Blah blah blah fishcakes. That about sums up the past few days for me. Homework, and meetings, and class, and I've reached that point, that strange, arbitrary point, where my semester and the routine and everything just becomes so monotonous that I cannot stand it anymore. But then Turkey Day Weekend comes round the corner, and the balance is restored.

And this is why I want to be a filmmaker, because each day is different. I could not deal with a 9-5; the sameness and routine would kill me. Kill me dead! Dead like that parrot! That dead Monty Python parrot! And the shopkeeper would try to sell me, and one day he would succeed, but then the Monty Python guy would realize that I was dead, and bring me back, and they'd argue. Because I was pushing up daisies, see? Which are my favorite flower, so that's cool. But you never see daisies in a flower shop; just roses and stuff, which are usually really expensive. Why are they so expensive? I think it's price gouging; they know guys who had a big fight with their girlfriend or wife will pay anything to make it all better, because that's easier than, like, having an actual conversation or something. Speaking of guys, Caroline and I watched "Average Joe" tonight, which was a cool show. I'm totally down with the concept, because unlike most other dating shows, these guys seem genuinely fun and cool, for the most part. Except for this Indian guy, who was totally weird. He was all, "Do you like brocolli? I don't like peas. I'm not fond of green food." Wha? It was completely strange. And then she didn't get rid of him! But Caroline spots at the end that decisions were made after consultation with the producers, so they probably told her to keep him because he's weird, and thus entertaining TV. Whatever. Producers are stupid. I mean, I know they have a responsibility to try and market the show and make it interesting, but still. These shows really only work if you buy into them as "reality," and if it's clear that everything is being orchestrated behind the scenes, the illusion is lost.

Stream of consciousness! Yay! (I typed that all in one continuous five minute setting. Whee!)