oh, FINE.

So yeah.  I'm moving ye olde blog to LJ.  *dies of shock* :P

I don't know how long it'll last, but I am a sucker for Internet peer pressure, so we shall see.  I'm afraid my bitchy non-PC rants and general distaste for the world will get me in trouble with a 'larger' audience over here (as it always has before, hence my long-term affinity for private journals), but who cares.  If ya don't like it, don't read it.  Anyhow, I'm lolab (I hate how nothing is capitalized; it's supposed to be LolaB, my nom de plume), so friend me and then I will kindly friend you back, if you are not a weirdo.

Sub-subject line would have been: "from amelie to the sacred feminine and the psycho in between..."

(What is my thing for not capitalizing subject lines?  I should psychoanalyze that.  Except not.)

Incidentally, how the hell do I change my headline?  Obviously I am not "only here to lurk" anymore.

Yeah.  So last weekend we rented "He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not" (or, because I am an intellectual whore, "À la folie... pas du tout," which does not translate remotely close to the English title - *sticks nose in air and storms off*), because Audrey is freaking adorable and makes us squee beyond measure.

Anyhoo, we were under the very distinct impression that it was a romantic comedy.

This was not so.

Finally got around to watching it last night: folks, this film is neither romantic nor comedic.  If you want a really artistically well-done foreign film (which I always enjoy, being a film student), SEE IT.  If you like squealing over Audrey Tautou, DO NOT SEE IT.  She scares me now.

But only partially, because she says things that make me love her, like, "I wouldn't mind being in an American film for a laugh, but I certainly don't want to be in Thingy Blah Blah 3, if you know what I mean."

How dare she presume to diss Thingy Blah Blah 1 and 2.  As a proud American, I am insulted.

(This is where you all die of laughter, not because of my Thingy joke but because I said I was a proud American.  LOLZ OMG.  Me a proud American.  That is so teh funny shizznit.)

Me during the movie: "See, this is why you can never cheat on me.  I would turn into this."

Speaking of, when I came home from class yesterday she gave me a present: a Scrat mini-poster (ICE AGE 2 EEEEEEEEEEEEEE SCRAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and a fucking AWESOME Underworld: Evolution poster.  Two of them, actually.  One for each of us.  She bitched about how they cost her $7.  I kissed her lots.

(My inconsistency with using/not using quotes when writing out movie titles bothers me.)

Somewhere along a related tangent, I have the greatest mother-in-law in the universe.  Sharon is actually thinking of *GIVING US THE HOUSE* when we are ready to have a house a few years from now, assuming we can take over the mortgage payments.  Do you know how FUCKING AWESOME that is??  I love Keri's house and neighborhood so much; there's nowhere else in the area I'd rather live.  We have big plans already; her room is going to be painted blue and turned into a yoga room, and we're going to have all these awesome framed movie posters around the house and whatnot, in addition to framed prints of our own respective photography.  Everyone will have to visit - after attending the Goblet of Fire wedding, of course. ;)

I am way excited.  A hearty non-Audrey-inspired SQUEE is in order, I think.

And GO ME for sleeping last night.  I'm impressed.

Oh dear GOD, should I even mention it lest I jinx it?  I have become so addicted to the Harry Potter game it's not even funny.  I played six hours of it in a 14-hour period a couple days ago.  a) I suck at flying.  b) Now I'm at this level where Snape just sent me to the dungeons to get ingredients and I CAN'T DO ANYTHING.  I'm supposed to be able to do stuff but I think I'm trapped in this room/cave where there's nothing to do.  I am exceedingly frustrated and I may be pulling out my hair at some point soon if I do not figure it out.

Keri is possibly coming up here during my two-hour break today (this and next week's schedules are so nuts) to, uh, play with me.  Her: "Is the parking deck crowded these days?"  Me: "Uh, yeah..."  Her: *lewd grin* "Even the top floor?"  Me: *lg* "Probably not..."

Heh.

Back in the Writing Center as of this morning... WE HAVE DOUGHNUTS OMG.  I ate a chocolate-covered cream-filled one because I am horny.  And Karen is talking about porn - actually, now EVERYONE is talking about porn, including the people with PhD's.  I've forgotten how much I love working here.

Speaking of things like doughnuts, the area outside the Admissions Hall this morning smelled like French toast sticks.  I was filled with joy, then became depressed, because there is no place anywhere near campus at which to acquire French toast sticks.

Karen Quote of the Day: "Masturbation is better than feet."

(Me: "Can I quote that on my  journal?" Karen: "Especially if you've got feet like mine...")

( And a cheesy sex survey, to make up for the last survey I posted, which was extremely non-sexual and thus dull as all hell. )

i update too much.

