I finally got around to seeing Inglourious Basterds.
As you know, Tarantino is a favorite of mine, as pompous as he is. One of my all-time favorite movies is Pulp Fiction, which I didn't see until high school, junior year. Kill Bill v1 was the first of his movies I had seen.... recommended by my favorite co-worker at the very first job I held. Like Kill Bill, I found a dvd-rip of Inglourious Basterds, and like Kill Bill, I found myself wishing I had seen it at the theater.

Like just about every Tarantino movie out there, this one had a stellar cast. I know I'm preaching to the choir here when I say that Deathproof was, even as a complete tribute, quite disappointing, mainly because I really didn't grow to like any of the characters involved. In Inglourious Basterds, a similar problem threatens the film, but fortunately, we are treated to the Pulp Fiction style of interweaving between more than one story. Likeable characters are killed off at the peak of their roles in the story, which, let's face it -- sucks. Hicox was such a charming and competant character who could have easily taken the lead in the movie or at least partnered up with Raine, making for an amusing foil at the very least. I didn't care that Bridget von Hammersmark was strangled to death - but I got all butt-hurt over Hicox pretty much dying off-screen in a shootout. So enough about Hicox and the one that got away... how about Shosanna? She leads my favorite scene in the movie - the Cat People music video. I really liked the tension in her scenes, especially when she is "courted" by Zoller and comes face to face with Landa. I wish there had been much more there with Shosanna.

Oddly, my favorite character in the movie is Landa. Christoph Waltz seemed to be a nazi-version of Jules, who is, of course, everyone's favorite Pulp Fiction character. You love to hate him. I loved every scene with him, particularly at the end: "that's a BINGO!" lol. One thing Tarantino probably left open to the audience was whether or not Landa knew Shosanna's identity when he orders her a glass of milk. In hindsight, one might think he would have immediately killed her like von Hammersmark, except he had for some unknown reason, allowed her to live in the very beginning. Was he somehow able to deduce her intentions to burn the cinema down on "Nazi Night"? If so, did he allow her to carry on because he thought it would aid him further in his conditional surrender? Hmmmmm. Expertly written character. I enjoyed Brad Pitt's performance too, particularly his Don Corleone facial expressions and immortal southern drawl. "Areevarderrrchi." :P

I think Tarantino has evolved a little bit in his need for gore. I felt that the violence was much much more condensed than it could have been, or rather, than anyone would have suspected. The scalping was pretty nasty, but apart from that, we're really just left to cringe when Raine carves the swastika into Landa's head. It was quite tasteful, given the setting. The dialogue is partially where "Inglourious Basterds" suffers. The way I come to that determination is by comparing it to every other Tarantino flick and coming out with an insufficient amount of memorable one-liners. True, the shortage makes you appreciate what IS there all the more, but I did expect more.

So in all, placing "Inglourious Basterds" among Tarantino's other films, here is how I would rank it.
1st Place - Pulp Fiction
2nd Place - Kill Bill v2
3rd Place - Kill Bill v1
4th Place - Jackie Brown
5th Place - Inglourious Basterds
6th Place - Reservoir Dogs
7th Place - Death Proof

Friday, I thought I could be Superman. I walked crossed Dale Mabry HWY with white latex gloves on each hand, carrying two empty garbage bags. My mission: to scoop up all of the trash across the street from my apartment complex... from one traffic light to the next one a quarter of a mile away. Now a quarter of a mile, isn't much at all, even on foot. I walk that length and more just about every day. Most people walk that length when they go grocery shopping in a large store, especially if their car is not near the handicapped parking. In Tampa, however, even in the middle of November, the heat is very much on, and it is combined with a lot of humidity and pollution from traffic. So I'm picking up all the nastiness that is stored within the grass and waterless ditches, recalling my days as a Boy Scout when our troop would go on camping trips, and at the end of them, when everything was packed up, everyone would walk at an arm's length apart, picking up all of the trash we could find at our camp site. I was alone this time, and as such, it took at least twice as long as it would have if there were more people.
Two and a half hours later, I have one full bag of trash in tow, with the other bag wrapped around the gash I acquired during this whole experience. I think it was from this shattered Fisher Price doll house that someone chucked from their car, and one of the sharp plastic pieces gouged me while it was in the bag. My gloves were filled with sweat, and whenever I would wipe my face or anything, they would leak all over. But when I got to the gas station at the next intersection, I looked behind me to survey my handiwork, and it all seemed very much worth the effort. I got a few honks while I was doing it, and some guy cheered at me, and that all felt good. Yay for me.

