I'm a Pilgrim, I'm a Stranger

So, tonight, my friends Emily and McKay had a show at WhySound, and I really wanted to go, obviously. Because they are the best.

http://www.facebook.com/childrenofthenorth

As you can see from the photo at your right, they are also adorable, the bastards.

So anyways, I was at work at the movie theater, trying not to do that thing I do when I don't want to be there (which is pretty much always) where I just sulk and stand by the popcorn machine and have bad posture and text and then get yelled at for texting. Then, right as I'm about to go make a food run at Wendy's (which I still want, btw. In case, I dunno, someone is reading this blog and wants to go get me some Wendy's...please?) my manager did the thing that the manager sometimes does when they want to make me happy, which is ask who wanted to go home.

So with no regard for my other co-workers (because I'm a terrible, terrible person) I volunteered to go home. I know, I know, what a sacrifice. I was pretty nervous that COTN (which is an acronym for Children of the North, in case you didn't catch that) would be done playing, but SURPRISE the show didn't even start until 8, and it was only 7:45, and they were playing second.

And it was INCROYABLE, guys. Seriously. The recordings of "Pilgrim" and "Dirt" that they have up on their FB page are pretty great, but they really don't do them justice. You just gotta be lucky enough to see them perform live, like me (she said, smugly.)

Anyways, loyal reader, check out their facebook, like their page, generally show them some love, and it will be a good day.

Adios.

Chloe Reviews Your Favorite Movie

This week, I will be reviewing your favorite movie, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (I say, as if I usually review movies on this here blogosphere)

So, for the record, I did not want to see this movie, but it was not like when I didn't want to see War Horse and I went into it already pissed off. It was more like when I didn't want to see Warrior. I was pretty sure I wouldn't like it, but I was open-minded enough about it that if it was an Oscar-worthy movie (which apparently it is, the academy) then I would fall in love with it.

However, this movie did not impress me at all. I had been assured by many people (mostly my mom) that it was not going to be an overly emotional, cliched film about 9/11, because the book was more about Oskar's connection to his dad. That is a straight up lie. While the main plot point is that Oskar is trying to find what the key his dad left unlocks, 9/11 was brought up about every 30 seconds, complete with shots of strangers crying as soon as Oskar said "my dad died in the towers."

My second problem with this movie was that the kid in it is the WORST ACTOR EVER. Maybe I'm just spoiled because I've already seen Hugo, which was pretty great, and the kid in it was phenomenal for his age. I know that the character in your favorite movie (this movie that we're discussing) is supposed to have undiagnosed aspbergers, or something, but even that does not excuse the odd way that he chose to accent his words. That was an awkward sentence that I just typed, and it's kind of hard to capture just how odd he sounded when he talked. You'd have to see it to fully understand, but for now, just think of the time that Condaleeza Rice was on 30 Rock, and magnify how bad her acting was by about 50, with many of the same inflections, and you have this kid.

Finally, and I know this wasn't the movie's fault because it was part of the book, I could NOT STOP LAUGHING when Oskar starts carrying around a tambourine to "keep him calm." Having worked a lot with autistic kids, I would think that someone who is supposed to have a form of autism would not choose to carry around a noisemaker as a calming object, simply because a lot of people with autism don't like loud noises (which is why Tess keeps telling me I have autism.) Oskar himself has a huge issue with loud noises that is frequently addressed throughout the movie, and he combats it by...shaking...a tambourine...and making more noise. OK.

So I thought of a couple alternate titles for this movie after I was done watching it and I was in the car with my friend who LOVED it, trying not to say anything 'cause I didn't want to be a dick.

Extremely Long and Incredibly Mediocre

9/11 and Aspbergers Disease: The Saga of one Extremely Annoying Little Kid

I know both my titles suck. I never said I was the best movie namer ever. That's not why I'm in this business (blogging about stuff.) I think the best alternate title was on videogum, which called the movie Extremely 9 and Incredibly 11.

Also, if this movie wins best picture I will freak out.

Final Rating: On a scale of 1 to War Horse (with one being the highest and War Horse being in the negative number area), I'd put this movie somewhere around the TV remake of Pride and Prejudice, From Prada to Nada with that girl that was in Spy Kids. And Camilla Belle.

Posting, you guys.

I like how the title of this post implies that people ever read my posts. It's funny because I have two followers (wow) and I know for a fact that neither of them read this blog. NOTE to Kalie and Ashley: If you read this blog, post in the comments that you read this blog.

So anyways, it's 3:16 in the morning. Tomorrow (today) I have to give a 10 minute presentation in English 2010 (which I thought was going to be a class where I didn't do anything and just thought I was better than everyone else all the time because I'm an English Major, like anyone cares) on an article I definitely didn't read because I keep forgetting to go to the bookstore and pick up my copy of Voices, presumably because my lack of sleep has killed off almost all of my brain cells. Can not sleeping do that? I'd google it, but I don't wanna. You can google it, imaginary reader.

*~*Fun fact: I'm the only person under 40 in my group for English 2010. *~*

I was reading my old blog posts to try and figure out it I'm hilarious. What I did figure out was that for a very long time I was punctuating within/without perentheses (I can't spell that word) very, very wrong...ly. And I thought to myself, I'm so embarassed and then I thought no, I'm not, because no one has ever read this blog. Huzzah!

I feel like I've brought up no one reading my blog a lot. I think that I should stop that now because it makes it seem like a 3:20 a.m. blogger pity party up in hurr.