Does it say something for my level of maturity that I never cease to be amused by the following sort of spam?

"pretty-pretty familly harrdcore fuckiing!"

 

That one is vaguely reminiscent of five-dolla-sucky-sucky.  Some of my recent favorites include "goluptious [yes, goluptious] virgins!" and "pulchritudinous incest scenes!" I know they're going for the root "pulchra" (Latin = beautiful) but is pulchritudinous really a word?  And if it is, it is so awkward that it should be banned from use.

I know they're doing it to beat the spam blockers, but clearly it isn't working.  No mind; I derive joy from it and that's all that matters.

 

Awhile ago I had to walk a wheeled (though feebly so) cooler over to the Science Building.  (To put that in perspective, it is like 85 degrees out today and the Science Building is the farthest possible building from where I work.  Death to all.)  Outside the Science Building was a broom.  A little beat-up, but overall an average looking broom, save for one thing: the sweeper end was seriously damaged.  There is absolutely no other description for the way it looked other than to say it appeared that someone had flown it in a Quidditch match and suffered a minor accident.

 

I was very pleased.

 

Earlier on another work-related delivery, these guys were playing frisbee outside the Student Center, and as I walked by, the frisbee flew toward me and landed on the ground nearby.  Normally, this sort of gesture might be interpreted as flirtation, which I am certainly used to from guys, because let's face it, I'm 5' 9" and I have nice long legs.  Which I like to show off.  However, there is a glitch:

 

a) I went way butch today.  I've been femme-ing it up the last couple weeks and I didn't want my new classmates to think I'm some sort of girly LUG or something.  Shudder.

b) When I threw the frisbee back to them, one of the guys said "Thanks, man."  I nodded in a very man-like manner, and if I'm not mistaken, I believe he added (though more quietly) something to the effect of, "I mean, uh..." which suggests he originally thought I was a guy.

 

I don't often get mistaken for a guy - neither Keri nor I are particularly butch (we can go either way depending on our moods), and I'm more femme than not, so when it does happen, it amuses me greatly.

 

Heh; it's so fucking awesome to be able to go over and read my ex's journal every couple months and *not* have it drive me to some mad wild state of anger and hatred anymore.  Now I can just read it and sincerely feel nothing but apathy.  And amusement, because she is still writing in the exact same I'm-from-Harvard-so-I'm-naturally-witty style (which gets exceedingly dull and predictable after a short while), and writing the same dykey political rants and acting like she's just such a good person.

 

It makes me laugh. :-D

 

Oh; she's slammerkinbabe, if anyone wants to go play with her.  I suppose if she's not your ex she'd probably make a nice, interesting addition to your friends list.  She's a good, sweet, intelligent person.  But I hate her.  She left me at the very moment I needed her most, and it almost killed me.  So don't judge me.  T'ank you.

 

It is especially fantastic because she is not a physically attractive person and we both know she's never going to get someone like me in her bed ever again.  (Not that I'm Angelina Jolie, but compared to my ex, well, I am.)  She's short and fat and so is her girlfriend and I know it's very mean and admittedly a dirt-cheap shot but I'm so glad Keri and I are so much hotter than they are.  I'm way better than her (and all the people who ignored me through adolescence) at getting chicks and I just happened to get my soulmate in the process.  So yes; it makes me happy because I am immature that way.

 

Not many things make me happy so I take what I can get. :P

 

Keri at lunch: "If I don't get to fuck you tonight I'M GOING TO GO CRAZY."

 

She threw me up against the bathroom wall shortly after - rather forcefully, actually (not that I'm complaining).  It was a miracle I didn't crack my head open.

Anyway, she can fuck me all she wants, but she's not getting any herself because she was up till 3a.m. getting herself off.  Because apparently she really wanted me and I wasn't there.  But that is no excuse.  Whore.  Obviously she doesn't need MY help. :P

We shared sesame chicken and our fortune cookies told me I was going to be presented with a musical opportunity soon (...Keri then asked me if I wanted to go on the Warp Tour; I did not - screw you, musical opportunities) and told Keri that she would be involved in some humanitarian project soon.  Not bloody likely.

 

Since I am new here and so everyone will love me (God, I am a whore), here are three fantastic links (though sadly everyone has probably seen them already).  These are especially for Sarah, who was bored and wanted links. :P

 

http://www.thebricktestament.com

http://www.landoverbaptist.com

http://www.winterson.com.nyud.net:8090/2005/06/episode-iii-backstroke-of-west.html

 

There.  Eat them up.  Or suck it. :P

Twenty minutes before my Shakespeare class... there was no way I was going to lug the 40-lb book to campus so I found the readings online and am playing the if-the-browser-window-is-open-then-it-counts-as-studying game perusing them now.

Word.