Valmont vs. Dangerous Liaisons

For the final project in my costume design class, we're doing Midsummer Night's Dream. I'm setting mine inside an 18th century painting. What I'm actually doing for the costumes is another post, but I like watching movies while I'm drawing the costumes. Since I'm doing 18c, I've been watching a lot of period movies. Today, I really wanted to watch Dangerous Liaisons, but I can't find my DVD (grrr....) and it isn't on Netflix instant streaming. So I'm watching Valmont on instant streaming instead.

I'm about halfway through now and incredibly disappointed. Let me sum it up for you: Annette Benning is about forty gajillion times sweeter than Glenn Close, making the whole thing with Cecile's mother being all "you're such a good influence, spend more time with my daughter!!" a lot more believable, but also makes the whole calculating manipulative female version of a player incredibly unbelievable.

It's the same problem with Colin Firth. I haven't gotten to the bit where Cecile sleeps with him, but I can't see him seducing her the way John Malkovich does. It just isn't plausible. On the other hand, in Dangerous Liaisons I spend the whole time trying to figure out what Michelle Pfeiffer actually sees in Malkovich.

The rest of the characters honestly seem pretty much the same between the two. I like Michelle Pfeiffer better than the no name playing Madame de Tourvel and this Cecile manages to be innocent without annoying me, but otherwise they're pretty evenly matched.

But then there's the costumes.

See, at first glance, some of them are 18c and some are just 18c inspired. But then there's a scene where you Cecile changing clothes. They unlace her back (ok, that's believable. She's 15 wearing one of those transition gowns where it closes in the back but looks like it's front opening), and that's when you realize that her gown is actually separate petticoat and bodice, and I'm fairly certain the sleeves were separate from the bodice... And she has one petticoat. And the paniers are part of the petticoat.

Anyway, so once she's taken off this monstrosity (which was only sort of a monstrosity before you realized how it was made) you realize that she's wearing some kind of weird tank top with shorts with lace on the cuffs. This is also when you realize that her stays were part of her bodice.

And don't get me started on the thing she puts on. This is a scene that has no equivalent in Dangerous Liaisons. Basically the Marquise is trying to get Cecile and Chavalier to hook up, so she arranges for them to meet in a brothel. When Cecile gets there, a woman helps her change into this... thing.... It's multiple pieces, same as what she took off, only the pannier-petticoat-thing is only as long as panniers... Like if you made panniers out of your fashion fabric. Ish. And there's all this veily stuff hanging around everywhere. It was bizarre.

So far, that's been the only pathetic foray into undergarment land.

The gowns themselves vary. They're all clearly wearing stays (or their bodices are stayed...), and somehow they all have full skirts, even if it's only one petticoat. It does move like it's multiple. The trim, cut, and sleeves are the problem.

But that's before I start complaining about the fabric. I know about this much *holds up fingers barely a millimeter apart* about prints and even I know some of these prints are atrocious. My favorite so far I think is the coat Colin Firth is wearing when you first meet him. It's this white floral print (and looks practically identical to the print Cecile is wearing in the same scene... Which entertained me immensely...). I'm not saying you can't have a print on a man's coat. I'm just saying if you want to put one on a man's coat, you'd better go ask someone who knows more than me 'cause my instinct is no way, jose. I'm not sure I've ever seen that... And the print itself strikes me as very much not right. It's very... open, I guess is the right word. Very white. With very pink flowery stuff. It just looks funny, especially on the coat...

And then there are the wigs. The women's hair is all over the place and I have complaints about every single style in every single scene. The men are all wearing those wigs where the hair is less than two inches long all around the head and just kind of tries to lie flat until it gets to the ponytail. They look so stupid....

Ok. That's my rant. I'm going back to my drawing (and really lousy movie) now.

A letter to Lieutenant Joe Cable

Dear Joe,

You've got a great voice. Really, it's lovely. I've got one problem with it though.

The young romantic lead is supposed to be a tenor. Not a baritone. Not a bass. A tenor. When there's multiple male leads, you should be able to tell them apart by their range. Look at virtually every show on the planet, the romantic lead is a tenor. When there's more than one romantic lead, like you and Emil in South Pacific, the young one is a tenor and the old one is a baritone or bass. When there's multiple leads and some are romantic and some aren't, the romantic one is the tenor. Don't ask me why. It's just true. Look at Phantom of the Opera, multiple romantic male leads, like South Pacific. Raoul, the young guy, is a tenor. The Phantom, the old (well, older) guy is a baritone (ok, not so great example 'cause a lot of guys can play both. But the parts are written so Raoul pretty much always sings a bit higher....). Look at Les Mis. Three male leads, Marius, the romantic guy, is a tenor. Javert and Valjean are a) older and b) not romantic, they've got epically awesome baritone-y bass-y parts (since I've never actually had to worry about the difference between a bass and a baritone, being neither, I'm not really clear on what defines the two.... I just know a baritone doesn't go as low... I'm inclined to think it's like the difference between a mezzo and a soprano, but I have no idea....).

You're a young romantic dude. That means you don't get to sing low. I'm sorry. I know it's disappointing. But it's true. I know lower is cooler. Don't get me wrong, you sound awesome. You're the only young romantic male lead I've ever even remotely crushed on (I tend to be indifferent to tenors.... That is when I don't actively dislike them... I'm a sucker for a bass. I mean, Some Enchanted Evening? I'm in heaven. Virtually everything Javert sings? Awesome. But I totally zone out during everything Marius sings....). But you have no business singing so low. I used to never be able to remember if you or Emil sings Younger Than Springtime 'cause you sing it so damn low!!!!

Unfortunately, South Pacific is one of the shows that I've never seen on stage and I don't think I've ever even heard the recording of the stage version (apparently the whole world likes Mitzi Gaynor better than Mary Martin...), so I have no idea if this is your fault or Rodgers and Hammerstein's. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's either their fault or the idiot people casting in the '50s when all the R&H were filmed, since I seem to recall Lunta in the King and I being epically low as well (and also being pretty epic sounding in his lowness...). On the other hand, the Sound of Music gets it right. The Captain is on the lower end and whats-his-face (the one who winds up being a Nazi and has the hots for Liesel. Or is it Liesl?) being annoyingly high in that tenor-like way.

So I'm thinking it's the fault of whoever made the R&H movies about Asians, or at least who ever dealt with who sang what.

Or R&H just randomly decided in two of their shows they'd make the guys who really OUGHT to be tenors be baritones/basses.

Alright. I'm sorry. It was unfair of me to blame you. But you are an easy target. Remember, I'd totally avoid you if you sang higher..........

Sincerely, Wendy

Eff You, Drug Companies

I very rarely swear when I post things on line. This post is going to be one of those rare times when I'm pissed and frustrated enough to ignore my usual not saying anything I wouldn't say to my grandparents rule (that said, I probably would swear if I were talking about this to my grandparents... So I guess I'm not breaking the rule...).

Fuck you, drug companies. Just.... Fuck you.

Let me explain.

I don't know the details, but drug companies right now are screwing patients and not making a lot of meds.

This means that Adderall is on back order.

This morning, I took my last dose of my current Adderall prescription. I'm supposed to take two capsules in the morning and one capsule in the afternoon as needed. I won't be taking my afternoon dose today (which sucks 'cause Tuesdays are one of the days I normally DO need it...).

I went to CVS last night, knowing that I only had enough meds for the morning.

"Sorry, it's backordered. We don't have ANY of your dosage."

I'm signed up for the mall trip this evening, so I called the drug store in the mall just now. They have absolutely none as well.

I just called the only other easily accessible pharmacy. They have 12 generic pills (so, 4 days if I take it as prescribed. 6 if I don't take my afternoon dose.) and 66 brand name.

My prescription is for 90 pills. Normally, my insurance is only cool with 68 pills in a vial. Last time I filled this prescription, I wound up with 68 pills. Since I don't take the afternoon dose every day, it's not the end of the world, especially since a lot of weekends I wind up only taking the afternoon dose.

And insurance only covers generic. They cover my brand name anti depressants, but only 'cause the generic hasn't come out yet. I have to call them and beg to cover the brand name this one time 'cause that's all I can get.

And if they won't cover it... Well, let's just say Adderall doesn't come cheap.

Let's imagine a world where I can't take my Adderall, just for a minute.

I will continue to function, yes. My inability to function comes when I don't take the Lexapro (anti depressant), not not taking the Adderall.

When I don't take the Adderall, I function like a 5 year old. That's when I'm not a three year old. Which is still better than a two year old.

With even the smallest bit of stimulation, I may as well be drunk without Adderall. When I say I act like a little kid, I mean a little kid in a candy store with grandparents in Disney World. We're talking wired, psycho, hyperstimulated, the highest energy you can imagine.

I'm also fearless.

This doesn't happen every time I don't take my meds. Normally, I just get more obnoxious, lose a lot of inhibitions, don't recognize limits, and whatever ability I have to recognize social cues goes down the drain.

Until I'm stimulated. Stimulated might just mean chilling out with someone when something strikes me as particularly funny. Something about the laughter pushes me into psycho fun mode.