But today, while running errands, I passed by that stretch of grass again. To my shock and dismay, there was just as much garbage as there was Friday, possibly even more. Two things to consider. This stretch shares the only sidewalk on that portion of Dale Mabry, and this stretch is also very close to a high school and gas station. I'm betting it's kids who leave it, but I don't believe it is only them. Half of what I picked up Friday were pieces of shredded Marlboro packs, as well as broken beer bottles. There were many candy wrappers and random pieces of paper, likely thrown from a car. The foulest fact of life, however, comes from the people who (probably) do not litter - the landscaping crew. I don't know who signs their paychecks, whether it's the county, city, or if it's an aggregate contract issued by the apartment complex's who likely own that section of land, even there is a gigantic concrete wall extending the entire length of the way. At any rate, the landscaping crew parks their truck and trailer out on the grass, unloads their tractor/lawnmower, unloads their edging tools and leaf-blowers, and they get to work. They do not, however, pick up the garbage. What they do is mow OVER the garbage, breaking it down into little pieces that are even harder to pick up when they become glued to the grass and dirt over the passing hours of the day. They have the means to collect the trash in likely less than half an hour, but that is not the job they are paid for.

So, like Superman, I stand before Darkseid, the cruel and power-hungry dictator of Apokalips. He is worshipped by his "people" as a god, regardless of how nasty he may be, and when Superman brings him to his knees in front of them.... they help him back up. It seems that the people of Tampa wish to live in filth. I did expect this to happen, but I didn't think it would be so goddamn soon, and it almost feels as if it was done out of spite, like people saw how clean it looked and wanted to make a mess of it. I was actually considering arranging a meeting at a library to address the growing pollution, maybe even start some manner of organization to clean up the roadside with a group of volunteers. I still think it's a good idea, but it may be that I'll have a job soon.

McDonald's called me... wanting me to come in for an interview on Wednesday. Yes, it is McDonald's, but income is income, and I most definitely need it. Wish me luck.

Tomorrow will be 18 years since Freddie Mercury passed away.
In honor of his awesomeness, you WILL watch this performance of Radio Ga Ga from Live Aid, 1985.

Wow! This is going to be a post unlike any other.
I just got back home a little while ago from the stage performance of Romero's Night of the Living Dead, and it was utterly fantastic. I haven't been to a live performance before, and it's been a year and a half since I went to Steph's impressive high school musical, Les Miserables. It was such a treat, and I actually felt guilty only paying $12 (w/tax) for my ticket. I must confess, I had not seen the horror classic before a week ago, after I had heard that this performance was in town. I promptly downloaded it and enjoyed it for what it was, even with the age it has accumulated over 41 years. Most impressive of all, I think, is how UNformulaic the entire movie is, and I say that it is impressive because if you check out the horror movies and just the majority of movies filmed around the year 1968, it really stands on its own.

Now onto the show. I went into it thinking it was going to be a musical, and with that idea, I thought it was a little suspect. Getting there early, I managed to procure an awesome front row seat on the left side, and although it was at a funny angle, I had a lot of the advantage. The theatre was not at all what I had expected it to be, and it seemed to be a great deal disappointing at first. It wasn't an auditorium; the lights were mounted like a studio apartment, the stage was mounted and small with the only furnishings already out in place, but I still waited eagerly for the show to begin.
Speaking of the stage, this is roughly (from my not very good memory) what it looked like:


The play began with the room darkened, save for a spotlight on the headstone and the surrounding floor. The setting is obviously the cemetary, and the opening scene has been cut short (which is all fine, really) to only include Barbara and her brother Johnny, laying the wreath on their father's headstone. As warned by the director before the production started, Johnny lit one up. It was there that if felt oddly authentic to me, and I was watching from then on with both amusement and captivation. It's odd because I am never around people who smoke... ever. I thought it was funny (and the audience as well) when the actor actually put out his cigarrette on one of the fake flowers on the wreath. It was definitely a good opening, as the actor who played Johnny was both amusing and charming, and the actress who portrayed Barbara was equally charming and funny. When she stumbles into the first zombie, it got a little strange, not because of the actual encounter and the fight with the zombie and Johnny, but the way they cut away from the scene where Barbara runs away. She screams, the lights go out, and then she's on the stage, hurrying through the front door when the lights go back on.

Apart from that, however, I think everything else was OUTSTANDING. The dialogue was really word for word in just about every place that matters. The actors were pretty talented, especially Ben and Mr. Cooper, who have a very energetic shouting match. The slaps and punches were a little iffy though, with the actors and actresses taking great care not to hurt each other, but that goes with the territory. The news coverage was pre-recorded and shown on the LCD TV above the couch. The placement of which is intentionally ironic... the actors were watching the audience while the audience was supposed to be watching the tv. The kiss scene where Judy and Tom have their moment alone was phenomenal up until the actual kiss. Judy was about an inch taller than Tom, and had to lean a little while keeping a "respectable" distance away from the actor, and as the kiss was interrupted, Tom pulls away, and Judy nearly fell over. They all took it in stride though, which was cool. Barbara is cute and NOT annoying as she is in the movie, making funny faces during arguments and making motions towards the actors with the fireplace poker while hiding underneath the table.

