I had a dream...

last night. And at a point, I looked down at my hand, saw a black dot, asked "am I dreaming?" and, swear to baby jesus, I felt the dream shift. I don't know if its my brain playing games with me but I definitely felt like I was in the dream. The terror was really vivid when the giant dog that was the size of a tank decided to come after me, and the hyperventilation definitely felt real when two of my friends got crushed by a giant tree trunk...

I shall check again tonight.

+ my movie list is being handled much more efficiently than my book list. shit. but Superman Returns (2006) dir. Bryan Singer.. not bad! I approve. And Clark Kent was definitely one of the better looking ones from what I can remember {wink}. I've also, embarrassingly, found that I actually have about 20 more of the movies on the list ready to watch on my computer... and they have just sat here forEVER. I don't know why I never watched them and just kept them on my comp. Today I also watched "The Red Shoes" (1948) dir. The Archers (Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger). VERY interesting.. very sad. As a post-feminism woman in my early 20's I can't say I really agree/get what the hell they were trying for with the "choose me, or choose dancing" and the "give up your life for me" and then the tragic ending that ensued... However, keeping half a century's change in mind, I feel the tragedy of the movie. The story within a story was very well played.

Tonight.. Jailhouse Rock. Starring Elvis Presley. I'm excited :P Bring on the swinging hips!

A New Ambition

I have decided that I must dumb myself down for the good of society. At least on paper, because apparently the newest epidemic after obesity, voluntary mental retardation by overly efficient and convenient handheld devices, and unemployment, is "over-qualification." I had heard of this growing disease while I was still in the process of becoming infected and did not understand the gravity of the situation. I am apparently TOO qualified - nay, OVERLY qualified - to grind coffee beans, push a button on the coffee machine, pour machine-brewed liquid into pre-assembled cup, seal with pre-sized lid, and accept bartering material through a window for the finished product. I would like to say that in fact sir, if you would look down my resume, you'll notice that none of my previous employers required I do any of above-mentioned actions therefore one could argue that I am indeed, highly UNDER-qualified for the job. In actuality, I am entirely over-qualified to read pre-K through 12th grade reading material and write underdeveloped, inadequately composed essays because my degree ensures that with my skill level I am capable of far more advanced analyses than what is required for such tasks. Yet as it is, in the realm of coffee brewing my degree has ensures nothing. I don't understand this new virus, but regardless I am infected.
Well, fuck all of that then. I shall erase my education and make certain that I am indeed COMPLETELY AND WHOLLY unintelligible, unambitious, underdeveloped, and 100% qualified for EVERY job in this damn town. Problem solved.

And speaking of over-qualified bullshit, I have decided that the critics at rottentomatoes.com can suck on my left STD infected ball because they don't know shit. Perhaps they too are "over-qualified" and never learned to actually watch for good movies and not just flashy graphics. How can they rate a completely plotless movie an 83% and a charming movie about re-starting your life and taking advantage of the opportunities that life present to you a 34%? Oh. Right. The first one has CGI animated apes that can speak. Obviously that is completely life-altering and ENTIRELY deserving of an extra 63% than the actual movie really is worth. Or course. Luckily, God and Buddha conspired to gift me with my own fucking brain and so against everything rottentomatoes.com would suggest, I watched both. On "SooJangles'-list-of-movie-ratings-tomatoes.com" the first movie gets a "don't ever watch again unless I am really ready to research talking apes and throw my life away" while I'll probably buy the second one. Wrong again. You can just suck it [my left STD infected ball that is] rottentomatoes.com. Neither your shoddy, inane, and baseless critiquing nor completely substandard criterion for ratings are needed here.

But what I REALLY wanna talk about... is my modest list of movies that I feel will enrich my life and enhance my understanding of movie-making and movie-watching throughout history. In a word: Culture. I am in the business of acquiring movie culture. The descending list begins at number 500. Don't worry, I've seen about 161 of the titles so it's not such an unreachable goal eh? It's a shame that I have seen so many movies and to think that only 160 of them are on this fancy list. How could I have wasted such time? Such energy?? Alas, it is a fool's destiny to work twice as hard as those who are the wiser. I am not going to post my list on my blog... because it was created by Empire Films and THEY have a list. All pre-typed up and with fancy pictures! WOOT! You can look up THE LIST here! Enjoy yourself, and tell me what you think. Any other suggestions?

P.S. My poo-unconscious post inspired a little story the other day. I chuckled:

Project Dreaming

I'm going to begin training myself how to lucid dream. Don't ask why. If you don't know, then we're no longer speaking.

Experiment 1: The dot method.

Step 1) You place a dot somewhere in the palm of your hand or anywhere that you will notice it during the day.
Step 2) Dot check. Throughout each day, anytime you look down and notice the dot on your hand, ask yourself if you are dreaming. This "Reality Check" is very important so take it seriously. Don't dismiss and think to yourself "Am I dreaming? Of course I'm not dreaming.." Build the habit of taking the question seriously- look around, observe your surroundings, begin noticing details. That way, when you are actually dreaming, you'll eventually be able to realize when it is that you are dreaming.