So yeah. Hmdmdeehm. What else can I talk about? Oh yes. USU (my school, for all of you who want to track me down and murder me) is having their annual creative writing contest, which according to this really cool (douchey) guy from my fiction writing class, is not that great of a contest, or something, and I'm all "shut up, goatee, you haven't been published anywhere else, why not at least enter the contest?" Anywayssssss. I want to enter the contest, but I'm kind of terrified that the judges will read my stories (which I'm not going to tell you about) and then say "hm... this girl should definitely pick another major" or something, and then I will cry (probably) and eat ice cream (definitely, without question.)

So have you guys ever heard of that book/philosophy called "the secret" where if you tell the universe what you want (oy) then the universe is all "oh yeah, I totally think you should have that" (in my head the universe is played by a pot head actor. I can't think of one other than Woody Harrelson right now, but it's not Woody Harrelson in my head, it's more like Paul Rudd in Our Idiot Brother. But just that character, not Paul Rudd overall.) So I'm going to the secret that I do super great in the creative writing contest, become J.K. Rowling (or just her equivalent, I'm not super picky, universe) and then I get to retire and make a billion dollars a second, or however much she makes. A lot? I'm guessing a lot. I would write how I think that asking the universe for something is stupid and it totes doesn't work because I've tried it before, but the best part of the whole the secret philosophy is that "if you doubt the secret, ever, the secret says well nevermind, this person is a doubter. Then you don't get what you want." -Kalie Cunningham. So I won't say that.

KSO. Now it's...3:30 in the morning. So I'm gonna go to bed now, internet. But ya know...thanks for Anne Franking with me. Is that in poor taste? Eh, whatever.

43 Things

I don't know if any of you have ever been on the website 43things.com, but when I was in high school I found it to be pretty legit. I completely forgot about it until today when I got an email from the website asking me if I had been on Broadway yet, to which I replied "no" (not literally, just in my head) and then I proceeded to feel like I had not accomplished much in my 20 years on this planet.
So finally I finished with being sad (this did not take long) and I got back on my old 43things account to see what else I had not accomplished (and what I had). It was pretty funny to see the things that I wanted to do in high school...
Here's a list of the things I'd accomplished on my list (you can switch things out or add things once you accomplish something on your list)
1. Be certified in CPR
2. Make my own clothing
3. Audition for American Idol
4. Meet William Beckett
5. Get a cell phone (sad)
6. Get my lip pierced (stupid)
7. Step out of my comfort zone
8. Take voice lessons
9. Learn to snowboard
10. Meet The Hush Sound
11. Be in a band
12. Meet Tysen Ritter

So yeah... obviously my priorities have changed around a little bit since I was 15 and really into the bands put out by Fueled by Ramen.

Some things that I have not accomplished yet:

1. Bunjee jump
2. Learn to play drums
3. Write a novel
4. Stop procrastinating (hahaha)
5. See the Northern Lights
6. Learn to tango
7. Go white water rafting
8. Learn to surf
9. Write a screenplay
10. Speak French fluently

I will keep you, my non existant readers, posted on the status of these items, as well as any new items. How exciting is that?

Stuff n Nonsense

At work I invented a hypothetical indie band with Tess.

We are called Metaphorical Falls and we sing with a John Darnielle voice.

We have a song called "Breeze".

And we say a lot of things like "Metaphorical Falls is about the way that the world can speak to you in the colors of music."

And I get paid to do this.

Sunburns

Every summer (or any time I'm outside for more than 20 minutes, but we're just going to say summer so I don't cry), I get a "hilarious" sunburn. It doesn't matter that any time I think I may be exposed to direct sunlight I slather myself in 75+ SPF and put on long sleeves, the sun finds me and goes to town.
All this would be well and good if I would just do an allover sunburn that might eventually leave the residue pale-person tan that is really more red than brown but provides some color so pale people (like myself) rock it with pride. But my sunburns are tricky little minxes. Today, I am wearing the classic one-half-of-my-body sunburn. I was outside in a t-shirt and shorts today with all of my skin equally exposed to the sun. Somehow, only my left leg above the knee and right arm got sunburned. I don't understand why my body wants me to be ostracized from polite, tan society.
Another interesting sunburn fact that no one wants to know about me is that my shoulders are completely impervious to sun. I have intentionally let them stay out in the sun to try and get rid of the farmer burn that will inevitably last me for the rest of the school year, but no matter what I do, nothing happens to them. I am perpetually wearing little white cap sleeves.
If anyone knows of a cure for my sunburned woes, please send me a letter or something.

Montpelier Chronicles Part 1

So I've been in Montpelier for a couple of weeks. I don't know if any of you have ever been to Montpelier, but it has a population of about 2,000 people, all of whom (it seems) have dyed their hair blonde AND black a la my middle school days. I didn't know people still did that, but they do.
Anyway, started my new job at BLH enterprises. For the life of me I don't know how I got this job, as the interview went something like this:
Me: Hi, sorry I'm late.
My Boss: Can you drive a stick shift?
Me: No, but I can ask Tess to teach me.
My Boss: You have the job.
I am grossly underqualified, but somehow have managed not to kill myself and/or others or damage any property with the tractor. I do, however, have to fully stand up and stamp on the clutch to get anything done, so it's only a matter of time before one of those weird little lurchy things gets me thousands of dollars in the hole and my boss punches me in the face. The only thing that keeps me from being paralyzed with fear is the fact that the boys who I work with who give me SO MUCH CRAP for being scared to run the tractor are not very good at working the tractor either. As in not any better than me. So take that, fish gut covered hoodie guys. Stop putting fish in my best friend's purse, or else (this warning is pretty impotent, but whatever).
Besides learning to drive a tractor, I have also learned that there are places in the U.S. where businesses close earlier than they do in Logan. I tried to go to ALCO at 8 to buy some salsa and I was turned away by a guy vacuuming the halls.
Oh, and I saw a bearded lady at Broulims wearing eyeliner and six earrings up each ear.