breakdown of logic

Lauren came across this video online, and it’s just…incredible. First of all, it doesn’t make any sense at all. The guy’s thought process is just ridiculous. I’m really not sure how or when he loses it, but it’s somewhere in all the pissething. Watch, my friend, and be amazed. If you want to make a useless attempt to follow along with him, check out these verses as well.

two hours I’ll never get back

I’ve been teaching an American Culture class this semester, which has been really fun so far. We’re going through the decades, from the 1950s to today, talking about the hot political topics of the time, the fashions and fads, the music, the movies, etc. It’s been pretty heavy at times and pretty dry at others, but for the most part, I’ve really enjoyed it, and I think the students have too. Well, we’re up to the 70s, and I was thinking of showing Saturday Night Fever in class tomorrow because, you know, it’s all iconic and whatnot, but having never seen it, I thought it would probably be a good idea to preview it before subjecting a class to it. And man oh man, am I glad I did. I’m also kind of regretting it at the same time because seriously…it’s awful.

There are a couple of dancing scenes that I think are worthwhile, but whew. The rest. I just can’t even tell you how terrible it is. There’s absolutely nothing redeeming about it. To be fair, I wasn’t around in 1977, so I don’t know. Maybe it was a groundbreaking piece of cinema, but I doubt it. As far as I can tell, it introduced disco to the masses and offended even the least delicate of sensibilities in every other way. The acting’s not great, the story is pretty vacant, the language is unnecessarily crass, and there’s sort of a gang-bang scene toward the end right before what’s-his-head falls off the Verrazano-Narrows bridge. Nothing about it is realistic, including how unbelievably jerky the guys are, and even that’s pretty hard to imagine. I want to say that that, at least, is a vote of confidence in the human race, but then again, I have to think that there was some sort of inspiration for the creation of those characters, so I find my opinion, once again, bottomed out.

So needless to say, I shan’t be showing SNF in class tomorrow. I may show the couple of good dance scenes, but I think after that, we’re going to watch The Muppet Movie. Clean, classic, witty fun for the whole family. And such amazing gags as “the fork in the road” and the “myth, MYTH” (”Yeeeeeeeth?”). Oh I love it! It’s settled.

Reunion Pictures!! Round One (maybe of only one, but we’ll see)

These are going to be all out of order because I didn’t have enough foresight to upload them in the right order, and I don’t have the give-a-crap right now to rearrange them.  Here we have Emily, Wes and Lizzy on Saturday night. Precious.

Jessica, Emily and Jennifer on Friday night. I tell you what - this is a good-looking group of ladies right here.

And speaking of good-lookin’ ladies, check these two out. Emily took this picture wanting to get the bluegrass band in the background, but I think she was also hoping to get a clear shot of the topless gentleman who later asked me to dance. He’s in there, but you can’t really see him. I saw him, though. Up close and dance-able, and believe me. It was not pretty.

Besu and Wesu, reunited after eight years or so. Man, I love this kid.

And whilst we’re on the subject of kids I love, Emily and Jim. Heart.

Although the whole gang was not present, those of us who were got together for a photo. Along with Carrie, Katie, Jeani, Jim, Alan and a host of others, these were the people I spent most of my time with in high school. They were basically my extended family. Pictured here are Emily, yours truly, Lizzy, Julie and Wes. To those of you who weren’t there, we missed you. And we hope you can make it to the 20-year reunion.

LOVE love.

Special thanks to Emily Hogan for the photos. Apparently she didn’t take any of the future Mr. and Mrs. Matt Hagaman, but just as soon as I get some, I’ll put them up. I know that many of you are Matt-curious. And the INSTANT that video footage of the dancing hits YouTube, believe you me, you will be notified.

Reunited, and it feels so good!

