Caroline totally just dissed my assertion that Cillian Murphy is pretty. Whatever, Caroline.

*two minutes later*

Caroline tells me that he is pretty good looking, just not in 28 Days Later. I shall forgive her.

I sit in psychology lecture for an hour and a half (1.5hrs) twice a week for amazing wisdom like this: "A bird in a genetic deme will end up mating with close relatives, like his mother. In the marine corps we had a phrase for that: an incestuous individual." I don't know whether to laugh or shake my head, disgusted. Or both.

Work is dragging along today. I still have over an hour to go, and it feels like I've been here forever. It just flew by last night. I don't understand. Odd, how time works. Although really, I should enjoy the fact that time is going by slowly. It's like Dunbar in Catch 22; he doesn't want to die, so he postpones death by doing the most boring things possible, so that his days are long. It's an interesting philosophy. Anytime my dad and I are stuck somewhere boring like that, complaining, one of us will say, "Hey, Dunbar," and that puts a good perspective on it. I think.

My first assignment in my writing class is an opinion piece on a motion picture. Hee. Wonder what I'll write about?

But why is the evening gone?

Dude. It was seven pm (7pm) and then I turned around, and it's almost midnight. How can the hour and a half of class drag on so achingly long and the five hours of my evening time zips by like a crazed, rabid squirrel?

American Idol is almost painful to watch. You know what, Fox? Watching two or three bad auditions is amusing. Watching a full hour is not. Show us the funny bad ones, and then show us the good people. Okay?

You know what the best reality show is right now? Not "The Apprentice," not "American Idol," not "Survivor" or "Average Joe." Those shows are a bunch of pansies. I bet they cry like little girls every day, over something, because they're just pansies. I bet they can't build big-ass motorcycles from scratch, hand-designed and -crafted. You know why? Because they're not "American Chopper" on the Discovery Channel (see: Watch It, Yo in the side column).

When my dad first asked me to sit down and watch it with him, I was really hesitant. I am by no means a girly girl, and enjoy my fair share of stereotypically male entertainment (comic books, SF, video games, sports), but a show about making choppers? Did sit and watch it, though, and it's great. I have no mechanical intelligence to speak of, so it is pretty cool to see people who have loads of it just, like, build stuff so easily. But what really sets this show apart are the interfamily dynamics; really compelling stuff. I recommend it, yo.

I went to the Arclight cinema in Hollywood with my friend Kim yesterday (ROTK viewings = 4). My ticket cost fourteen dollars ($14). Dude, so worth every single cent. The film was playing in what is apparently a historic dome, with a gigantic curved screen. The seats were freakishly comfortable. The sound system was superb; at points, I could feel the bass literally thudding in my chest. They had ushers show you to your seat (assigned seating is the kickass), and then an usher introduced the movie, with cast, running time, and brief synopsis. They had curtains open and close in front of the screen. What was really surprising to me was the size of the crowd: ROTK has been out over a month, and the theater was at least at a seventy-five (75) percent capacity. And well more than half of those people stayed for the credits. Not just the drawings of the cast. The entirety of the credits. People were quiet, there were no cell phones or crying babies or people getting up and down and up and down and up and down, just a group of people watching a movie. Amazing experience.

I love days off. Yay! No class!