confontation seemed like a bad idea(at the time) AND I didn't care if I were to get fired, since I hate my job anyway (I'm using very little creativity at work) I just decided to leave. One reason I haven't been able to quit yet was because of the confrontation factor. So, I didn't tell anyone, I just grabbed my stuff out of my locker and left the building at the time I was originally scheduled to end my shift. 9 p.m.

Sadly, I wasn't sneaky about it all, I just left and went to British Thanksgiving. I'm a little sad I didn't make more of a spy thing out of it, I was probably just so mad I wanted to get out of there. Anyway, I won't know till Wednesday if they found out or not.

We'll see.

Gene Kelly comercial

I'm still speechless. I must have watched this 7 times.