I realized as I was headed out of town on Friday that I had, both tragically and classically, forgotten my camera, so I don’t have any reunion photos for you just yet. However, there were several cameras there, which means that sooner or later (hopefully sooner), facebook will abound with memories of the weekend, and when that day comes, I shall save them as… and share them with you. But only if I look cute in them. But seriously, who are we kidding? OBviously, I will look cute in all of them. I’m cute. That’s how I roll.

ANYhoe, the ten-year reunion of the Wilkes Central class of ‘98 was a weekend-long event. It started Friday night with drinks at “The Lounge” above Dooley’s bar in Wilkesboro. Yes, Dooley’s. Dooley, for those of you who don’t know, is the name of Whitney’s dog. We have long suspected that he was up to something like this, but Wilkesboro - that’s quite a commute. I guess some of those night classes* he took were business-related. And this explains why he sleeps all day every day. I just want to know whose car he’s driving back and forth with gas prices being what they are. If it’s mine, I expect him to chip in for maintenance and top off the tank.

Upon my arrival at Dooley’s, I saw at least ten people I’d been missing for some time and at least ten more I hadn’t really thought much about at all since 1998 but was ecstatic to see nonetheless. And then every time someone new would walk in, we’d all just look and think or say out loud, “Holy crap.” We just could not believe that they’d actually shown up. So we chatted and hung out and posed for pictures and caught up until I was about to fall over from exhaustion, and around 1:30, I staggered back to the lovely Michelle’s house, where I was staying (thanks Chelle!!). By that point, my expectations had already been exceeded, and we still had another full day of reunion fun ahead of us!

We slept in on Saturday, took our time getting ready, and rolled on over to the Apple Festival around noon. I got a caramel apple sample from Coach Tommy Johnson, who I’m pretty sure had NO idea who I was. We ran into Susan and Emily at some point and walked around with them until Susan left. Then Michelle, Emily and I wandered down the street just a bit more until we decided that it was entirely too hot and crowded to stay out there when we’d pretty much seen everything there was to see already.

Michelle went over to her parents’ house for a while, and I went to help set up for Saturday night’s festivities. Then I came back to discover that there was nary a full-length mirror in Michelle’s house. I called Emily, who saved the day by coming over to tell me what looked good together (since I couldn’t see my outfits as a whole). We both got ready and headed over to Roni’s Italian Restaurant.

Our excitement grew as we approached the restaurant and saw all the cars parked outside. We were fashionably late, so several reunion-goers had already arrived and were inside awaiting our grand entrance (ok, maybe they weren’t so much awaiting our entrance as just hanging out, but still…). It was a different crowd from the one on Friday night. There was some overlap, but there were several people who were there on Friday but not on Saturday and vice versa. In all, I think we probably saw 60-70 people from our class including (but by no means limited to):

• Julie Gilstrap, who came from Scotland. I hadn’t seen her, I don’t think, since I was in Edinburgh in 2004, althought we’ve kept in touch pretty well via facebook (thanks facebook!).
• Lee Spears, who came from frickin’ CHINA even though he didn’t actually graduate with us (he was whisked away to the School of Science and Math after sophomore year). I thought it was very cool of him to come.
• John Bowman, who also left us for the greener pastures of Science and Math, but who was also very cool to come back for our reunion.
• Matt Hagaman. And his fiancée (sniff sniff). The rumors were true. And alas, she seems lovely, so we didn’t feel it was appropriate to take her out back and deal with her. I guess we’ll just let her marry him and wish them all the happiness in the world.
• Sam Graham. Oh internet, if you only knew.
• The lovely Mrs. Emily Hogan, who was voted “most changed since high school,” although we’re really not sure why. She did get a haircut, but other than that, I don’t know that I see a whole lot of difference there. My hair is much shorter now than it was back then, and I didn’t get any votes in that category. What up with that, class of ‘98?
• Brandie Huffman, who was voted “least changed since high school” (evidenced by her name tag, which read “GO EAGLES!!” below her name), and of whom I hope to see video footage very soon. Not many people danced, but really, that was fine. She did enough for all of us.
• My buddy Wes, who lives with his wife probably twenty minutes away from me. I hadn’t seen them in probably eight years. Shame on us. We must repent of such long absences.

