24 September 2009

the ward-drobe of the fascinating woman

I was going to start out by complaining about the someone (whose name starts with a B) who seems to feel like the vocations I'm considering (KJ-i or mischievous ghost) are subpar (although, I will point out, being a mischievous ghost would be pretty childish and sassy). And I was going to point out that this someone (B) should maybe shove-it because he's just on the rebound anyway....
But apparently he's not alone in his disparages. And one cannot ignore Laquina's remonstrance that she wouldn't be able to tackle me if I were a poltergeist. Because I love getting wrestled to the ground. But hey, remember how I got you so good when you visited a month ago? Maybe it was just once, but I'm treasuring it.
Point being:
I guess I'll have to stick with being a documentartian.
So good thing I realized today that I am
irrevocably in love with documentary. It's a true love. It grows more and more each day, with each passing hour. Greg Kinnear once said, "I--can't help my self.*" I wish I could serve that to you with notations of his intonations, but let that suffice.
I can't help myself.
Sometimes as I'm sitting in [documentary production] class and we've just finished a discussion on post modernism vs. modernism vs. what that anthropologist said that has nothing to do with what we're actually supposed to be studying in class , and then we listen to a clip of someone's audio documentary and I get butterflies in my stomach and I can't stop smiling, I can't stop being in love. Somehow at some point, God made my soul out of documentary, I'm sure of it.

Also, I'm obsessed with saltine crackers lately and I think someone slipped me weed this evening because I have got the munchies.

And I want you to fully appreciate my phone's terrible vocabulary:
In the last week, text predictor has not recognized "ouch", "cougar(s)", "mascott", or "bastard." Just a note for my parents, that last one was most definitely in the appropriate bastard connotation of having unmarried parents and was not offensive whatsoever.

fridge pants.


*You've Got Mail

5 comments:

  1. I'd assume since I'm on the rebound and my name starts with "B" you were talking about me. As of now, I have actually made no comment towards the Kim Jon-il vs the poltergeist debate. I hope you didnt confuse me with that OldNWise character. I am me and only me.

    But just so you know, I'd go with he poltergeist. It would be like that Casper movie

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  2. OK, fine, it wasn't you. But I got you to comment. Ha.

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  3. my phone has had a hard time with "zipguns", "footloose", "burny", "dealy-o" (as in; what's the...), "sandpaper", "sensationalist", "farts", and "pimpernel" just to name a few... also, my phone could not figure out "cougar" on its own. what is the dealy-o?

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  4. Yeah, I kind of know what I'm talking about. And you did get me alright, but only ONCE. Ha Ha.

    I have fallen in love with radio documentaries that I can't see. I love imagining what people look like based on how they sound. Like Garrison Keillor, yuuck. Who knew?

    Also, I'm glad you finally fell in love with something because your ovaries have been begging for it.

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  5. How long have you and my ovaries been in cahoots?

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