Results pending.

Potty Training

Taking a snow day from life, I have settled into our lovingly worn couch with the clicker in my hand and daytime tv on to tube. Now, I haven't had much time to hang out at home watching tv in a fair amount of time so I wasn't aware there was a tv show devoted to educating Americans to stay healthy and clean. Have you seen it? It's called "The Doctors."  Observe how doctorly all of these actors look!


Of course we all know any combination of scrubs, white coats, and stethoscopes mean doctors!! My issue is not with the show. The show is completely ridiculous and the worst part about it is that American intelligence/education of the human condition and what sustains it has fallen so low that this show is actually a needed step in the right direction.

No, my issue is not that. Though it should be, no? My issue is that today, on my lovely day of freezing indoors, I was blessed with the episode about "toilet yoga" and the very informational tidbit that you can pass out from straining too hard going number Two. Yes, apparently there are enough people who pass out taking a shit that it is worthy of daytime television. It's crazy that CNN hasn't picked up on this! Pshaw to journalism and the news! Thank goodness for "The Doctors!"

This is the kind of thing we spend our time sitting (or in my case, laying) on the couch watching when there are still places on this earth where people shit into holes in the ground. Maybe I'm assuming too much but I doubt they ever pass out from straining to get their nasty microwaved processed food out of their butt behind their hut as they shit into the ground.

EAT SOME FUCKING VEGETABLES, AMERICA!

What are we even talking about? I don't even know.

Decisions

As is evident by my sudden re-interest in my own blog again, I have very little to do here in my real life.  This is the case for two reasons:

a) I don't have a job. Before you start spitting in all your disdain, don't bother. I already have. However, I am looking so fingers crossed.
b) There is such a multitude of directions that I need/want to be heading in right now that I am taking the Lorne approach as recorded by Tina Fey- "Sometimes if you have difficult decision to make, just stall until the answer presents itself." You may call me weak but.... you may call me weak. Shuddap! It's my life and I'll waste it if I want to!

Well, despite what you may think, Reason b is already wwooorrrkkingggg! I got a call from LA today from a professional in the field of one of the directions I want to go in..... and I missed the call because I was sleeping in- FOR ONCE IN THIS ENTIRE FRIGGIN MONTH! ugh. But, I called him back and whoooooooo! He would like to work with meeeee! Of course there is a fee. Far steeper than I can manage in the next.. ever. If I could just figure out how this prostitution thing works......

So, one possible answer has presented itself. Lorne is a genius. And I say this though I have never even met/heard of the man!

In other news, I saw Sherlock Holmes 2 last night and it was ok. I think I enjoyed the first one more.  However the entire theater was empty aside from me and my friend so it was kinda fun to sit there talking really loud about the movie during the movie as if that giant screen belonged to one of us...

In other other news, I've been watching speeches on youtube made by some serious people, i.e. Hitler, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Roosevelt, and such... because it has dawned on me that there may actually have been VIDEO back then so that we could actually watch these people make the damn speech we've all heard and read about since grade three!

In really other news. I've just finished Tina Fey's "Bossypants" and I like it. A lot. This woman inspires me to be more ME than I could ever have imagined. Go and read it. [Note: gentlemen, while I am aware that many of you will not, because of many things, i.e. you don't know who she is, you don't like who she is, you don't like women, you think women aren't funny, and such, you all can go suck a fat piece of my dog's turd and continue your lives as the ignorant asshats that you are.]  Thank you Tina.

Books update

I've been reading. Yes I know how, jackass.

Impending doom...

I have a goal to own a motorcycle by the age of 23.  If you didn't know that about me, read previous sentence again and now you do. Welcome to a little slice of my life.

My birthday will be coming up soon and while that leaves me one more year and a couple of months.. the task seems much more daunting now that the deadline is approaching than it did when I first declared it at age 17. How am I going to do it?! Am I going to make it?!

Are you nervous for me, you sweet soul?

Never fear, nameless damsel. I have two things going for me:

1) As the ultimate procrastinator of everything LIFE centered... the closer to the deadline that I begin to freak out, the more certain it is that I'm gonna SCORE! It is my secret recipe for awesome success. Please note: that is "success" spelled with an "awesome"

2) There is an idea that has been shat into my brain some time back and has now fertilized and spawned into being. This idea being... Sugar. Daddy. Why is this a great idea? Because it's like a sport. You go find one somewhere and get them to give you things. Why don't more people do this? It has been passed through a really thick but somewhat trustworthy vine of grapes that the prime location for this hunt is sugarbabies.com.  What's that you say? I'm going to be a sugar baby? Motorcycle in the bag bitches.