The blood wasn't as gratuitous as I had expected it to be, which older audience members probably appreciated. A man does have his intestines ripped out (the view is shielded by a mob of flesh-eating zombies as it happens), and the make-up jobs are pretty creative. When Ben is shot in the head at the very end, the crew rigged a squib to go off right beside him, creating a pretty convincing arterial spray, which shocked most of the audience. I also enjoyed the use of their replica rifles and pistols, loaded with blanks of course. Made everyone jump whenever they went off, but not the actors... guess they'd be used to it by then.

As a closing act, all of the actors including the zombies got on stage when the lights were out... and when the lights came back on, they danced to Thriller. Seemingly cliche as you read this, but when you're there and experience the anti-climatic death of the hero, having the cast dance to Michael Jackson is downright hilarious. Oh they got into it. They didn't do the dance number verbatim, but it was a good light-hearted tribute. I left with a smile plastered across my face after having stood for a few minutes applauding the cast as they rose from their fallen places, bowed, and took their leave. It was the most fun I've had for so very very long.

So here's my Halloween costume... with the Michael Myers-esque mask.
http://img62.imageshack.us/img62/9484/hpim4794.jpg

I sewed the majority of the coat and the purple satin wig.... I'll have a better picture of it some other time when there's less going on. The character is from one of my sister's favorite animes (why, I do not know) Fushigi Yuugi... he's a bi consort who spends half of the series dressing like a woman. Monica dressed like her other favorite character from the anime.

I really wish I knew some people here to get smashed with tonight. With Michael's kids over, they of course laughed at my get-up (and I couldn't keep a straight face while wearing it), but they don't get into it like I do... and in fact, they were really embarassing me. That whole sentence sounds dumb, but trust me, it does make sense. Aaron decided to tag along wearing all of his stupid airsoft gear strapped to him, and also figured it would be fun shooting kids with plastic bb's. Monica was humiliated, but at least everyone complimented her costume (which I sewed together in it's complete entirety, with the exception of her orange satin wig). Emma went with Wanda and Michael, neither of which have to dress up to be scary together. Emma..... I really don't understand........ she's 7 years old and they decided to dress her up like a ballerina, which is perfectly appropriate, except her tights had a large revealing cut-out in the center.... yeah, WTF?

Monica was the designated candy collector, as she's the shortest of all of us. I was really just a participating chaperone, as I'm 6'3" and sounded like Darth Vader when I spoke through the mask. Had a few moments that brought up the "aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?" only, you know, the opposite. There was a kid in full skeleton costume, sitting out front passing out candy, playing dead in a chair.......... except I was in front when we approached, and he got scared of me, forking over the candy without the jumpy rountine. I would have felt bad if it wasn't so damn funny. There was a house where a gay couple complimented my costume (the only one).... and Aaron, being the DICK that he is, grew insecure.... coughing "fudgepackers" and ran away. I apologized and they just nodded, unamused, and I carried on.

So........
onto events not related to my favorite holiday......

Six Feet Under.
I have, to date, seen every single episode of every season.
I started off liking it. The best season of every series is always the first one. I've only heard good things about the show and had some pretty high expectations for it. With the exception of a few episodes of each season, I've got to say, it sucked for the most part. Michael C. Hall and Mathew St. Patrick were really the only two things that made the show worth watching, and maybe James Cromwell's later appearances. Ruth Fisher, the mother, is just too explosive and bitchy for anyone to feel sorry for or garner any interest. Claire Fisher is just the same, only she's written to somehow stylize some revolutionary artist cliche.... which is nothing but annoying and stupid. Nate Fisher started out as a very likeable character, but in the interest of passing on the drama - Nate becomes self-destructive, self-pitying, and, well, stupid. Brenda is just the same, except she was never likeable and tried to stylize being a total whore, in addition to a retarded attempt to garner sympathy for being a whore. Yeah.... no. Fredrico Diaz is just an annoying prick who no one cares about. Seriously, the only reason I kept watching the show was because of Keith and David.

Dexter is getting worse and worse. Sort of like Saw, it's just hit and miss, over and over again. This season's serial killer's identity is revealed within the first 30 seconds, and is in fact, added to the opening credits. Don't get me wrong, I like John Lithgow, and he would be really creepy...... except there is no mystery behind the character. He basically plays Dick Solomon as a quieter serial killer. Then there's the desperate attempts to inject some interest and make no sense while doing so. Frank Lundy comes back to Miami, retired, but still hunting the "trinity killer"... Lithgow's character. Of course, that means he and Deb were bound to fuck at some point.... and that they do. Angel and LaGuerta are suddenly together... and as fitting as that is in hindsight - that Angel always goes for someone bad for him, and LaGuerta's always sleeping around..... there are some pairings that just don't need to be happening. Rita is stupid as usual, and when she isn't stupid, she's melodramatic, which is even more irritating. There's a completely retarded relationship between Quinn and some bimbo reporter, which we are supposed to take seriously, but I just can't. I've lost interest.