Last time that happened, I ran up and down the hall of the dorm I was hanging out in asking everyone how they felt about penises. One of the first people I asked gave me a thumbs up. After that it was all, "do you think penises are thumbs up?????"

Apparently most people do, although they tend to add in that it kind of depends on the bearer of the penis as well. I thought that was very fair.

And I hadn't even drunk anything.

Yes, I successfully completed 6 and a half years of school unmedicated. I didn't start taking Adderall till the very end of 7th grade.

But when you're 12 or younger and you occasionally act like a toddler or preschooler when you're seriously wound up, it's not a big deal. Your parents just spend a lot of time debating if they should have you tested for ADD.

When you're coming up on 20 and you're in college and people expect you to have social skills and the ability to behave like an adult at least some of the time and you sort of have that ability, but you also know it can disappear at any time, you're screwed without your meds.

Yes, I have tricks up my sleeve for surviving meds-less. But my tricks are mostly relevant to weekends or when my meds have worn off.

I don't think I've gone to a morning class unmedicated since about 10th grade. I've known in afternoon classes I wasn't medicated because it had worn off, but I HAVE to have my meds for class.

Not because I can't concentrate. As long as there's even a little bit of structure I can concentrate.

And not because I get distracted. At least not exactly.

When I'm functioning normally unmedicated, there are two really really big signals that I'm unmedicated.

My handwriting and my obsessive compulsive tendencies.

Successful people with undiagnosed ADD tend to have some level of OCD or at least OC tendencies (my psychiatrist says it's only a disorder if it interferes with your life... I like to say I have OCT). When you have a disorder that often makes you disorganized, you probably have some coping mechanisms that look like OCD.

And plenty of people with diagnosed ADD have things like that too. My brother and I (or is it me?) being wonderful examples.

I like things to be aesthetic and I like formats. All of my notes for any given class are always in the same format. If I type my notes, I'll make a template in my word processor so it's all set up for me every class. When that gets messed up, I will sit and fix it. Until it's fixed.

When I get a hand out in class, I write my name and the date at the top of the page. I always do this in pencil. I prefer the look of pen, but you can't do what I do in pen. If it doesn't look the way I want, I will erase it and write it again. And again. And again. And again. Until it looks how I want. By now the teacher has moved on to whatever we're actually doing and I've missed it.

I'm getting better about doing this medicated (I used to always do it. Now I focus really hard on not doing it). But medless is a whole different story.

And then there's my handwriting. Normally, I have pretty decent hand writing. It's usually legible, neat, sometimes even pretty. This is good since I like things to be aesthetic.

Without my meds, it's a huge struggle. I have trouble actually physically writing by hand, and once the letters are on the page they are atrocious. It looks like a little kid who's just learning how to write wrote them.

And remember the OCT, so the need for everything to be aesthetic is worse and the ability to actually make it aesthetic is virtually non existant.

It can be all but pointless for me to go to class unmedicated because I can't follow the class, not because I can't concentrate but because my desire for perfect notes gets in the way of actually taking notes.

I imagine I'm not the only one who has serious trouble actually functioning in adult life without meds. Some people have trouble functioning in social settings too, not just work or academic. When people can overlook how obnoxious I can be and forgive my inability to read social cues, I'm fine socially, although people sometimes think I'm drunk.

But until drug companies get their act together, I am FUCKED. And this is just brain shit. From what I understand, drug companies are also not making things like cancer meds. My brothers both have Lyme and they wound up having to change antibiotics when they only had like a week left on their regimin because they couldn't get the one they were taking.

So, to drug companies I say this:

I'm so glad that your money and proving America can't function without you is more important to you than letting Americans like me actually function. Yes, we need you. Yes, when all the companies get together like right now you have a monopoly (which is illegal. I think. It's called the anti trust laws. It means a bunch of companies can't get together and have a virtual monopoly.). Yes, you have a shitton of power. THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD USE IT.

Have some common decency. Realize that there are college kids out there who are facing the very real possibility of the last two weeks of classes WITHOUT MEDS and then finals WITHOUT MEDS. Realize that there are people with life threatening conditions who will get better if you MAKE THEIR DRUG. If they die, IT'S ON YOU. If I get absolutely nothing out of my classes for the next two weeks and fail my finals, IT'S ALSO ON YOU.

Make the fucking meds. It's not that hard. Yes, I'm being selfish. Yes, I'm blaming everything on you. Yes, I'm ignoring the other shit in my life that could make me fail my classes. But you know what? If I'd had a perfect semester and rest of the semester looked golden, I'd STILL suddenly be terrified that I wouldn't be able to pass without my meds.

The last time I went to school unmedicated regularly was in 7th grade. You know what my teachers always said about me in middle school? "Wendy is really great when she puts in the effort, but she has trouble completing and turning in her homework and staying on task in class." I don't remember EVER finishing a class in elementary or middle school and NOT having make up work at the end of the year. Until I went on Adderall.

Between the ADD diagnosis and the depression diagnosis, my academic problems WENT AWAY. What does that tell you?

It says I need Adderall to be able to be successful in school. When I'm not having other issues and am on Adderall, LIFE IS PEACHY.

So yeah, I've been having other issues lately. But you know what that means we SHOULDN'T do??? TAKE ME OFF THE FUCKING ADDERALL.

Oh yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I count on my Adderall. I have ever since I started taking it. Now, it's my foundation when I start dealing with other shit. If you take it away, EVERYTHING ELSE I'M TRYING TO DEAL WITH WILL FALL OVER.

Give me my fucking Adderall. Make the shit. Stop being stupid.

In short, FUCK YOU DRUG COMPANIES.

UPDATE 12/2/11: I lucked out in that we had changed my dosage pretty soon after I'd filled a new prescription, so I had some of my old dosage lying around, so I managed to not be unmedicated (and actually I hadn't noticed a change when I first started the new dosage... Going back to the old one and I did notice, so it kind of could have been a good thing. Ish.) for the last few days, but I got frustrated yesterday with not being able to work out how to deal with the insurance and started calling pharmacies that weren't within walking distance or I didn't know where they were. And I found a Rite Aid that had it (and they had enough and they had generic. Wheeeee!!!)!!!!!!! So I called my mother's wonderful wonderful friend who lives really close to my school and told her that I needed to go to this pharmacy but I had no clue where it was or how to get there or if it was even in walking distance and could she pretty please drive me? And she was happy to.

So at least for this month, I have meds.

'Course, I still have a problem with insurance in that they don't like to cover more than 68 pills per vial (isn't that a really random number?) and my prescription is for 90 (two in the morning, one at noonish for 30 days...), so I can only get 22 days worth (but that's assuming I take the full three every day. I tend to only take the noon dose on weekends and only the morning dose on Mondays and Fridays... Which is 15 pills per week rather than 21. Which means one vial can last more than a month... Actually, assuming you only have 4 Saturdays and 4 Sundays in a month, 68 pills actually lets me take the morning dose every day and the noon dose every week day.... But since I don't do that, it can last me longer...). Anyway, I can have my doctor arrange something with the insurance so I can get my full script, but I haven't dealt with that yet.... Although I wish I had because I would like as much time as possible between now and the next time I have to go crazy trying to find the stupid things.....

But I still am happy 'cause I have my meds again. Yay!

Pemberley Shoes

The American Duchess has a new shoe and I LOVE them. I'd totally wear them for modern... Unfortunately, I don't do Regency and practically everyone in my life has this funny belief that I don't need anymore shoes, so no way can I convince my mother that I should get these...

Fortunately, Lauren, of the American Duchess, is doing a giveaway. So I'm posting about these fantastic shoes in hopes of winning them :)

About the Prize:
The "Pemberley" Regency shoes are closely based on extant footwear from the 1790s through 1810. The smooth, dyable, hand-sewn leather upper is designed to be lovely enough formal occasions, and durable enough for walking in the countryside. Particular attention was paid to the point of the toe, as well as the other hallmarks of Regency historical footwear, with the main goals being both historical accuracy and all-day comfort.

A Letter to Bryn Mawr about their spam filter

Dear Bryn Mawr,

I think it's great you have such a strict spam filter. I know the Nigerian princes are disappointed that they can't get in touch with me, but I get too much email as it is and I don't need all the warnings about my inbox being full.

That said, it'd probably be best if the emails from the Student Health Division about enrolling in the mandatory health insurance DIDN'T get stopped by the filter. When those get stopped, it means I don't see them for a week... Yes, I saw it well before the deadline, but it was still worrying.

It was also worrying because the text in the email was a little weird (lots of ? in random places, as though it had been fed through a bad translator...) and it didn't come from a Bryn Mawr email address.

Let's just say I was very careful to go to the Bryn Mawr Health Center page by typing in my browser, not the link in the email....

I get that we have had some problems with email scams and things and I could tell when you strengthened the spam filter. But emails from school should get through the filter....

Sincerely,
Wendy

Pretty 18th Century Shoes

So this blog I read, the American Duchess, also has a small shop. And gets these FANTASTIC shoes. So, reenactors, check it out!

The Devonshires are a leather 18th century shoe based on museum examples from the 1760s through 1780s. They're made of top-grade dyable leather, with a beautiful, smooth Italian leather sole for dancing, and are hard-wearing, water- and mud-proof, for even the toughest of outdoor re-enactments.