Now you may be imagining that I want some crazy ridiculous Harley or some fancy BMW or even a Ducati. No fool. Shut your mouth! Alls I want is a simple toy-bike. Observe:


And, this being a very simple and plain bike, it costs significantly less than said names above. Ah-ha! Dream doesn't seem so unattainable anymore, eh? {sigh} soon enough. Citibank and Fedloan are just gonna have to wait patiently because I'm not paying money for no "higher" education before I get my bike!! Am I right?

If at all you would like to donate to my cause, please feel free to come drop off some money at my house.  Location revealed upon request and screening for psychopathic suspicions.  Thanks!

Love,
SooJangles

Dreams

It's been a while. Too long, I'm sure... but honestly I couldn't really care.... Crazy amount of things have happened and honestly who the hell has time to write about things that are happening... as they are happening?! Yeah. Writers. shit. {note to self: cross "writing" off of "potential careers" list}

Dreams. I have vivid dreams.  Most recent one came a few days ago and may have been induced by excessive consumption of edamame. yummmmmm.

Zombies. Yes, I said it.  I had a dream about zombies.  How did I know they were zombies? Not because they had blood dripping out of their pasty-ass flesh eating lips.  No blood. No pasty lips. Not because they had their arms awkwardly held out in a completely useless and non-functional manner as they limped toward me with one leg dragging. No arms. No limpy leg. Not even grunts or heavy breathing. "What?! no blood, no grunts, no draggy leg?! How did she know??"

I stabbed her in the chest. With an Iron Chef-y kind of knife.  Right through her sunny yellow 50's print empire waisted halter dress in the chesty-heart region. In my terror at realizing I might be sticking a real person, I didn't even notice that the blade went smoothly into the chest as if sinking into a cushion without a drop of blood. I did notice the horrible red lipsticked smile as the zombie looked at her friend standing beside her.

What the hell am I talking about?

The zombies in my dream were 50's women done up with bright red lipstick, perfectly curled and sprayed rock-solid hair, and wide staring thick-mascaraed eyes in summer dresses. And they were made of silicone or something because when I pulled the knife out, the "skin" just moved back together leaving a barely-visible line that I even cut her. No blood. And the worst part?

"So then what do I do? She just tried to stab me!" A little twinge in her left eyebrow is the only sign of consternation to break her stepford smile.
Her friend giggles a bit with a white gloved hand that I'm sure is manicured and tipped. "Well, they all try to do something.  It's just so silly how some struggle as if it will work. So silly, really. And with a knife!"

At this point I am freakin' the fuck out.  Seriously.

But first [insert Tarantino soundtrack] this is not where the dream starts!

But second [cut Tarantino soundtrack] I can't remember what happened before so there is no chronological time shift in the story. {sigh}. [sound of Opportunity wasted].

So I'm freaking out. The knife is in my hand and my brain is whirring a million times faster than... ever. It's whirring so loudly I can't even hear myself think.  How do I kill these bitches?? They don't bleed, they don't feel pain.. are they even- ZOUNDS!!! THEY'RE ZOMBIES!!

(That's how I knew BTW. just like that. by that exact process of discovery.)

Then the friend zombie continues, "Honestly it's better when they don't run. Look at this one. What you want to do is grab her right now because you see how she is going into some kind of shock? She's just standing there. Most of them usually go through this and if you can just-"

I plunge the knife horizontally into this one's throat because:
a) reflex kicked in,
b) her voice was distracting my whirring brain sound,
c) I was terrified to realize that this one was teaching the other one how to kill me, and most importantly
d) don't talk about people like they're not here, bitch. It's rude.

Right?

Apparently, knife in throat = zombie asphyxiation. Sweeet! Her eyes open very wide and there is a gurgling sound. I screw up my face and try to hold the knife steady because even though at the time I have no idea what's happening, I know SOMETHING is happening and it's not good- for her! Score- Me: one ; Rude zombie biatch: zero. BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!

The she-thing then begins to grab at the knife but I press it down into her throat some more and as Thing 2 is going down, Thing 1 is just staring at her friend absently touching her chest where I had stabbed earlier... with that same frozen smile!! Crazy whore, I swear to god! At a point, Ting 2 finally re-dies and slides off my knife. I am in shock. I thought you had to cut off their heads? (yes I thought this in my dream. and yes i remember thinking this in my dream. non-believing skeptical bastard.)

Throat. Stab; cut off air. Rinse, lather, repeat. Got it. I turn and before anything else, I stab into Thing 1. Through the side of her neck though because she's still smile-looking at Thing 2. This time in a fit of dream-world inconsistency, blood gushes everywhere and she starts to take hold of the knife but all of blood is making it slippery for her to push it out. Her eyes glaze over as the breathing slows and BOOM.

ZOMBIE KILLAH IS BORN......

No. Lies. I continue to freak out after she drops and I remember running in a direction with the dreamer's omniscient knowledge that more zombies are coming after me. All with perfect hair and disgustingly toothy smiles.  Then there is a water slide involved.

End dream sequence.