I'm reading a great novel that Steph gave me. It's called "The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death" by Charlie Huston. The title itself seems reason enough to want to read it, but once I opened it, I have to say, I didn't really like the format. The trouble I had was adapting to the lack of quotation marks whenever there is a dialogue, which made it very confusing. There is a dash system, however, which works in its place. Didn't like that, but I'm used to it now. I really like the style apart from that, and I'm over half-way through it after starting it today.... which is phenomonal, with how slow I usually read things. It took me half of a month to read "It" all the way through, and I was on it at some point each day. Anyways, the cool thing is that Charlie Huston actually wrote the reboot for Moon Knight - which is extremely violent but pretty inventive, despite the modernistic streamlined approach. I am, in fact, noticing some similarities between some characters and Webster from "The Mystic Arts...."

Anyways, loving the book so far... gonna finish it tonight.

Also, I'm going to be practicing all week long this next week on boosting my typing speed. Temp agencies usually have you tested rather than taking your word for it, which is only smart. There is an employment agency that we have yet to really check out, and since things didn't work out with Target (but Taco Bell?), I'll be visiting them the week after next.

Crickey it's rabid!

Lots of shit hit the fan this week.
*Sunday night I had a grand-mal seizure, the second one this year while fully medicated.
To my surprise, I was more cognizant of what was going on afterwards than usual. I did not have the seizure while I was on the phone with Steph... that was horrible and I don't want to ever put her through something like that again.... but I was able to identify the seizure and report it to Steph about half an hour later, when I regained consciousness. I sprained my neck while convulsing, likely fell off my bed with my cell phone in my pocket (I have a very large bruise on my thigh where it would go). I scraped the inside of my left arm on the dresser on my way down and bruised my left shoulder blade on the floor. The worst of it though, was when I bit down on the side of my tongue. I am very grateful for the fact that my tongue is fat and small, because while I'm not the make-out king of Tampa, it's better than not having one. Regardless, it has only now begun to heal well enough that chewing does not cause my eyes to water up.

*Flashback a couple of months......
My first adult neurologist packed up shop and moved up to Jacksonville with no notice whatsoever. My prescriptions are running short, but thankfully, my primary physician reviewed my records and saw that I've been on the same meds since I've had my driver's license, and therefore saw it fit to write a renewal on the prescription. Last week, I received a letter in the mail from my primary, addressed to all of his patients, exclaiming that he closing his practice. Today, I managed to get ahold of my insurance provider and register as a patient of a new primary, as a primary is required to see a specialist (neurologist).

*Monday morning, I woke up pretty late (11:50am is pretty late for me) and found that my laptop's AC adapter was malfunctioning. What I imagine happened was that I came in contact with the cord during my seizure and probably fucked something up. I had made certain to unplug the adapter each and every time the laptop was turned off or not in use, so I think it was no coincidence that my brain and the AC adapter switched off at the same time. Today, the replacement adapter came in the mail.

*After just about every seizure that I remember having..... I've encountered some change in perspective. This new outlook, however you want to put it, doesn't ever last very long, so I don't think this one will either. With this last seizure, I've been less self-conscious in public than I usually am. That's not to say that I go around slovenly with long nails and greasy hair..... it's more of tearing down certain barriers that shouldn't have really been there in the first place. For instance, I don't make detours around people when it appears as if I would intersect through their projected path. I don't worry about my proximity to children when their parents are around, for the projected fear that I may be a child-molester. And when I applied at a Halloween Warehouse Wednesday, I didn't concern myself with a "what-if". My brain literally restarted, but it's no longer in safe mode.

-----
Now onto less important matters.
Marvel Entertainment (as in the movie studio) was bought up by Disney. I still don't really know what to think about this. For sure, it means that there will no longer be R-rated movies such as the Punisher, but in that respect, no one is missing anything - they're all crap. Moon Knight would have been an awesome television series on Showtime or HBO, but that won't be happening. Apart from that however, I really don't see much of a down-side. Everything has already been set up to become a franchise, so with Disney (known for milking franchises dry) taking over, there should be no expectations that weren't already present. Pirates of the Caribbean was pretty awesome. Its sequels - not so much, but they were nothing terrible.

Also, 20th Century Fox has announced that they will be rebooting the Fantastic Four movies. I'm kind of amused. Reboots are being tossed around like they're the only things that sell in Hollywood because as we all know, there is a sore lack of originality in the trade these days. You should know that I think that only one reboot was 100% successful, and that was Star Trek. I think this is just a waste.

I remember reading about 10 different versions of Cinderella in middle school as about two days worth of multi-cultural studies in the Social Studies unit of my first block class. Then I got to looking at two teaser trailers for two Marvel animes... Iron Man and Wolverine. Iron Man looks cool if anything, whereas Wolverine just looks like any anime character, only with six 2 ft claws. I don't know if they're supposed to be direct-to-dvd movies, or if they're two seperate shows. Anyway, I think it might be interesting to see the Japanese version of Iron Man, given the nature of the American content.

So I got an idea for a comic... or rather, a number of short stories/one shots.
Not really my idea, but more along the lines of a different take on classic stories and characters. Imagine a quasi-realistic setting for classic characters and superheroes, taking away the colorful symbolism they're attributed with, and just painting them for what they were actually representative of.