Pre-Order the Devonshires through August 10, and get the special $100 price. We're only making 200 of these shoes, so don't miss the chance to own one of only a couple hundred pair on the planet! Visit www.american-duchess.com to order.

Aaaand keep your eyes peeled. I got the splint taken out of my mouth yesterday and there'll be a 4 weeks out from surgery post coming soon. It'll involve chewing (yay!!!!!!).

All Liquid Diets

So my surgery was 12 days ago. Post op tomorrow morning. Swelling's almost entirely gone. There's a splint on the roof of my mouth that's driving me CRAZY. Starting a few days after I got home from the hospital it started scraping up my tongue something fierce. It was awful. Now it's just a way of reminding me that it'll be another two weeks before I can start cheating on my all liquid diet the way I want to.

See, this this is like a retainer in the sense that it's a hunk of plastic molded to fit my teeth and palate. It covers the roof of my mouth and then wraps around my teeth and hooks onto my braces. I have no idea exactly how it's staying in because, of course, I was unconscious when they put it in, but I know I can't remove it. And since when I say wrapping I mean it covers my teeth, eating is a no go. I mean, I'm not supposed to anyway, but if I tried it wouldn't work.

And I have elastics hooking my upper and lower braces together. Unfortunately, this means my all liquid thing does not include ice cream. Or mashed potatoes, which is what I lived on last time I was on an all liquid diet....

I'm praying that tomorrow my lovely surgeon will tell me that I can stop wearing the elastics and can start using straws again. That will make my life 84423897483275x easier. Exactly that many times easier, in fact. Really.

Anyhoo, so here's my thing on this all liquid crap:

Ensure leaves an icky residue in your mouth. When you have elastics 24/7, that means your mouth is seriously gross. This is why I've told my parents I will not be drinking the Ensure, no matter how much ice cream it is blended with, until I've been given leave to remove my elastics more often. It's just too gross.

Also, my mother has been at knitting camp for the last week. That's basically a conference for knitters. Anyway, apparently one of the camper's kids had this same surgery and whatever the camper made for the family she through in the blender for the kid. Which is specifically what I told my mother years ago I would refuse to do right now.

If you ask me, that is the most inconsiderate thing you can do for someone who is recovering from surgery (well, aside from saying things about their swelling...).

Here's the thing: I am 19 years old. It is summer vacation. When you think of college freshmen on summer vacation, you think of all kinds of excitement and fun things. But instead, I am recuperating. I am going to bed early. I am taking lots of naps. I am not driving. In other words, I am missing out on an awful lot right now. Seriously, you know where I was last Thursday night while practically EVERYONE I KNOW (including my boyfriend and THIRTEEN YEAR OLD BROTHER) was at the Harry Potter midnight showing? Asleep. I didn't get to go. I cannot tell you how crappy that was.

I'm missing out on so much crap and I can't eat ANYTHING I want. And people want me to eat whatever they're eating, in mush form. A) that's disgusting. B) that's not fair. If I'm missing out on everything else in the world, it's not fair to ask me to eat something that doesn't actually resemble anything edible.

That said, I've lost 14lbs so far. 'Course, my diet may change dramatically tomorrow since stopping wearing the elastics will greatly alter what I'm willing/able to consume.

Who knew you could lose weight on Pepsi and egg drop soup?

PS It's totally possible to slurp whipped cream off the top of a milkshake.

Almost there....

I keep coming up with great post ideas. But almost always while I'm out driving around. And then I forget when I get home.

For now we'll just leave it at how today is Tuesday. My surgery is Friday.

My grandma sent me a stuffed crocodile, who I've named Monster. He's adorable. She also sent a really cute card. And my mother avoided all my questions, so I think she's making me a blanket to bring with me on Friday (well, when I asked the first time if she was going to, before she started/bought the fabric, she was all "do you want me to?").

I'll be in the hospital Friday and Saturday nights, possibly Sunday night as well.

Peeps who wanna come see me/send me more things like Monster should talk to my parents to find out where/when.

Wish me luck!!

PS At my pre-op last week I discovered there are about 8 different unpronounceable ways for your nose to bleed... I had to sign all the consent forms and apparently my nose might bleed.

And apparently there are going to be incisions in my mouth, which means no straws. Which sucks 'cause it's going to be an all liquid diet for quite some time. That's seriously not fair....

Two months from today

This is another post about teeth and surgery. I'm going to be explaining exactly what my surgeon will do, so if you're squeamish, skip it.

I can't sleep, which means I still think it's Sunday, May 8th (Happy Mother's Day!). So I'm thinking about what I'm going to be doing two months from today, on July 8th.

I'm going to be going to the hospital where my wonderful surgeon is going to make my orthodontist like my teeth for the first time in my life.

You know what I said when I met my surgeon the first time? I think I was in middle school and the surgeon asked me if I knew why I was there. I very cleverly told him, "Dr. H doesn't like my teeth."

I previously explained that I have an under bite where basically the space my lower teeth wrap around is bigger than my upper teeth (like, my teeth are in concentric bite shaped circles...). Like I said, originally it wasn't so obvious from the front, it was more like my lower jaw was just wider, but with my braces they pulled my lower teeth forward, so it's under bite all the way around.

So my surgery is in two months.

I've gone back and forth about a gajillion times whether I want to be wired shut for six weeks or have plates and screws. There's a tiny risk of nerve damage with the latter, and no risk of nerve damage for the former. With the latter, I'll know as soon as I wake up from the anesthesia whether the surgery was successful. With the former, I won't know till they unwire me.

But that's not what I'm using to make this decision.

The last time I saw the surgeon, he reminded me and my parents of our choices. As we were leaving the hospital, we were discussing it. My parents both agreed that they wouldn't be able to deal with being wired shut for six weeks, they'd feel claustrophobic in their own heads.

Suddenly, two thoughts came to my mind.

Thought #1: I love to ski. I haven't actually skied since 8th grade because I got busy in high school, but I was really good in middle school. At one point in maybe 6th grade, I decided to try snow boarding.

It completely freaked me out. I had both feet attached to the same thing. I couldn't handle it.

In the car, I suddenly realized it might be like that, only my head instead of my feet. My head's a lot more important than my feet. It'd be talking instead of walking that I wouldn't be able to do properly. Not a pleasant thought.

Thought #2: At some point when I was little, I would imagine anywhere between ages 5 and 8, my father read The Three Musketeers and The Man in the Iron Mask to us. After this, we rented the movies. I don't remember anything about The Three Musketeers movie, which makes me think I might be imagining having rented it, but I do remember some scenes from The Man in the Iron Mask very very vividly.

Mainly, I remember the last scene. The king, who turned out to actually be the younger twin and therefore not the legitimate king, has been put in the iron mask he previously made his brother wear because he is evil and knew his brother had the more legitimate claim and was afraid someone would find out. You just see him thrashing around this room that he's clearly locked into. There's been this decree that no one is to speak to him or be spoken to by him or anything for the rest of his life and he gets his food through a little cat flap on the door and he has this iron thing on his head. It looks like a knight's helmet.

Except he can't take it off. He's completely trapped inside it and when you throw in that he's trapped in this room completely alone until he dies with no human contact whatsoever, you have to imagine that he's going to wind up trapped inside his head and going crazy.

I don't know why I watched this movie when I was little. My parents were pretty good about making sure the things we watched were age appropriate, and to be fair, it's not like this movie ever gave me nightmares.

But I think that's because it never occurred to me that there could be any kind of equivalent in my own life.

Driving out of that parking garage listening to my parents talk about being claustrophobic in their own heads, I realized I would feel like I was reenacting that last scene for the whole 6 weeks.

Hell no, I thought to myself. I'm getting plates and screws.

So, with the method decided on, the next step is the actually surgery.

This is the part you don't want to read if you're squeamish about surgery.

Basically, the goal is to widen my upper jaw and bring my lower jaw back and to the side slightly (because as if my face isn't screwed up enough, it's crooked... I'm kidding. From the outside, my face is fine. Although I can tell my lower jaw is crooked, and I can see how it's made the rest of my face slightly crooked. Moving on.).

To do this, they're basically going to slit my upper palette and put in a permanent palette expander. BTW no matter what I had decided about plates and screws or wires, I would have wound up with plates and screws on the top.

Then they're going to cut into my lower jaw. I'm not exactly sure where. I know one of the cuts is going to go through the very back lower right of my mouth because that's where the wisdom tooth they had to take out for the surgery was. Other than that, I just know they're gonna cut into my bones and pull my jaw back and to the side.

Then they put a bunch of metal in and screw it all together.

And voilá. Perfect teeth.

Then I spend two nights or so in the hospital. Which honestly is making me somewhat nervous.

I've never spent a single night in the hospital. When I got my wisdom teeth out is the first time I've gone to a hospital for something more than a consult or getting blood work done, unless you count when I was born, which I don't.

And of course, I'm 19 which means I'm not a kid. Maybe it sounds childish, but I'm praying they'll let me have my parents there when they knock me out and wake me up. I mean, they're doing stuff with my mouth and teeth and jaw. Considering my extreme lack of hospital experience, I think I deserve my parents there....

