May. 27th, 2007 12:22 pm
janegodzilla: (IT IS A CROWBAR)
I've just come to the startling realization that I really want a pair of cowboy boots.

I...don't really know what to do about that.*

*Other than buy a pair of cowboy boots, I mean. That shit's expensive.
janegodzilla: (bad robot!)
I just spent most of the drive to work lecturing my poor (and oh so tolerant) mother about the influence of Reagan-era "family values" rhetoric to 1980's horror films. I don't even know how I got to that topic in the first place! It...no, wait, yes I do. Conversation mapping time!

Current tv shows --> CSI --> I want the earlier seasons on DVD --> Mom: "Didn't we give you one for Christmas?" --> Me: "No, that was the first season of the X-Files" --> Shared nostalgia over how awesome the X-Files used to be --> Shared nostalgia over the awesomeness of the X-Files movie --> Wasn't Terry O'Quinn (Locke on Lost) the bomb squad guy in the beginning? --> Me: "Yup! He was also the bad guy in Stepfather" --> Mom: "???" --> Me: "*insert entire plot of the film here*" --> Mom: "Wow" --> Me: "Blah blah blah inversion of the traditional 1980's horror structure and defeat instead of triumph of the patriarchy and then vampires the Lost Boys Near Dark family values dorkity DORK DORK DORK"

And then we arrived at my building. XD

In conclusion: Stepfather is a kickass movie, and everyone should see it. THE END.
janegodzilla: (Default)
I snagged the last cheese bagel from the break room.

janegodzilla: (um...)
Actually, it's my mom's car, because I'm borrowing it, but still! Haunted! I'd parked in front of the apartment after doing groceries, and as I turned off the car I heard three rapid knocks, like someone was rapping on one of the side windows. Of course, no one was there. And that might've been the end of it, if not for another three knocks, this time on the other side of the car. Then more from underneath the car.

I have a very active imagination. It made no difference that it was broad daylight and the parking lot was utterly deserted -- I knew there was some crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac with hooks for hands crawling all over the car, just waiting for me to get out so he could, I don't know, sever my Achilles tendons with his scary-ass hook hands and cart me off to steal my kidneys or something. Yes, I know how stupid that sounds. But it wouldn't stop, and I sat in that stupid car for a good seven minutes, quietly freaking out as the knocks (always three, always rapid) moved all over the car, sometimes in the front, sometimes in the back, sometimes underneath. By the time I did exit, I ended up doing it in the most stupid and overdramatic way possible -- flinging open the driver's side door and bolting into the middle of the parking lot (going "nyeeeeuuhuuhuh!" the whole time), where I could safely crouch down and verify that there wasn't a crazed (and perhaps invisible) maniac hiding underneath the car.

Shut up. I know how stupid that is. *facepalms* Because, of course, there was nothing there, and there was nothing left for me to do but gather my groceries from the backseat and hightail it up to the apartment before the knocking could start again.

This stuff never happens to me! Now I have to drive around for a week in a car that's either haunted or equipped with some bizarre and not-so-subtle government tracking device.
janegodzilla: (one of those days)
Why isn't it Friday yet? Bah.

I'm having a stupid emo morning, and knowing that it's for stupid, stupid reasons is just making it worse. I'm such a fucking moron sometimes, I swear. *sighs* Anyway.

Last night's House was singularly horrifying, and I still haven't gotten over the eyeball stuff. Ajdjsbfjd. Eyeballs. Don't get me wrong -- the episode was amazing, really well-written, and it totally made up for last week's OOC-fest -- but I have this...this thing about eyeball trauma, and from the eyeball incident onward I was pretty much a basket case. Spoiler warning, just in case ) I don't know where my eye trauma issues come from. Is that normal? Are other people as terrified and disgusted by it as I am? I can poke around in my own eye just fine, but I can't watch anyone else touch their own...or mine. I think it started when I got glasses. I don't know. I'm always terrified that something will happen where my glasses shatter, and the shards of glass or plastic or whatever it is they make the lenses out of will be driven into my eyes and I'll go blind.

Grah. I'm getting grossed out just thinking about it. *shudders* Please tell me I'm not the only one who tweaks out about the eye thing. :| I don't want to be a freak.


janegodzilla: (Default)

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