Take for instance, the superhero team often referred to as "Marvel's First Family", the Fantastic Four. Before Fantastic Four arrived, there were were only two reoccurring characters in Marvel comics - Captain America and Namor the Submariner.... the rest were just one-shots involving aliens, monsters, or just everyday people. When challenged to make a superhero team like the Justice League, Kirby and Lee came up with the Fantastic Four. The first issue did not set up a larger story, it might as well have just been a one-shot.

So I'm going to base the story on the backgrounds told a bit later on, dealing with the heroes past and upbringing, and then leave it right at the first issue, where they go up in space. The idea that they started on but didn't really go much further with was the space race. Sue tells Ben "we've got to beat the commies". Imagine how much potential is housed in that statement. That's what I'm going to work with. This is going to take place during and after the McCarthy era, where the red scare was the most prevalent, and made people do some really stupid shit.

Warning - Social Commentary Approaching


Alright ladies and gentlemen, and flamboyant gentlemen, tonight we're going to talk about the obsession with Vampires.

Personally, I don't think Hollywood/etc has a real obsession with it. I really just think people are too lazy and uncreative. Nowadays, just about everything is a metaphor for sex. Or sexuality, take your pick. Because Steph has warned me against it, I've completely avoided Twilight. I had no interest, and as it's been going down in literature for generations - they can't come in unless they're invited. Anyway, I don't care to do any research on a series whose author completely disregards folklore to make an ingenuous teenage drama collection. So with that said, I'm leaving Twilight out of this.

So we're going to concentrate on "True Blood", a critically-acclaimed HBO series that I managed to acquire via the interweb.
In a nut-shell, the show takes place in a semi-present reality, where vampires not only exist, not only have made themselves known to the entire world, but are struggling for equal rights. Scientists have found a way to synthesize blood and distribute it in mass quantities, making it legal and acceptable to give vampires what they need to survive. The drink is named "True Blood". So that's the background, and as the idea may sound interesting, it is barely in focus throughout the show. The concentration is on a very small town in Louisiana, where the main character, Sookie Stackhouse, lives. She is a waitress with limited telepathy. Her boss who carries a big crush on her, is a shapeshifter. She befriends after rescuing the resident vampire, Bill Compton.

Yeah, it's that kind of a show. And it really isn't that complicated. By watching the opening credits, you'll also get a summary of what you're in for. Sex, prejudice, religious zealots, and salvation. Every episode begins with some surprise to set up the rest of it, wraps it up as much as it can before it reaches the end, and at the end - always some startling surprise/cliffhanger. Obviously, vampirism is a metaphor for homosexuality. The big reveal is frequently called "coming out of the closet". Churches display on their roadside billboards - "God hates fangs". It's cheesy, and the producers probably caught onto it quickly by putting it in the background after the first couple of episodes. My question (which I have the answer to already) is this: why can't they be bold and leave out the supernatural elements and confront the themes of prejudice and discrimination head on? The answer is that unfortunately, the larger percentage today doesn't want to see gay men cast in the limelight.

But anyway, the quality of the series has great potential. It evidently doesn't only focus on vampires, as the main character can read everyone's thoughts - except for vampires. She can't really control it and has a great difficulty shutting out the voices from around the bar where she works. As I said, her boss, Sam, is a shapeshifter. He isn't like Mystique or the T-1000 where he can assume the image of other people.... he just turns into dogs. He keeps this a secret to himself. There is a long-lasting love-triangle between Sookie, Bill, and Sam, which becomes incredibly annoying as the series progresses. Sam sees Bill as an intruder, doesn't trust him, and bears nothing but hostility to him because Sookie is so attracted to him. Bill was turned during the Civil War, resents vampires, and has a pretty literal force-bond with Sookie. Sookie is her own woman and grows increasingly frustrated by her two suitors trying to lay claim over her, and though she cares deeply for the town, she hates how fake its inhabitants are. The first season's story focuses on the murders of women in the area who had a previous relationship with a vampire. In that respect, it feels a lot like the first season of Dexter.

The problem is, there's so much gratuitous sex. I don't take offense to it, but I'm just wondering why it has to be so prevalent. Sookie's older brother Jason is fuck buddies with three different women, and the sex scenes really aren't shot tastefully. Sookie's best friend Tara (who has a crush on Jason) sleeps around with Sam to relieve their sexual frustration as "friends with benefits" until he breaks it off. Sookie sleeps with Sam at some point too, though this doesn't last very long. Anna Paquin is indeed, very lucky to have the rare opportunity to have so many love scenes with her real life boyfriend, Stephen Moyer, the actor who plays Bill. And they get it on in some of the most random ways. One pretty shocking scene is at night where Sookie is looking over the headstone of Bill, thinking that he had burned to death in the daylight. As she gets up to leave, a hand pops out of the ground and grabs her. She is horrified until the body attached to the hand turns out to be Bill, who springs out of the ground naked, covered head to toe in dirt. As he's been without sustenence for over a day, he proceeds to ravage Sookie, biting her while they have sex in the graveyard! That's one for the books.