PS I'm just gonna point out that I have an older sister who broke her leg at 18 months, and two brothers who have each gotten stitches and various other bloody things that got taken care of in the emergency room.

They all had parents around for their hospital treatment!! Well, except for the times when they were staying with friends or on biking trips or whatever. But they still had someone with them for all this stuff....

Window shopping online is depressing

I've done this both with shoes and vacation spots. It's all depressing.

See, first I went and added about a million shoes to my Zappos wishlist. A lot of fantastically cute shoes that I can totally see Ginger Rogers dancing in. Or maybe Rose Marie wearing in the Dick Van Dyke Show. Seriously, has anyone ever noticed how fabulous her shoes are?? Mary Tyler Moore is always just in pumps. Rose Marie has fantastic shoes.

Anyway. So then I was all, let's plan a dream vacation on Expedia! But I couldn't make the website do what I wanted. I kept thinking it was actually gonna book me and I didn't really want that.

But just now I was reading [The Customer Is] Not Always Right and there's a lot of posts there from people in New Zealand, and a lot of time they talk about the Maori people. Being the occasionally naive American (I always forget that Australia and New Zealand were populated before the Brits started sending convicts there....), I was intrigued (hey, that shows my naivete is only occasional. I admit that I don't know everything and I try to learn. See? Really naive Americans either don't realize there's anything beyond our borders or think everything outside our borders is actually within our borders....). Wanting to know more about the Maori, I went to my favorite "won't teach you anything but will give you a little context/background for it" source: Wikipedia.

Wikipedia explained that the Maori were Polynesians who went to a different part of the South Pacific. I'm not sure if they left the Hawaii area or got separated from the ones who wound up in Hawaii. Either way, besides a lot of evolution, their culture is closest to Hawaiian/Polynesian type cultures.

Well, this reminded me of the Polynesian Resort in Disney World, which is where we used to stay. When I was little, my family went to Disney World pretty much every year during Christmas vacation (actually, I have no idea how often it was. I remember a lot of things as being every year that actually were a lot more occasional.... Or like how I remember my "uncle" Scotty [surrogate uncle. Mom's college friend. Practically full time babysitter. At least in my memory.] picking me up from kindergarten every day. My mother tells me it was more like once a week.) and while I'm sure we didn't always stay there, I don't remember staying anywhere else.

Anyway, I've always thought that when I discover some way to fund a trip to Disney World (yeah right), that's where I wanna stay.

So not gonna happen. During the "value season" the cheapest room is $385. And it doesn't look like that even includes continental breakfast, which means 3 meals a day on top of that, plus park admission, plus any kind of nightlife stuff (my parents used to go to the Adventurers Club and occasionally take us... That was awesome...)...

So I'm thinking when I go and take a vacation sans parents, it'll have to be to Vegas. You can stay in The Venetian, which is a far from lousy hotel, for $149. Plus in Vegas there's always the chance of coming out on top...

Although considering all you can do at 19 is scratch tickets, I'm not expecting much right now. But I do have a 21st birthday in a year and a half and it's never too early to start planning....

And no, I don't just wanna stay at the Venetian because that's where Phantom is. Added bonus.

'Course the downside to all this is my 21st birthday is gonna be a Wednesday, probably the first week back to class second semester. And going three hours west (time zone wise) is not really a great idea for a weekend. I mean, if you're gonna mess with your sleep, you might as well be gone long enough for it to make a difference.

Which means my 21st birthday trip (pardon me. 21st birthday DREAM trip.... Well, sort of dream. Is it bad that a part of me would rather Disney than Vegas for my 21st birthday?) won't be able to happen properly till March when I'll have a vacation....

'Course this is assuming I somehow have the means to go to Vegas. Or Orlando. Which honestly is unlikely.

See? This is the problem with online window shopping!!! I wind up thinking things through too much and being like, hey! I could do that! If I weren't in college and had a really awesome job with a really good salary that gave me really long weekends......

So, the moral of the story is: anyone wanna go to Disney World with me and front the cash for an epically fabulous hotel?? Oooh, and we should totally go to a character breakfast. I don't care where it is, they have them in the Polynesian and the Grand Floridian (well, ok, they did 10 years ago. I assume they still do.) and they have character lunches (maybe other meals too... I dunno...) in Cinderella's Castle. Which is where Peter Pan offered to teach me to fly when I was, like, 4. I don't actually remember that. Although I do remember him sitting on the back of a chair.

Sigh. Someday I'll be rich and famous and be able to spend two weeks in a super fantastic room at the Polynesian. Maybe.

That's the goal, anyway.

Alright, Light....

Look, Light.

We've been living together since August. I know for the first few months I didn't notice your noise, but is getting louder really necessary?

I already threatened you. What more can I do?

All you have to do is not drive me crazy for another five days. It shouldn't be that hard.

I'm begging you. You give me such a head ache.

Did you always do that, or did you only start when the boyfriend came to visit in November?

I never noticed until he pointed it out. Did you decide you didn't like having visitors and start yelling at us or something?

Because, if that was true, we had a guest in September. So seriously? What did you have against Dom?

I'm begging you. I'm studying. I like bright lights when they don't DRIVE ME INSANE.

Please just shut up.

You don't bother Karuna, so sing and dance and have your little party up there all you like.

JUST WAIT TILL I LEAVE.

Ok. Thanks.

Hyperbole and a Half

Allie, the girl from Hyperbole and a Half, is writing a book!!!

I'm super dooper crazy excited 'cause she's super doober funny.

When I was home for winter break, I introduced my youngest brother to her blog and we spent, like, three days with me reading old posts outloud to him.

Anyway, if you go check out her most recent post, it's really funny. It's all ways to think of the time between now and fall 2012 that make it seem slightly less far away.

PS I know you're wondering why I put a link to the most recent post when the original link to her blog would do just as well. Well the answer to that is that I've finally mastered the art of hyperlinks and I wanted to show off.

PPS This is making me think I should make a list of all the books, past, present, and future, I want. So keep your eyes open for either a post on it or a new page with a list that maybe I'll update periodically.

Oooh... That sounds like an excellent procrastination tactic. I need to take my 19th century European history exam tomorrow. So yeah. Definitely making a list of books I want.

Like Yoda Talking Am I

Better this will be in a Yoda/Kermit voice.

Like Yoda Talk Day today is. Like Yoda talks this post will be. And at the encouragement of my lovely roommate it is.

Little I have to say, unfortunately.

But never has that before stopped me from speaking. So speak I shall.

Very good movies Star Wars is. Better are the original three, though. Since as long as can I remember those three my parents have had on tape.

When Episode 6 I watch, the blue Jedi-Anakin at the funeral the man who wore the Darth Vader suit is.

Not until I was 16 young Anakin from Episodes 2 and 3 at the funeral did I see.

To the original movies one downside there is: Ewan McGregor. A gorgeous man he is. Or maybe better it is. Practically monks are Jedis, so maybe a waste is Ewan McGregor.

But in Moulin Rouge wonderful is he!!!! Sings so wonderfully he does!

Ok.

Pushing this a little too far, maybe I am.

Write like this on my finals I hope I do not.

May the Fourth be with you!

Procrastination

(sung to the tune of "Celebration." With apologies to Kool & the Gang.)

Yahoo! This is your procrastination
Yahoo! This is your procrastination

Procrastinate good times, come on! (Let's procrastinate)
Procrastinate good times, come on! (Let's procrastinate)

There's a party goin' on right here
Procrastination to last throughout the year
Don't bring your homework! Forget your papers too
We gonna procrastinate and party with you

Come on now

Procrastination
Let's all procrastinate and have a good time
Procrastination
We gonna procrastinate and have a good time

It's time to come together
It's up to you, what's your pleasure

Everyone around the world
Come on!

Yahoo! It's a procrastination
Yahoo!

Procrastinate good times, come on!
It's a procrastination
Procrastinate good times, come on!
Let's procrastinate

We're gonna have a good time tonight
Let's procrastinate, it's all right
We're gonna have a good time tonight
Let's procrastinate, it's all right

Baby...

We're gonna have a good time tonight (Procrastination)
Let's procrastinate, it's all right
We're gonna have a good time tonight (Procrastination)
Let's procrastinate, it's all right

Yahoo!
Yahoo!

Procrastinate good times, come on! (Let's procrastinate)
Procrastinate good times, come on!
It's a procrastination!
Procrastinate good times, come on! (Let's procrastinate)

Come on and procrastinate, good times, tonight (Procrastinate good times, come on!)
'Cause everything's gonna be all right
Let's procrastinate (Procrastinate good times, come on)
(Let's procrastinate)...

Did I mention that finals start tomorrow?

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad

Twenty three years ago today, my mother walked down the aisle to the March of the Siamese Children from Rogers and Hammersteins "The King and I" (my obsession with musicals starts in an earlier generation than myself...).

Obviously, I wasn't there, so I can't tell you much about the wedding, but I do know that, thanks to a problem with the flower girl's flowers, there was a delay in starting the procession so my mom wound up coming in when the music gets all big and exciting for the Crown Prince.

And I know my aunt say Erica Levine by Bob Blue.

My parents met in a kind of funny way. They met on a play flying from Newark to Boston. They were sitting on either side of the aisle and my mother pointed out that one of my father's socks was inside out (And I will now point out that my father constantly wears socks inside out. It drives me crazy).

