Somehow, I managed to forget (FORGET) to submit my final exam for my politics class. It was a take-home test, and the soft copy was due by email last Tuesday, but she gave us until yesterday to submit a hard copy. Even though I was downtown yesterday, it took me until 8:00 p.m. last night to realize my error. I raced downtown this morning to hand it in (even though the syllabus states that she won't mark the exam if the hard copy is received past the 21st) and sent my professor two emails begging her to take pity on me.
On a scale of one to ten, how fucked am I?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
#*&@*&T!
My stepdad is remodeling the downstairs bathroom, which coincidentally is the only bathroom with a shower, and my hair is too long to wash in the tub, so as a result I haven't showered in three days.
As you can imagine, I smell really good.
We're in Canada, bro
Today, at work, as I was walking towards one of my tables to check on them, the guy felt the need to hold up his empty pop glass and shake it, just in case I was too stupid to notice that he needed a refill (or in case he, for some reason, thought that even though I was walking directly towards him and making eye contact, I was going to ignore his needs).
I figure, maybe this guy is really thirsty, and can justify being incredibly rude.
Then he did it again and I almost punched him.
I've decided this: If ever I get a customer that snaps his fingers at me to get my attention, I will quit my job, only so I can dump a pitcher of Pepsi (or hot oil, depending) on the dude without getting fired. I wholeheartedly believe that putting the dude in his place will be worth losing my job.
I'm sure every server ever will agree.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Will you marry me?
I am in love with John Cusack. I'll just say it. I fell in love with Lloyd Dobbler, and then with Martin Blank and Rob Gordon just sealed the deal. As far as I'm concered, John Cusack doesn't get older, he just gets more bad ass. His most recent film, War, Inc. just proves it.
When I was sleepily driving to school yesterday, I heard John's voice on the Edge and I got tingles just at the mere thought that he might be in Toronto. Though logic told me that 1) this was probably a phone interview and 2) if it was live, John would probably be on his way back to somewhere cool by the time I got to the city.
An hour later, I was walking through the RCC and nearly had a heart attack when I saw a sign advertising that John Cusack would be visiting Ryerson - my school - today and screening his new film. John Cusack was in Toronto, and he was coming to see me. I fearlessly told my teacher that I would be leaving class early because I had to see John speak. I am quite certain I would have died if I missed the opportunity. The Gods would strike lightning bolts around me as punishment for being so stupid as to miss an opportunity to be in the same room as the real-life Rob Gordon.
Throughout the day, I has visions of waiting for the theatre to open, reading some Chuck Klosterman on a bench outside the door when John nonchalantly sits next to me. There were many different conversation variants in the fantasy, but the end result was always the same. Love.
Back to reality. War, Inc. is one of the most brilliantly written films I have seen in a while (I decided this, for the record, before I learned that Cusack co-wrote it) The film, a political satire that encompasses all the best aspects of Cusack's best movies (the hit man, the fiery female lead, the sexually-promiscuous pop star, the lack of morals that, in turn, present a shockingly moral argument) shows an absurd view of what the Middle East might turn into in a few years: military outsources to private companies and literal and metaphorical devastation and destruction.
After the film, we wait patiently for John to reach the school and tell us about his brilliant film. We discuss what extravagant entrance he might make, and the possibility that he might be in the room in disguise. Brand Hausen, his War, Inc. character, can kill a group of armed thugs with his bare hands, so there's no limit to how ridiculously bad ass John Cusack can be in our eyes. He also sells his parts so well that it's altogether impossible to separate the actor from the character. In fact, I'm quite certain that Brand Hausen is just a grown up Martin Blank, (and Rob Gordon is a grown up Lloyd Dobbler.)
When he finally arrives (he just walks in, wearing blue jeans and a black jacket, like it's no big deal) and settles in next to writer, Mark Leyner. John tries to calmly rail against the Iraq war, but amidst the pleasantries, he lets slip a, "Fox News can go fuck themselves," and the whole crowd erupts in applause and cat-calls. He apologizes to the host for his brashness, but it's clear that he doesn't mean it.
It doesn't get hotter than that.
When I was sleepily driving to school yesterday, I heard John's voice on the Edge and I got tingles just at the mere thought that he might be in Toronto. Though logic told me that 1) this was probably a phone interview and 2) if it was live, John would probably be on his way back to somewhere cool by the time I got to the city.
An hour later, I was walking through the RCC and nearly had a heart attack when I saw a sign advertising that John Cusack would be visiting Ryerson - my school - today and screening his new film. John Cusack was in Toronto, and he was coming to see me. I fearlessly told my teacher that I would be leaving class early because I had to see John speak. I am quite certain I would have died if I missed the opportunity. The Gods would strike lightning bolts around me as punishment for being so stupid as to miss an opportunity to be in the same room as the real-life Rob Gordon.
Throughout the day, I has visions of waiting for the theatre to open, reading some Chuck Klosterman on a bench outside the door when John nonchalantly sits next to me. There were many different conversation variants in the fantasy, but the end result was always the same. Love.
Back to reality. War, Inc. is one of the most brilliantly written films I have seen in a while (I decided this, for the record, before I learned that Cusack co-wrote it) The film, a political satire that encompasses all the best aspects of Cusack's best movies (the hit man, the fiery female lead, the sexually-promiscuous pop star, the lack of morals that, in turn, present a shockingly moral argument) shows an absurd view of what the Middle East might turn into in a few years: military outsources to private companies and literal and metaphorical devastation and destruction.
After the film, we wait patiently for John to reach the school and tell us about his brilliant film. We discuss what extravagant entrance he might make, and the possibility that he might be in the room in disguise. Brand Hausen, his War, Inc. character, can kill a group of armed thugs with his bare hands, so there's no limit to how ridiculously bad ass John Cusack can be in our eyes. He also sells his parts so well that it's altogether impossible to separate the actor from the character. In fact, I'm quite certain that Brand Hausen is just a grown up Martin Blank, (and Rob Gordon is a grown up Lloyd Dobbler.)
When he finally arrives (he just walks in, wearing blue jeans and a black jacket, like it's no big deal) and settles in next to writer, Mark Leyner. John tries to calmly rail against the Iraq war, but amidst the pleasantries, he lets slip a, "Fox News can go fuck themselves," and the whole crowd erupts in applause and cat-calls. He apologizes to the host for his brashness, but it's clear that he doesn't mean it.
It doesn't get hotter than that.
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