Even with the themes, the mystery-driven story, and a great lead actress as Anna Paquin, True Blood feels like it's just a porno soap opera. The identity is quickly lost. Don't get me wrong. There's some really interesting characters in the show, and enough humor thrown around to be enjoyable. But they throw vampires and other supernatural elements in it to try to cover everything up. And it's worked, apparently. This is an HBO series, meaning people have to pay extra for it, meaning that it has to have a LOT of viewers to keep airing.

So I'm asking those who read this: "why does Vampirism sell so well?"

...that not all mistakes are bad.
Left to right, from the top:
Uncle Joe, Monica, Justin, Aunt Julia, Jennifer, Me, Jessica, and Julian.

Hehehehe, Once Upon A Time in Mexico is sitting on the coffee table.

The visit was too short. Over before we knew it. We didn't have much to do, I mean we don't have too much money to take them around places like Busch Gardens or Adventure Island, but even that was irrelevant. Nearly the entire time my extended family was here, the rain came down so hard that outdoor activity was pretty much out of the question.

They surprised us on Wednesday. They got in at about 9:45pm (their 8:45) and were dead tired. Everyone was awkward about seeing each other in what I think is appropriate to refer to as a "7 year reunion", which was of course expected. It never helped that Michael was present to begin with, and cast a very unwanted shadow on a lot of things. Penny was going insane because of how many people were squeezed into the room, and because she's so neurotic, she barked and lunged at anyone who moved. We didn't get to know each other again, everyone was too shy or too insecure to share a lot, unfortunately. When Michael finally left the room, and when Penny was locked up in Monica's room, we all seemed capable of breathing properly, and arranged ourselves on the couch, futon, and bar stools of the living room.

Thursday was tense at first, as the plan was to go to the beach in St Petersburg around noon, but the weather was threatening. Monica and I rode with Uncle Joe, Jennifer, Julian, and Justin, while Jessica rode with my mom and my Aunt Julia. Jessica seemed to be very uncomfortable around my mom. Thankfully, Monica wasn't in character, and adopted Uncle Joe as her best friend for the day. Julian was bored out of his mind most of the time, so he and Jessica just hung together in their own little niche that I seemed welcome to join. We drove over to the beach and right before we got there, the sun came out of the clouds in eerie anticipation of our visit. Self-conscious as I am, I left my Marvin the Martian shirt on while we all tried to jump over the waves for about 20 minutes. Then came the lightning, followed shortly by some thunder... sending everyone swimming to the sand as if recreating a classic scene from Jaws. After we dried off and changed, we ate our sandwiches packed in the cooler, and headed over to the Salvador Dali museum. The way I see it, even if in any other circumstances, I would have thought the experience was fascinating, but Jessica, Julian, and I shared a common goal - avoiding my mom who elected herself the tour guide of the museum. This was our time together, not another day for my mom to try herd us around like sheep, so I hung out with them. As much as I admire Dali's work, I don't think his self-obsession is interesting enough to take us all over. At any rate, when we left, Aunt Julia thought it best to go directly back to their hotel so that they could shower off and relax a little while before dinner. The drive back was long and tiring because of how bad traffic is during rush hour. Driving over the Howard Frankland bridge made me noxious at a gruelling hour and 20 minutes, but I made it. After we got home and cleaned up, we all pitched in to make dinner for our extended family, and they reached the apartment just before dinner was ready.

I'm going to add to this, that I have some pretty awesome plans, fool-proof ones at that. After dinner, instead of sitting around waiting for it to get late, I showed Justin, Julian, Jennifer, and Jessica to my room, where Monica kept Justin and Julian busy playing Smash Bros on the Gamecube. With the Aunts and Uncle out of the way, we could talk amongst ourselves in a somewhat candid manner, and they could do the same.
Jessica has pretty much what anyone her age would like to have (maybe). She lives in her own apartment, works at Gamestop, and is about to go to college. Julian didn't really talk that much and Justin was even quieter... except when he was kicking everyone's ass with Sheik. The last time I visited them, it was in Texas, I made a complete asshole out of myself spending hours on their N64. Being a tad bit more mature this go-around, I stayed away from the controllers. 
My mom and Michael were anxious, wanting things their way with no regard for what our relatives wanted or, for that matter, were comfortable with. Michael was bitchy because he was missing his precious Countdown. I'm sorry, but there are two universal things that are not meant to be discussed at the dinner table, or among a family who do NOT share your beliefs, and those are religion and politics. It was funny though, when we were eating dinner (not altogether, because there wasn't enough room for ten people), Uncle Joe and Jessica were just as annoyed by Michael as I was, and seriously jumped the first time he let out his H-HAR HAR HAR HAR *Clap* HA HA HAAAAAAA laugh... at his own story that no one else but my mom thought was amusing. They went so far as to do their own impressions of him..... RIGHT IN FRONT OF MICHAEL. He promptly stormed off and closed himself up into Monica's room to watch Rachel Maddow's show with the dog. As Steph said: "what a diva."