They got to chatting and discovered that they had some mutual friends and apparently had been invited to the same wedding (Dad went. Mom didn't).

And when they got back to Boston, Daddy drove Mom home (seriously, Mom? You're not supposed to let strangers drive you home... Just saying... I mean, I only let Dad drive me home from the airport 'cause he's, you know, my father....).

And a couple years later, on May 1st, 1988, they got married.

They had a daughter in January 1990 and then an even more fantastic daughter in January 1992 (she wound up going to Bryn Mawr College. She's super dooper crazy cool. Just saying). Then two sons a couple years later.

And now every time they drive past the Newark Airport, Mom plays Erica Levine.

If I take the train to get home, I always text "When Erica Levine was 7 and a half..." to my mother a little while before I get to Penn Station. Amtrak trains make a stop at the Newark Airport.

So in honor of my parents, visit their blogs: Colleen Stitches in Time and Abraham Fisher's blog.

And while you're at it, listen to Erica Levine. I don't really like this recording (plus it's by Bob Blue, not Frankie Armstrong. Frankie Armstrong just recorded it later.), but apparently it's all that exists online.

This is the girl who has never seen a show on Broadway

If you have read more than, like, three of my posts, you know that I'm really into Broadway/West End shows. To quote my wonderful customs people (kind of like orientation leaders... Bryn Mawr is cooler than other schools so we call them customs people because they teach us the customs... At least, I think that's why we call them that... They have nothing to do with bringing things in and out of the country or passports, and that's the only other definition of "customs" I can think of, so I think I'm right...), I am a "Broadway aficionado."

So here's something interesting.

I've never seen a show on Broadway.

Actually, I've never even BEEN to New York. I've driven through. I've taken the train through. I've even hung out in Penn Station for half an hour waiting for the next train.

But until a year and a half ago, I'd never even SPOKEN in New York City. My dad had a quiet rule for driving through the city when I was little. I think the first time I broke this rule (unless you count the time one of my brothers and I were really into maps and we thought we were helping Dad navigate...) was when Dad and I went to visit Bryn Mawr the second time, in October 2009. It was just the two of us in the car and there wasn't any traffic, so Daddy didn't mind me talking.

I've seen plenty of shows. I've seen six shows in Boston: Peter Pan (check out this post to hear about it), the Boyfriend, Rent, Wicked, Rent (again), and A Chorus Line. Plus lots of Gilbert and Sullivan in some college theater (I think? I don't know exactly...) my grandparents used to take us to all the time. And I saw Les Miserablés at the North Shore Music Theater. And bunch of amateur, community theater, and school shows.

And I've seen things in London. The Woman in White, Mary Poppins (I didn't know it at the time, but I actually saw the original cast. Which is very exciting for me...), Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Wicked, and Phantom of the Opera (same post as Peter Pan above...).

That's a grand total of 11 professional performances (although only 9 shows) and plenty of nearly professional performances (North Shore is pretty close to being professional, I think. As was the Gilbert and Sullivan stuff.).

And I'm going to see West Side Story in Boston this summer.

But I've never seen anything in New York. Me. The girl who could perform nearly all of these shows by herself. I don't think I could do Mary Poppins or Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and I might lose some lyrics in A Chorus Line, and I don't think I've been able to do Peter Pan in years (Although I could definitely still get the gist of most of the songs. I'll just swap verses and things...), but the rest of them?

I could perform all of them pretty much start to finish. And that includes switching between characters when multiple characters sing different parts simultaneously. Like, the end of Phantom when Christine, Raoul, and the Phantom are all singing together? I know all of Christine's and the Phantom's and most of Raoul's. And know all the best places to swap between them for the best effect.

So. My goal for college, besides the surviving and graduating thing, is to spend a night in New York and see something on Broadway. Preferably something I'm madly in love with. And it'd rock if any of my favorite actors are performing. Although I realize that the chances of seeing Richard Harris AND Julie Andrews in Camelot are less than nil.

It can't be that hard, can it? I mean, any time I go back and forth to school on the ground, whether train or car, I have to go through NYC. Surely at some point I can arrange it...

*Cough cough* *This is my hint to my parents that sometime we should take an extra day or two when you're driving me here/home and we should break the drive into two days and spend the extra evening in NYC. Just saying.*

*Wait. Is it too late to arrange that for the drive home in a week and a half? I mean, we were debating between Daddy coming down on Tuesday or Wednesday anyway... What's to stop us getting home Thursday??*

Ok. My oh so subtle suggestion to my parents is done now.

Town Meeting Back Home

I'm not gonna get into the issues, but I think Town Meeting back home as been funny this week....

I wanted to listen to TM online on my high school's radio station, but I can't get it to load. So I've been skyping either my sister (who had break over Passover. Plus, her school is close enough to home that she can go home for it...) or my father so I can hear what's happening.

So I've also been getting the commentary from various family members on Skype (using the IM feature... They have their sound off, so it's not like I can just talk to them...).

But I've also been using my status for commentary.

Which has been getting lots and lots of comments and debates and stuff. Last night, one of my statuses wound up with almost 90 comments (87 I think...).

Anyhoo. I didn't have any other ideas to say, so I'm telling you all about TM.....

Dining Hall Pesach

I believe I have just discovered the thing that will get me through four years of dining hall Passovers kosher and not starving.

Matzah with cream cheese and grape jelly.

I used light cream cheese 'cause that's what was more convenient/what I normally use. I imagine it'd be just as good with regular, but light is smoother and stuff (or at least the stuff BMC dining services gets is...) so it might be different. Who knows.

Anywho. IT IS SPECTACULAR.

Just be careful 'cause the jelly likes to slide off, which gets kinda messy.

It is so spectacular, in fact, that your previous craving for waffles, despite not actually like waffles, will dissipate.

Which is a really good thing since, unlike, say, rice, there is no way to explain waffles away as kosher.

The previously mild desire for a jelly donut might not go away though. It might, in fact, grow. Which is kind of unfortunate.

I'm making a list of everything I'm going to eat next week. It's getting very long, very fast. First I just have to decide what I'm going to eat as my first bready thing. Burrito? A roll from Bertuccis? Chocolate cake? (Wait. Not sure where I can find a proper chocolate cake to end Pesach with, since my usual epic chocolate cake places are all at home...) A burger?

If you have any suggestions for what I should eat come Tuesday night, leave me a comment.

Leave me a comment if you have ANY thoughts, actually.

People have found me on google!!!

I'm really excited. People have found me on google. Terms that apparently will lead you to me:

"head gear" braces
"my head gear" braces site:blogspot.com
braces headgear
headgear underbite
seventh amendment funny
wendy my take on the world

And I have to say, I am very impressed by people's ability to find me. I just did a quick search. I'm only on the first page of google for the second one and the last two. The other ones I clicked through a couple pages and couldn't even find me....

But yay!!

I'm very excited to know that I am being found....

PS I'm really curious if people I don't know are reading this... Please comment if you read this and you don't know me personally!!

UPDATE: It occurs to me maybe I could mention something else super exciting. People outside the US have also been reading. Ok, so my global readership isn't much but I do have 8 page views each from Canada and Germany, 3 from the UK, and 1 each from Costa Rica, Iran, Italy, the Netherlands, and Singapore. Seeing as how I don't know anyone who lives in any of those places, although I do know people who know people who live in some of them, this makes me super happy.

I'm guessing the Costa Rica is my lovely bestest friend on her vacation. And the Canada ones are probably mostly sent to me from links my mother has posted on knitting things. But the other ones I don't think I can identify...

Which is exciting for me.

UPDATE AGAIN: In the last 24 hours, two people have found me using google with braces headgear as the search term. I'm trying it now. I'm on page 15 of google and haven't found myself. How are you finding me?? I'm really very impressed.... And kind of guessing that two people read this post and decided to try a few of the searches... If you did this, how far did you have to click through google to find it?

Some background on my teeth

If things like teeth, braces, or whatever freak you out, skip this post.

Basically, my orthodontist (who is wonderful and fabulous) doesn't like my teeth. Since I'm going to have jaw surgery this summer and expect this topic to come up, here's the general background of those little white things in my mouth.

I have a weird under bite. Normally, when you say "under bite" people picture lower teeth that are in front of the upper teeth in the front. Although that is what my teeth look like right now, the orthodontist actually did that. Before the various metal contraptions that have been put in my mouth over the years, my upper front teeth were actually in front of the lower ones. The problem with my mouth is that my lower jaw is basically wider (not to mention off center) than my upper jaw.

So if you look at the sides of my mouth, all my life my lower teeth have been on the outsides of my upper teeth.

I had a series of retainers starting somewhere between 1st and 3rd grade, although I honestly don't remember when I started. These fixed things like the fact that one of my upper front baby teeth decided it liked me too much and wouldn't fall out, even when the grown up tooth had grown in behind it (for a little while, I literally had two teeth there...). Eventually, the dentist yanked it out and a few years later the orthodontist pushed it forward with a bright pink and purple splotchy retainer (is it bad I remember what colors I chose for it? The case was pink and purple marble colored...).

