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Oct. 8th, 2007

Tim Burton can't possibly do better than this. And by the look of those previews, he certainly didn't.
I'm back again from camp, and this time for good.

New home, v. 3.0

Wait, is this France? Everyone is speaking French, but it feels like I fell into California, complete with warm weather, palm trees, and surfing. It's exactly like my half-brother's home in the suburbs of San Diago, only with less sand.

I'm in a small town by Rochefort, which is about four miles from the Atlantic Ocean. My family consists of a mother, father, two daughters (ages 12 and 16), and a son (20 years old). Everyone seems to be quite nice, even if I've become something of a weird celebrity among the girls' friends (who I've never even met). The father is a sculpter, the mother is his secretary, and the son is the guy who really should be from California. Lizbeth, you would want to be here right about now.

Haha, somehow everyone is under the impression that I'm a huge fan of Johnny Depp and Harry Potter. As a result I have posters all over my wall of said subjects. It's kind of funny in a very sad way.

I get to take German and Russian in school! Yeah, I have no prior experience or credentials, and it's a very difficult language, but hey! Russian!

The library here is even smaller than the one in Argenton-Château, and that's saying something. It's a small room with one big shelf. There are no CDs, DVDs, or anything of the sort; everything is made of paper, and half of the books are borrowed from the library in Rochefort. At least they have better taste. I checked out Le Parfum by Patrick Süskind, and fourteen pages in I'm already intrigued. Way to go small towns!

And there is a fencing club nearby! Maybe I'll be able to get some practice in after all.

Dec. 17th, 2006

Final proof that my family is just a little weird: our idea of a Christmas tradition is to read David Sedaris books aloud.

EDIT: And yes, I know that the coding on the meme is out of whack. Click at your own risk.

Meme that has nothing to do with anythingCollapse )

Two Questions, version 2.0

1) Is it possible to get diabetes or any other unpleasant disease from too much overly-sweet Christmas music?

2) Why is the Vienna cast recording of Cabaret split between English and German? Do they expect the audience to be perfectly bilingual?

Career Revelations

I know exactly what I want to be (professionally speaking): An art editor. I want to make a living critiquing art at the artist's request as a sort of cross between a teacher and a critic. Pointing out flaws, giving creative advice, and making judgements are all things I love to do with writing, so why not visual media? They share the same basic principles, after all; a line amounts to the same thing as a word. I know enough to catch errors and enough tact to be nice about it. With the right education this would be ideal. The only problem is, there is no education - this career doesn't exist.

I've talked to one of my teachers who informed me that only those who rule over graphic designers can do anything like that, and I've also poked around some colleges with no luck. According to Maman, artists have the wrong attitude  to ask for any aid of that nature.

Merde

Brief amusing anecdote

For whatever reason, my computer has this nifty little feature where whenever I hold the mouse over a word for a certain period of time, a little blurb pops up with all the possible French translations.

For example: Journal - Revue; Journal

Just for fun, I let it linger over the word "spam". Amusingly enough, it refused to translate it. SPAM, apparently, is the exception to all language.

Weekend!

And it's four days long! Which means, of course, that I need to get something done. Which means that those of you who still haven't given my your adjectives need to do so. What I'm doing with them takes time, and I've only got two so far (Apathetic and Sexy are now taken). Really, you're getting something out of this. I promise.

The video version of Ethan Frome is unbelievable. The '98 Valjean not only plays the lead, but his face-in-knitting moment is the most disturbing presentation of cunnilingus the world has ever seen. Yeah, Wharton was all about the UST symbolism; that was the entire book. Now really, though, did we need to see that? You don't go down on a random piece of fabric! You just don't.

Girl Behind Me: "What's stem cell research?"
Mr. Voss: "I need drugs to deal with this class."

That man is my hero, even if the course sucks.