When Jessica got bored watching Monica, Justin, and Julian play, the three of us including Uncle Joe, went down to take the garbage downstairs. When we got back up, I went back into my room, grabbed three DVDs, and let them pick out a movie to watch. Two Weeks Notice, Once Upon a Time In Mexico, or Transformers. My mom wanted everyone to watch Transformers, but only Jessica hadn't seen it. Jessica bought Uncle Joe the Mariachi trilogy, so as much as they loved it, they wanted to see something they haven't.... and they all love Sandra Bullock (who doesn't?). Word gets to Michael that we're about to put on a movie, and so he comes in to dictate what we have to watch. Anger Management. True, it is the only Adam Sandler movie that I can stand to watch on my own (because of Jack Nicholson) but they had already made their decision. "A chick-flick?! Oh come on man (talking to me), put something else on!"

My mental response: "Fuck off."
My actual response: "Uh, we're watching this... THEY want to watch this."

Stomp stomp stomp over to his room to go sulk. You know what that bastard does? He deliberately lets the dog out because in his mind, she should be just fine with everyone... even though I warned against it, and my mom being the subservient dumbass that she is, said "go for it!" Well Penny didn't do anything but sit on the floor by Uncle Joe, and was calm and happy because he was petting her. But then Jennifer walks in (she's not quite three feet tall), and Penny jumps RIGHT IN HER FACE, barking at full volume. Scared Jennifer to tears, and likely, she doesn't have a very nice opinion of dogs anymore. Fucking idiot.
Despite that upset, we managed to enjoy the movie (my Uncle above everyone else because he loved the soundtrack), and when it was over, we hugged each other goodbye.

As soon as the door closed, however, my mom showed her true colors. Rwar. She thought that I was out to steal her control over the entire situation throughout the day, and pitched a fit because no one liked Michael (and of course, I'm to blame :?). She's so fake. Her whole life is a lie, and when the blindfold covering her eyes slips off for a second, it becomes HELL. She even went so far as to say that Two Weeks Notice wasn't age-appropriate for everyone to see, and tried to say that I was excluding my younger cousins by putting it on. She hated that Monica and I spent so much time with Uncle Joe, because after all, he's SUCH a terrible person.... right? No, he may be the typical father figure with a largely hispanic heritige, but whatever goes on when we're not looking, is something my Aunt Julia chose for herself, against the will of my grandparents.... and has had 6 children with, having been married for over 25 years. My mom is just a crazy super-judgemental bitch.

On Friday, my mom went to school in the late morning, during which time my extended family went swimming at the hotel pool and chilled. I was kind of expecting them to come by when my mom was at school (which would have been amazing), but they waited until after she was home. We offered to do their laundry and they let us. You know what movie my mom turned on? Anger Management. Because the jokes are DEFINITELY more age-appropriate there, right? Discretion isn't something my mom possesses. They thought it was funny, but it clearly wasn't their choice movie. Not the end of the world though, and at least we gave my mom a reason to be such a crazy bitch at the end of the night. After the movie, we were all just kind of restless.... I mean no one wanted to go out because they didn't want to get caught in the rain again, but they didn't want to just sit around and do nothing. Video games wasn't going to cure that either. Uncle Joe showed us a bit of his band in Boerne, TX on his iPhone, which was pretty nice I guess. We all made sure to get each other's phone numbers programmed into our phones, after learning that we all have the same mobile-to-mobile AT&T phone plan. Jessica was texting most of the time, and Jennifer was beating up her brothers.

Eventually, we left it in the hands of Uncle Joe to decide what to do. He picked his favorite movie from our DVD collection - Stand and Deliver with Edward James Olmos (yes Steph, I know he's like, your favorite character in Blade Runner). Going off on our own in groups to go do things might have been nice, but then, you feel either guilty for not spending time with everyone else, or at odds with the people who aren't in your clique. Uncle Joe, Jessica, and Julian were getting a little annoyed with my mom and Aunt Julia because they were just standing out on the balcony, right outside from where we were sitting in the living room, bitching about their lives, while we were just kind of looking for something to do. Hence, Stand and Deliver.

As time progressed, my mom kept on getting phone calls from Michael about dinner, and finally, the decision was made to get up and go eat out at Ci-Ci's. If you haven't been to Ci-Ci's before, you should know that it is both cheap, of lesser quality, but has an all-you-can-eat pizza buffet. Michael has his kids this weekend, and so he brought them over to meet us all for dinner. Holy Awkward Moment Batman! Just walking up to the restaurant from the car, my mom points them out, and I hear Jessica whispering something to Julian, and my Aunt Julia goes: "shhhh, now if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." I had warned my mom days beforehand that it would be a bad idea, that the three would dominate the entire dinner table with both their presence and retarded conversation, but as always, she did not listen. And sure enough, that is exactly what happened. We put three tables together to seat all of us, and Michael decided that it would be best to sit in the MIDDLE of these three tables, with his kids on either side. Tactful, really tactful. And I really didn't take any comfort in knowing that my cousins were openly and expressively repulsed by Michael and his kids. When Jessica and Julian went up to go get their second helping, I asked: "having fun?". Jessica looks at me with her eyes all wide and says: "loads." I apologized, and Julian patted me on the back and said "its cool."