I don't remember what I had in 4th grade, although I'm sure I had something, but in 5th grade the real stuff started.

First they put in a metal band around the inside of my lower teeth to make sure nothing moved while they futzed with my upper teeth.

A few months later they gave me a palate expander which also had little rings on the front. The goal at this point was to beat my growth. Dr. H wanted to force my growth in a direction that wouldn't require surgery.

To do that, he gave me head gear. Not normal head gear, though. Reverse head gear.

My head gear had two lavender plates connected by a metal bar. One plate fit over my chin, the other on my forehead. The bar went down the center of my face. In front of my mouth was a cross bar. The cross bar was connect to those rings on my palate expander with elastics.

I think I had to wear this 12 hours a day for something like 6 months, maybe it was a year. I don't remember.

What I do remember, and I'm sure my whole 6th grade class remembers, is that if I slept in it, I'd wake up with it twisted sideways. So I had to wear it while I was awake.

I wore that stupid contraption to school all year.... Luckily it looked like a medieval torture device, so I mostly I just got sympathy.

I have a very high palate, so I never learned to talk properly with my palate expander. For 2 years, I never said one hard G properly. I can't describe the sound I made instead, but eventually Dr. H took pity on me. He took my palate expander and that little metal band thing out a couple of weeks early. There was no metal in my mouth at my Bat Mitzvah.

A week or two later, though, I got good old fashioned rail road track braces. That was the end of January in 7th grade.

Those braces were just on the top. For three years, that's all I had. They scooted upper teeth around and ignored the bottom.

Then in 10th grade, on the Friday of I think the second weekend of the musical (I don't *think* it was opening night...) they put in bottom braces too.

For another 2 years, they pushed things around but honestly didn't move much. Mostly, they just changed the elastics every month.

Sometime in January or so my senior year, they gave me elastics. This is when I started getting really really frustrated with my teeth. These elastics pulled my lower teeth forward. By March of 12th grade, I had a good old fashioned under bite.

Now I'm going to back track a little. Sometime in high school, the orthodontist decided we failed at beating my growth. My options were either surgery or lots of junk when I'm 40 because my teeth don't hit each other properly. We opted for surgery.

Between a lot of non teeth related things (like submitting things to insurance and stuff), my surgery didn't happen in 10th grade, 11th grade, or 12 grade.

One day in December 2009 (so 12th grade), I went to the orthodontist. I asked if there was any chance of not having braces at my senior prom.

Dr. H said I'd still have them.

At this point, I just broke down. I was convinced that I would have braces for the rest of my life. My children would get their braces off before me and I would probably be buried still wearing braces.

FINALLY the next June, after I had graduated and everything (so yes, my senior prom pictures have braces and an under bite.... Grrrrr....), we met with the surgeon again (we'd met him sometime when we first decided we'd do the surgery, but never went anywhere with it).

He said we might be able to do the surgery next December (that would be December 2010), depending on what method we decided to do and if my wisdom teeth were in the way of the surgery.

It turned out my lower right wisdom tooth would have to come out and would have to come out at least 6 months before the surgery.

So last December, my surgeon (who is fabulous and I think something of a perfectionist, since he insisted on taking out my tooth himself. Not having his staff do it or something, but doing it himself...) took out the tooth.

Rewinding back to August, my orthodontist told me that if we weren't going to be doing the surgery until next summer, we could take the braces off for the year.

A week before I left for college, they took my braces off. After 5 1/5 years of braces and 12 years of having some metal in my mouth with month long breaks between appliances, my mouth was utterly empty.

Of course, I have to have the braces on for the surgery (they need hooks on my teeth or something...), so I'm getting them put back on when I get home from school in May...

At some point, I'll explain exactly what it is that they'll be doing to me come my surgery date (beginning of July), but for now I'll just say that on that day I will stop having an under bite of any kind and through July and a good chunk of August I think I'll be eating lots of things I don't have to chew...

Revising Essays Should Not Be Allowed

I have an essay revision due in about 12 hours. I don't like revising so I've been putting it off.

I HATE REVISING.

Cat Calling

The main street near Bryn Mawr is cat calling central. The only other time I've had so many honks, yells, and whoops from passing cars is that night when we went clubbing in Spain.

Now, it's sometimes kind of flattering, but also incredibly awkward. And it's usually not really even flattering. More demeaning, degrading, de-anything you want to call it. Anyway, what are you supposed to do when someone yells out of a car at you? I normally just walk away.

I've had two times when that really wasn't an option. The first time wasn't really cat calling. There were a couple of guys standing on the side walk. After I passed them, they offered to walk with me. How kind, you might think. Let's just say it didn't feel "kind" per se. I tried to ignore it, they repeated the offer louder. I said no thank you and practically ran.

The second time was this afternoon. I wasn't even ON Lancaster at the time but a side street, about 50 yards from Lancaster. Maybe less. I dunno. I can't judge distance.

Anyway, there I was, walking back towards school and this guy walks past with two girls. I was on the sidewalk, which is kind of on top of a hill next to the road and they were on the street, so they were probably 10 feet from me and below me.

First the guy yells "hey" at me. I try to ignore it and speed up, but I made the mistake of glancing slightly to the side and back 'cause I wasn't sure he actually was talking to me. He definitely was. He was looking straight at me (which by now means over his shoulder since, of course, I had sped up...).

Then I hear the words "cutey with the booty."

I speed up a LOT and practically run away.

I can't decide what level of degrading/demeaning flattery this qualifies as. Normally I don't get particular assets appreciated by random people on the street, but I also don't particularly desire to have such appreciations.

Besides, couldn't he have come up with something a little more original?

And am I the only one who thinks it's weird to use a word like "cutey" in a practice like cat calling that makes me feel like a piece of meat? I mean, meat isn't the cutest thing in the world.... Cat calling makes me feel like the cat caller isn't particularly interested in the cuteness level of the cat callee........

Ok. I'm done with my rant.

Just got a great email

It got blocked by my school's quarantine thing but every now and then I have to go check 'cause sometimes that stops Facebook. Anyway, this is the email I just got...

From:	"Joy. Baby"
To:	undisclosed recipients: ;

Hello Dear
How are you today my new friend, My name is Miss JOY.
Please i need relationship with you as my future partner ,i am a lady with good regard for relationship that is our culture as i got person like you so please put your mind on me,
I have allot to tell you also give you my pictures for you to know whom i am immediately i see your reply in my in-box, Pleases contact me to enable me send more of my pictures for you to know whom i am
Thanks Miss JOY...................


I definitely think I should respond...

UPDATE: 4/7/11 I got another email from Miss JOY, worded exactly the same way, and a slightly different one:

Hello
my name is joy and my contact adderss is:iam a beautiful young girl with full of love and carely, well i saw your profile and i love it, i think we can click together. please i will like you to contact me through this my email adderss thus please contact me with my email adderss i will like to show you my photo and at desame time you will know more about me.once again please contact me true my email adderss.dont send it to the site,the will not allow me to read your reply dou to i dont have any access their.so please email with my address.
thanks for your understanding
joy

An Open Letter to the Weather Gods

Dear Weather Gods,

Remember how nice it was last week? You were spectacular. Especially on Friday. That nice, warm, sunny, beautiful weather was fantastic.

I'd really love to keep going with the springy/summery weather. I love it. It's really great.

I thought you were just being temperamental at first. I mean, it wasn't particularly cold over the weekend, it just wasn't warm. But then this week came.

Yeah, ok, so it was reasonably nice ish most of the day on Tuesday, but it wasn't warm.

But Wednesday? That sucked.

And I just checked the weather for today (or is it tomorrow? It's 2AM Wednesday night/Thursday morning... I don't know what day it is anymore....). Chance of snow in the morning.

Screw you, Weather Gods.

Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a New England girl. I know I had a snow day on April 4th in middle school once.

But I'm not in New England right now.

I can handle snow in March in New England. But this is Pennsylvania for goodness sake. At the end of March.

You gotta make up your mind. Either be spring and I'll pack up my winter gear and mail it to my mother or stay as winter and I'll just be grouchy.

Please stop changing your mind every week.

And if you're trying to decide which way to go, it'd be great if you kept in mind just how much I loooovvvee nice warm springy weather.

Sincerely,
Wendy

UPDATE: There's frost on the ground. I don't think I'm on speaking terms with the Weather Gods right now.

The Phantom's Bad Luck

If you haven't seen the Phantom of the Opera movie and are not interested in spoilers, don't read this. I'm writing this as though you've seen either the movie or the show. I'm just kind of referencing things....

At the end of the Phantom of the Opera movie, the Phantom (Gerard Butler) smashed all his mirrors. He has three mirrors, he smashes them each twice. The final smash shatters the last mirror completely.

Let's give the Phantom 7 years bad luck for each smashing and an extra 7 years for that final smash (especially since there's a bit of a continuity issue with that mirror. He smashes it once and the camera zooms in and you see two spidery places where he hit it.... So let's count the incontinuity and utter shatterage as a third hit on the final mirror.). Two smashing per 3 mirrors plus the extra one. That's 7 sets of bad luck. 7 sets of 7 years of bad luck is 49 years.