There were plenty more, but since most of y’all are bored because you don’t know these people, I’ll stop there. I skipped the picnic at the lake on Sunday afternoon because I had to get back to Raleigh, but before I left, I had brunch with Jim at the Coffee House, which seems to have recovered nicely from when that van drove into it a while back. I highly doubt anyone has ever called a meal at the Coffee House “brunch” before as it is essentially a generic version of the Waffle House. Oh so swanky. But brunch with Jim is lovely by definition even when the meal comprises hash browns and waffles with a strawberry-flavored fruitish topping.

I can’t believe it’s come and gone so fast. We have literally been excited about this reunion for the past five years, and just like that, it’s over. It was good times, though, I must say. Good times indeed. Mediocre food, perhaps, but the company would be near impossible to beat. I tell ya - it’s going to be hard to elope when the time comes and not invite some of those old friends to celebrate my wedding. We’ll have to have some killer parties all over the country to make up for it. Perhaps even all over the world. Yeah, I can handle that.

(*Whitney dreamed once that Dooley started speaking, and when asked how he learned English, he replied very matter-of-factly, “I took night classes.” )

and I call myself an educational professional

Well, I did slightly better on my Hannah Montana quiz than Lauren, Whitney and I did on our Jonas Brothers quiz. But still, I’m pretty sure all chances of getting myself or my children into an Ivy League school are now out the window. If only I’d applied myself more. Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. I’ve let you down.

Hannah Montana Quiz!

60% (9 out of 15 Questions Correct)

Fun quizzes, surveys & blog quizzes by

I have quite a bit of random food in the fridge/freezer that I’m determined to eat before I buy any more. I’d like to do this for two reasons: I don’t want it to go to waste. And I’m poor this month. So let’s see how long I can go without buying food, shall we? I don’t think it’ll be that long, but…

Dear Roommates,

Don’t let me buy any food until I’ve eaten what I have. K thx bai.

You have 5 months to practice.

Friends, my birthday is coming up in about five months, which means you need to get to a cake decorating class now if you want to be able to produce anything anywhere NEAR this beautiful by March 6. Ladies and gentlemen, BEHOLD!

the results are in

Well, I just checked the 2008 “A Christmas Carol” cast list, and it appears as though I will not BE APPEARING ON STAGE THIS HOLIDAY SEASON!!!!!!! I have never seen it before, but I’m told it’s quite a fun little show, so everyone get your tickets right away, so you can not SEE ME PERFORMING LIVE!!!! This is really just a test to see who reads and who just skims. Was anyone duped by my deceptive caps locking and bolding?

I don’t really have much else to say about it. I am neither surprised nor disappointed. It would have been fun, but I have plenty of other things going on in my life. For instance, right now, I’m going to watch Arrested Development and eat Oreos. See? I’m super-busy. (Actually, I am pretty busy, but it’s Friday, and I’m tired. Don’t judge.)

an open letter to Ira David Wood III

Dear Ira David Wood III,

Did I get it right? I can never remember if it’s Ira David or David Ira, and last night at the audition, when you introduced yourself as David Wood, well that just threw me off completely. I do apologize about never getting your name right. That must be frustrating for you. My name’s Elizabeth Claire. I think it rolls off the tongue easier than Claire Elizabeth, but that’s probably just because it’s always been my name. I have a friend named Claire Elizabeth, and she probably thinks that’s easy to remember. So if you can’t ever remember the order, that’s ok. I can’t get yours straight either. Just call me Beth anyway. That’s what everybody else calls me. Except for my students, who call me “Teacher.” That’s it. Not “Teacher Beth,” not “Ms. Beth,” just “Teacher.” Weird, huh? I’ve always thought so.