Why can't I live with them? Even though they live in Texas, I'd prefer that to the stupid people I encounter in Florida PLUS my completely fucked up so-called "family".... and I'd be a lot closer to California.



Well anyway, after dinner, Michael took his kids over to the apartment, and we followed soon after. When we got back, we finished watching the rest of Stand and Deliver, and when it was over, so was their visit. Hugs and goodbyes. When the door closed, Michael comes up from the hallway and says: "phew, its about time!" I wanted to rearrange his face, but decided it wouldn't be a good idea.

What I take from this the most is, sadly, not about them, but our dysfunctional "family", and a bigger revelation as to how fucked up we are. We live like hermits, with tvs and computers in each bedroom. I look down at my duffel bag containing the clothes I'll be changing into tomorrow morning, and see the tags I left on from when I flew up and over to Sacramento. "In Transit". I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight and tomorrow night because Michael's spoiled brat son Aaron will be sleeping in my bed, with my bedroom door locked. When we got word that my aunt, my uncle, and my cousins were going to probably be really late coming in, my mom was thrilled because she wouldn't have to see them that night, and admittedly, I was feeling a bit of relief because I was dreading the experience of what I had thought early on to be all of us judging each other. That isn't what happened. It IS what my mom and Michael have set up in terms of the condition of how the people of this household operate. Everyone walks on thin ice except for those two. They are so quick to tear everything apart before they can look at what is good, and that has rubbed off on me. I hate it, and I want it to go away.

I spent 7 hours on this motherfucking art meme, and my laptop freezes up and corrupted the file when I performed an illegal shutdown!

FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!

~Breathes~

So.... my Aunt Julia and Uncle Joe are coming over Wednesday night, probably Thursday morning actually. They're bringing nearly all of my cousins from my mom's side along, sans Joe and John. All of their names start with the letter "J", and as they are the most demonstrative catholics I've ever met, I have a lot of cousins, one of which, I have never met.
In order of appearance (lol): Joe - 24, John - 20, Jessica - 18, Julian - 15, Justin - 11, and Jennifer - 6.
Joe and John aren't coming. Joe is a drummer for a band called Full Throttle, sponsored by Lynard Skynard, and John is in college.

I haven't seen them in 7 years, and that was only for a few days. I do not know them, though I'd like to. They live in Texas, where everyone in my family except my dad and Monica are from. They will be staying at a hotel about 20 miles away from my apartment. They are staying until Friday night.

From what my mom has told me (which I always take with a grain of salt), the plan was originally for my Aunt to take Jennifer, Justin, Julian, and Jessica (if she hadn't found a job by then) to come and stay with us in August for a week, leaving my Uncle some time to relax and enjoy some free-time between semesters, as he is working on his own degree in Theology. When word got to my uncle about this, he was furious and demanded that if he doesn't go with them, they aren't going at all. It isn't that my uncle is not welcome - he is, but we all know that he didn't want to go because he doesn't really get along with my mom... especially now, given that she is Captain Atheist's squeeze, and flaunts it where ever she goes.
The reason why August was important was because that is when my mom has time between her summer and fall semesters to spend time with her sister, who she also hasn't seen in 7 years. My uncle just finished his semester, so now, with less than a week's notice, the plan has changed completely.

As I said, they'll be staying for almost 2 days in Tampa (actually Temple Terrace). My mom is still in school, and has classes that she refuses to miss on Friday. She is very particular about school. Her best friend growing up, died of cancer last year, and though her friend asked to see her (and her husband offered to pay for the plane ticket), my mom refused because she'd have missed half a week of school. YEAH. SO... the plan as it stands, is that they want to go to the beach in St Petersburg on Thursday, for the whole day. 

Texas has a ton of beaches. It shares the same Gulf of Mexico as Florida. THERE IS NOTHING SPECIAL ABOUT THE BEACHES HERE. But we'll go with them, because it's the only way to see them.
Friday - no plans.
Here is the shitty part.

They are leaving Friday night to drive to Orlando. "Why Orlando?" you might ask. Because they want to go to DISNEY!!!!!!!!!
Just for the day, right? Nope. For all of Saturday, and all of Sunday.
And uh, where are they staying? Would it be one of those hotels on the Kissimmee strip that are remarkably cheap because they are in constant competition with one another? Oh hell no. That would make SENSE.

Nope, they are staying at DISNEY, at HOTEL DISNEY to be exact. Hotel Disney, which, up until recently, had its own monorail service to the theme parks.... except, there was a crash that I'm sure you've heard of.

I'm just saying, what the fuck? If they wanted to go to Disney (they have never been to either one), then why didn't just drive over to California?

All that said, I'm going to really try my best to enjoy what time we do have with them.