Now, the black and white bits of the movie are set in Paris 1919. The colored story (which is technically a flash back. Although I'm pretty sure there's a fancy word I can't remember for when the entire story is set in flash back...) is set in Paris 1870. That's 49 years later.

So... 49 years after the events of the story, the Phantom leaves a rose with Christine's ring on the ribbon tied around it on Christine's grave.

I wonder if the movie people did this on purpose. Like, his bad luck has finally run out and he leaves the ring and rose on her grave?

'Course, if you think about Love Never Dies, this means absolutely nothing since other than loneliness the Phantom has pretty decent luck... But (if I recall correctly... I've only seen it on stage once and it was two years ago....) he also doesn't smash mirrors on stage....

OY FREAKING VEY HULU

Dear Hulu,

The reason you have an ad tailor is so people don't get pissed at seeing the same ad over and over.

So how many times do I have to tell you that ads for Geico or All State are not relevant to me???

Not only am I not interested in buying any type of auto insurance (or motorcycle, RV, or any other insurance for something with wheels...), I also have no intention to buy a Robot Roomba or any type of dog food. Similarly, I have a cell phone and have no current plans for a new phone or ditching AT&T.

I'd really really appreciate not showing ads for things I've already clicked "not relevant" for.

The only ads you ever show me that ARE relevant are the ones for JC Penney. 'Course, I still click not relevant for those because I just want to not see the same ads over and over.

I'm going to tell you that no ads are relevant to me because I don't buy things based on ads. If I see an ad multiple times, it'll just annoy me. So I say nothing's relevant. Please show me new ads.

And seriously, I hate the old guy in the Geico ad. He drives me crazy. While I agree the music that comes up with the disco ball in the one with the "technical difficulties" is catchy, the line "let's keep rolling" is really not necessary. And the one with the gecko T-shirts and water bottles and things? The guy is freaking clueless.

Clearly, I've seen the Geico ads too much. Don't even get me started on the "did the little piggy cry whee whee whee all the way home?" ("wheeeeeeeeeeeee! wheeee wheeeee wheeeee wheeeeeeeeeee!") one. That may be the most annoying ad I have EVER seen.

And the only plus side to the All State ads is that the guy who plays Mayhem is the guy who played Cassedy on the first season of Law and Order SVU. And I loved that guy. I pity his career, but he's kind of gorgeous.

Anyway, my point is STOP SHOWING THE SAME ADS OVER AND OVER. I clicked not relevant 'cause a) they're not relevant and b) I want new ads!!!!!

Thank you.

Sincerely,
Wendy

PS The lady in I forget which dog food (Purina diet weight loss something or other maybe?) ad whose dog's name is Winky (or something like that) drives me crazy. She's an idiot. She goes on and on about how convenient prepackaged food is, since you don't have to measure anything or whatever. Dude. That's the point of prepackaged food. Get over it. That has nothing to do with Purina. That has to do with food companies (human and pet, in fact...) all over the world who understand how lazy people are.

Has Arizona read the Fourteenth Amendment?

It was pointed out to me in the comments on my last post that the amendment I was looking for is the Fourteenth Amendment, ratified July 9, 1868 (once again, this is coming out of my copy of Great Documents of American History):

"Section 1. All persons born or naturalized in the United States and Subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside. No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws."

There it is, spelled out in black and white. You can't get it any clearer.

I was right.

The Constitution says if you are born here, you are a citizen. No ifs, ands, or buts. That's it.

Not only that, but read the rest. Do you see the number of times "any person" pops up? "Nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law," know what that means?

Maybe I'm misinterpreting that, but to me that means that until they can prove someone is here illegally, they are subject to the same protections as everyone else. Which is really just common sense if you think about it, I mean, what if they really ARE here legally and you assume they're not? You go treated them all suspiciously and try to get them deported and then they wave a passport or citizenship papers in your face.

Considering we're the land of the free and practically everyone was originally an immigrant (once again, lemme point out that the Native Americans should have had the right to have us all deported), we have a really lousy view on immigrants now.

My point is, not only is this bill that Arizona just didn't pass unconstitutional, so is what I call the "Rock Paper Scissors" law (as in, "if a cop asks for 'papers' and I say, 'scissors,' do I win?"). People do not have to hand over their papers without a warrant (btw that one's not just in the Constitution, that's in the Bill of Rights {Fourth Amendment. "The right of people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures" etc... Also please note it says "persons" not "citizens." This law pertains to not citizens, and not just people here legally. If they meant only legal residents, they'd have said so.}... So you can't even make an argument that the Founding Fathers wouldn't have agreed with this... I disagree with that argument, but I'm sure there are people who don't think anything after the Bill of Rights counts...). I'm pretty sure "due process" is not seeing that someone is hispanic and requesting their papers. Americans are not required to keep their papers on their persons. Americans are not required to hand them over just 'cause a cop asks. A judge has to sign off on it and there has to be probable cause.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE IS NOT PROBABLE CAUSE WHEN THE CRIME IS IMMIGRATION STATUS.

Actually, there is pretty much no CONSTITUTIONAL way for Rock Paper Scissors to be enforced....

The Twenty-Seventh Amendment. Plus some thoughts on citizenship

So I was flipping through my copy of the Constitution trying to find something and discovered something funny.

According to the footnote for the 27th Amendment, "Congress submitted the text of the Twenty Seventh Amendment to the States as part of the proposed Bill of Rights on September 25, 1789. The Amendment was not ratified together with the first ten Amendments, which became effective on December 15, 1791. The Twenty Seventh Amendment was ratified on May 7, 1992, by the vote of Michigan."

Huh... I'm going to assume that 200 years is the record for the longest time for an amendment to be ratified....

And in case anyone was wondering, the reason I have a copy of the Constitution (to be specific, I have The Declaration of Independence and Other Great Documents of American History, 1785-1865, edited by John Grafton) is that I'm taking an American politics class right now and, as my prof said in her email requesting we all obtain a hard copy of the Constitution, on the first day of class we "took a leaf out of the Republicans' book" and read the Constitution.

And what I was looking for is anything about natural born citizens. I just read an article my aunt posted on Facebook talking about how Arizona didn't pass a bill that, among other things, would stop granting automatic citizenship to the children of illegal immigrants born on US soil. I think it says somewhere in the Constitution that if you're born on US soil you're a citizen, end of story. But I can't find it, so I may be wrong.

However, whether or not I'm wrong, the instant anyone says "anchor babies" will no longer get citizenship, I say everyone who's ancestors were undocumented upon arrival here (so pretty much everyone who's all "my ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War!") should get shipped back to Europe.

Your ancestors were illegal immigrants (and screwed the current inhabitants a lot worse than anyone coming in illegally now... At least no one's being given smallpox now...) and you just decided that the children of illegal immigrants should not be granted citizenship.

I got Rapiscammed

Maybe I better go back to the beginning of this story...

Thanksgiving 2010
You may recall that everyone was all up in arms about the new Rapiscan backscatter thingamobob last November and November 24th, the day before Thanksgiving, aka the biggest travel day of the year, was "opt out day." Like everyone else in the world, I was planning to fly home that day. I had the perfect plan.

Due to my teeth which my orthodontist doesn't like, I have had more X-Rays than I care to count. Actually, I doubt I COULD count them. Between that and the amount of flying I've done in my life (not a small amount, although it is not a particularly impressive amount...), I think I should probably not be exposed to more radiation that necessary. At this point, "necessary" is pretty generous, obviously I do still fly, and on Friday my orthodontist did another X-Ray.

But the backscatter, when functioning properly, is apparently the equivalent of a couple of minutes in flight. Especially now that I'm flying back and forth between Philadelphia and Boston a few times a semester, those couple of minutes may add up. And that's when functioning properly. It's not clear the TSA techs actually know how to work it and know when it's acting up... Which is very worrying...

So. My plan. A) I was very much in agreement with the sentiments of Opt Out Day and although I had zero desire to be felt up by a total stranger, I decided I'd prefer that than to be the one to screw up the boycott. B) I wanted to limit my radiation. That simple. I figured opting out made a lot of sense. I decided the extra radiation might cause some serious badness as opposed to the brief discomfort of a stranger groping me.

Between the delays my mother told me to anticipate thanks to OOD and the fact that the airport would probably be very very busy, I decided it would be good to get there early, so I arranged a very early ride to the airport from my lovely roommate's lovely father. And I do mean very early. My flight was shortly before 9pm. I arrived at security around 5:30. That's early even by my mother's standards.

So, there I am, boarding pass and license in hand, walking toward the line for security when I realize something.

There are approximately 5-10 people in line in front of me and not a single backscatter in sight.

That was really weird because I'd gone through that exact security a month or so before when I went home for fall break and I'd seen backscatters then. But I shrugged it off and moved through the line.

I'm not even kidding, I spent more time taking my belt and shoes off than I did in line...

I figured getting through security a good 3 hours before my flight meant the end of the Rapiscan story.

I was wrong.

The story continued on the way back to school at the end of spring break.

Once again, there was zippo line for security. Seriously, the lady checking tickets and licenses waited for me...

So there I am, unpacking my laptop and taking off my belt (and trying to keep my pants from falling down) and the TSA lady helping people with bins and things starts talking to me and the people behind me.