So Beth will do because I don’t have a stage or professional name. Probably because I’ve never been professionally on stage. I was in a really low-budget high school play back in ‘98 called “Ducktails and Bobbysocks.” If you Google it, you’ll get a bunch of really low-budget elementary and middle school performance announcements, and honestly, I’m surprised anyone else has done the thing. I found a woman on YouTube playing and singing all the songs. This was my big song with my buddy Alan (I think you know him. He played Nephew Fred for you.) when I played “Bertha,” the “awkward girl” to his “Wilbur,” the “awkward boy.” Just give that a listen and tell me you’re not absolutely drooling to have an artist of my caliber in your Christmas show. Hoo-boy.

Anyway, I was really nervous last night, and I know my audition consisted largely of me standing there like the fire tower my sisters and I for some reason identified as “Medoc” throughout our childhood when we passed it on our way to Enfield to visit our grandparents. But I promise you, Ira David Wood III, if you let me play in your show, I will not stand there with my hand in my pocket (unless expressly directed to do so). I will sing and dance and be a fountain of joviality and delight (unless expressly directed to do otherwise).

If you’re concerned with the quality of my singing or that I’m too self-conscious and nervous to put on a show, I invite you to come to my class any weekday between 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., where there is a daily performance. Sometimes it’s even an exhilarating grammar performance (take a moment to compose yourself after that thought). Or we can go for a ride, and I’ll do a little “So Much Better” for you. I think you’ll like it. The girl on my CD has three names too.

Let me know what you think, Ira David Wood III.

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Claire Parent

focus group much?

I was at Borders this evening with my new buddy Jen, and as we were leaving, we wandered into the magazine section. I stopped to marvel at the airbrushing that was once Daniel Radcliffe, and then two other magazines caught our attention. First, there was Esquire’s E-Ink panel on their cover, which looks like it’s sort of blinking, and at first, you think it’s some sort of hologram, but then you realize that it changes even when it’s not (and you’re not) moving. Very cool. And we stood there for a full minute or two looking behind it and poking at it and trying to figure out where the ‘lectricity was, and I’m certain that we looked a lot like Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson in that scene from Zoolander when they’re trying to get at the files that are “in the computer.” Then Jen mused about how decades from now, when that sort of technology is passé, we’ll think back on that moment and laugh at how far we’ve come.

Then I noticed what I thought was an odd cover featuring Barack Obama in an airplane seat. It was just a strange setting to me for a magazine cover, but even stranger was the magazine itself. It was Vogue. But part of the cover text, I thought, was overlapping the magazine title, which happens sometimes. You know, we know what the magazine is. We don’t have to be able to read the whole title. It always looks the same anyway, and the features are more important.

But I was wrong, buddies. I was so so wrong. It was not a feature teaser covering Vogue’s title. It was a part of the title itself. Yes, I was looking at Men’s Vogue.

I did not know that such a thing existed, and then it occurred to me: Who is reading Men’s Vogue? Do men want to have anything to do with Vogue? Are men en vogue? Were men jealous that only the women got to waste money and time coveting the lives and possessions of those more rich, powerful and beautiful?

Yeah, I didn’t think so. Read this instead. It won’t make you a better person, but you’ll laugh and not feel bad about yourself.

I can’t go on.

I spent the afternoon planning lessons by watching TV. Well, first I finished watching The Big Lebowski (see my very brief review via Twitter) so that I could take it back and get I Love Lucy, which I need for class tomorrow. Then I had to watch Lucy so that I could write some comprehension questions for the students to answer while they watch. Then I watched snippets of My Fair Lady, trying to decide whether or not I wanted to use it tomorrow as well. I probably should at least have it ready just in case I have extra time. It’s a tough life, I tell ya. Then I went out to dinner. I mean, I just do not know if I can handle too many more days like this. The stress is just overwhelming.

Sigh. Back to the grind. I’d better go make my copies for tomorrow if I want to be in bed by 10.  Which I do.