"Please make sure your pockets are completely empty. No tissues, coins, or anything. Please take off your belts. We are using *ramumblemumble* technology today. Your pockets must be completely empty. Please take off your watches."

I had no idea what the mumble was. I checked if I needed to take my bracelets off, fed my stuff onto the conveyer belt and looked at the lady to tell me where to go.

She ushered me into something that I suddenly realized was the dreaded Rapiscan thing.

"Oh crap." I think to myself. "She mumbled 'Rapiscan technology'! And now I can't even opt out!"

Swearing to myself, I put my hands over my head like they told me.

It was relatively painless and only lasted a few seconds, but I was still totally fuming.

After they let me step out of the machine, they told me to stand on one of those footprint mat things. This TSA guy mumbled something at me. I stared at him.

"Huh?"

He repeated it, barely louder and no more coherently.

I tried to politely ask for another iteration.

He wound up saying it 3 or 4 times. Eventually, I discovered he was telling me to stand on the mat for a few seconds. I dunno why they wanted me on the mat, but I think they tell everyone to stand on it for a few seconds after stepping out because they had the people behind me do it too.

Then this TSA lady comes up to me and tells me she's gonna pat down my hair. In retrospect, I think it was 'cause I had forgotten to take my hair clip out and that probably screwed up the picture the same way tissues in your pocket would. It hadn't occurred to me to take it out 'cause I HADN'T REALIZED I WAS GOING IN THE FREAKING BACKSCATTER.

Then she sent me on her way.

I'm not gonna lie, it was very very efficient.

But seriously? It really really worried me.

What if I had been pregnant? (My mother and grandparents and other similar people read this so I'm going to take this opportunity to tell you, no I'm not pregnant. Nor am I even worried about the possibility. THIS IS HYPOTHETICAL.) The TSA people didn't know I wasn't pregnant and hadn't told me that I was entering a machine that would blast me briefly with radiation. Technically, I'm sure it wouldn't have hurt since obviously I was about to fly (wow. I'm seriously confusing my hypotheticals here.... My point is, if you're going through security, you're about to get on a plane. Unless you're meeting an unaccompanied minor.........), but what if the machine was malfunctioning?

I've had enough X-Rays in my life to know that X-Ray technicians have to ask you EVERY SINGLE TIME you have one done whether or not you're pregnant. Although the lovely women at my orthodontist have kind of stopped asking me. Actually it's funny. They were really good about it for years and years. I'm pretty sure I remember them asking me when I was, like, 10. But since I was about 16 they've kind of slacked off. Huh.

Anyway. Back on topic.

Imagine I had been pregnant. I was not given the chance to keep my unborn child from being born with multiple heads or limbs. Or any other birth defects that can be caused from prepartum radiation.* I was not even WARNED. Only once was I told what kind of technology was being used and it was mumbled.

I'm still pissed. Sometime this week I'm going to write a very angry letter to the TSA. I understand their need to use this machine although I am under the impression that it won't do much good. From what I understand, if terrorists are at the point of dealing with security, there's nothing the guys with the X-Ray machines can do to stop them.

I'm not mad about the machine.

BUT SERIOUSLY, TSA, TRAIN YOUR FREAKING EMPLOYEES. People who work with people need to be able to ENUNCIATE and speak in such a way that the travelers don't feel they are being yelled at.

When I asked if my bracelets were a problem, the lady snapped at me.

Two of the three people I dealt with during my encounter with what I am now calling the Rapiscam spoke completely incoherently about vital information.

If you ask me, I should have been told, very briefly, exactly what I was about to be examined by. Maybe not explicitly told "you have the option to opt out" but at least given the chance to say that I was opting out.

Grrrrr.

I feel I have been scammed by the TSA. The term "Rape&Scam" crossed my mind, but I decided it wasn't invasive enough to warrant the full term. However, if I wind up opting out at some point in the future (which I probably will. Not only to decrease my radiation but also to be difficult to ill trained TSA workers. I know it's not necessarily their fault, but I'm still mad at them.) I may change my mind to calling that. From everything I've heard, it may be invasive enough.

When I have time and am not tired, I will recount more of my travels from Boston to Philadelphia. It was quite uneventful, but filled with the possibility of abduction.

At least, it was filled with the possibility of abduction if you watch a lot of Law and Order (esp. SVU). Which I do.

But it's a story for another time.

*Would you call something that happens before birth prepartum? That's my best guess.... Or would it be prenatal?

An Open Letter to my Light

Dear Light,

I understand that you are very excited when you are turned on, but the singing has got to stop.

I'm sure you've noticed that I've been replacing you lately by opening my shades and using my lamps. It makes me feel more green, but it's a lot less convenient.

It's ok at first. I walk into the room and flip the switch and then go to work.

But then it starts. At first I don't notice it. But then it gets louder.

And louder.

Sometimes I think it has stopped but then you decide it's time for an encore.

Please stop with the singing. Seriously, it's ridiculous. I would appreciate silence when I'm working. I play music or whatever, but that your music isn't quite what I'm looking for.

If you can't try to stop the singing, I'm going to stop bothering to turn you on for long periods of time. You're only going to get turned on for long enough for me to get other lights going.

Consider yourself warned.

Sincerely, Wendy

PS Don't go crying to your other owner about this. I know your singing doesn't bother her, but she understands it bothers me. She might keep using you, but she doesn't mind when I switch to lamps and turn you off, so it won't make a difference if you complain.

My Favorite Show

You could say my childhood was defined by musicals: Peter Pan, Fiddler on the Roof, Sound of Music, the King and I, My Fair Lady, the Music Man... The list is pretty long, but figure it's mostly Rogers and Hammerstein, a little Lerner and Lowe, and generally "classic" stuff. In other words, all stuff my mother loves.

Especially when I was little, my siblings and I were all really into Peter Pan. I had an obvious reason, but I don't know what the pull was for my siblings. The point is, we all loved it.

When I was maybe 6, my whole family went to see Cathy Rigby in Peter Pan in Boston. We had seats right at the front of some balcony. I don't know which one, I just remember feeling like we were really far back, so part of me thinks it wasn't the mezzanine. Either way, I should probably mention here that the beginning of this story is about my brother, not me.

My brother was about 3 at this point. He knew the show, but I guess he didn't know what to expect. My mother watching him says that as the overture started, he levitated to the front of his seat. He sat up perfectly straight and you could tell he suddenly knew what he was there for.

Now comes my part of the story, just remember the whole levitating-straight-up–to–the–front-of-the-seat thing.

My junior year of high school, I went to see Phantom of the Opera in London. I'd never seen it on stage before and haven't seen it since.

Before this, I never really had a favorite musical. At this point, I considered Phantom and Les Mis to be among my favorites, by I wouldn't have picked one.

Phantom of the Opera starts very slowly, both on stage and screen, because it has a prologue before the overture. There's an auction and the last item the audience sees auctioned off is the chandelier sitting on the stage. The auctioneer says, "This is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster." He goes on about lighting for a bit and finally says, "Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination! Gentlemen!"**

Then the chandelier starts lighting up and lifting off the stage as the overture starts and the scene rewinds to the height of the Paris Opera House (by the way, this sequence is really cool in the movie....).

At the age of 17, I sat on one side of Her Majesty's Theatre in London on some random balcony watching the auction (My seat kind of sucked actually. But it was totally worth it.). As the auctioneer said, "Gentlemen!" I sat straight up. I moved to the edge of my seat. I was utterly transfixed on the chandelier now rising off the stage and the big awesome "duhm duh duh duh duh duh duduh..." (sing it, it's totally the tune...)

I had the same response as my three year old brother.

Now, I'm not saying that Peter Pan was Teddy's favorite show (although it might have been...), but suddenly, when I realized the reaction I had had, I realized I was kidding myself. I love Les Mis, really I do. And I love all the other shows I considered among my favorites. But I suddenly realized I do have a favorite show. And that show is Phantom of the Opera.

I'm not the only one with this reaction to the chandelier.

Last October, the production of Phantom in London celebrated its 10,000th performance and its 24th birthday. In honor of the occasion, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Michael Crawford joined the cast for curtain call (by the way, if you don't care about the whole video, ALW comes on at about 1:30 [technically it's later, but the orchestra does something totally fitting for his entrance, so just start there....], Michael Crawford comes on at 3:40, and he says what I'm talking about at about 4:42):



Ok, so maybe Mr. Crawford's reaction doesn't mean it's his favorite show. But I had the same reaction to something as Michael Crawford!!!!! That's really exciting for me... He's one of my idols. He's amazing and awesome....

As for the rest of watching the show in London, the guy who I saw playing the Phantom was Ramin Karimloo. That's the guy who, less than a year later, would originate the same role in Love Never Dies.

Wait, does that count as originating the role? I mean, he's not originating the character, but he's the first person ever to play that part.... Huh... Confusing...

I haven't seen Phantom since then, other than the movie and lots and lots of YouTube (both of it and LND), but I can still feel like I'm sitting in that seat. I can still feel like I'm there. My reaction when the chandelier went up only scratches the surface of how I responded to finally watching the show on stage.

**These lines are from Phantom of the Opera but may not be exactly word for word the lines. I am remembering them and writing them as I remember. I am also punctuating them as I see fit.