The Battle of the Century...Apparently

Mean Girls. The epic comedy about high school. It's got a relatable main character (relatable for everyone, not just girls in high school), a quality plot, comedic prowess, great acting (especially from the often overlooked Tim Meadows), and a great message to take away from it. As I was watching it last night in preparation for this post, I was trying to find something I didn't like in it or didn't agree with. But I couldn't. That happens, but rarely. Even the current favorite film of most people, The Grey, I had a few issues with. But Mean Girls rises above the classic “chick flick.” It does more for women that the current holy-crap-women-are-people-too-movie Bridesmaids. I'll get to Bridesmaids in a minute.

So why is Mean Girls so wonderful? I think the fact that the message it puts forth is so relatable by everyone is what really makes me love it. Everyone has been through high school and had to deal with cliques. It's not fun. The main character is relatable too. She's not loved because she's pretty but because she's smart. We root for her because she's just trying to be liked and fit in, and that's what we have to do every single day of our lives.

This movie is so fetch.

While initially the plastics seem to back the stereotype of women being able to get by on their looks, it's the complete opposite. No one can watch that movie and relate to the plastics. We all get that feeling of sick satisfaction when Regina gets hit by a bus. The relationship between the plastics and Cady, and the ultimate result of the plastics breaking up and Regina no longer being an ultrabitch, is used to show that acting dumb and just getting by on looks is not the way to do it.

This movie is the opposite of the quintessential chick flick. It's not about the geeky girl taking her glasses off, wearing her hair down, and then getting the hot guy and living happily ever after. Cady take that role but only to infiltrate and destroy the plastics. It's an action/spy movie set in high school!

And here's the point I talk about Tina Fey. Put aside the fact that I am totally in love with her (just like every other person on the planet). Her character in this movie is amazing. She's like a philosophical master. She really doesn't have a ridiculous amount of screen time, but when she gets it, she uses it for good. She's the mentor. She's a strong and successful woman who's life seems like a mess. But she is profound. She says shit like “I know having a boyfriend might seem like the only thing important to you right now, but you don't have to dumb yourself down in order for a guy to like you.” Bam! That could have been the entire movie right there.

Well this has been sufficiently awkward.

So this entire post came about because I got in an argument about Bridesmaids, which seems to be everyone's go-to movie when talking about the wonderful things women have accomplished and blah blah blah. The guy I was arguing with was adamant that this movie is “an unabashed flexing of women's comedic and filmic talents that, even more so than Mean Girls, demonstrates the equal yet all-too-often undersold competency of women as lead actors and writers to the public.” First, does anyone else think it's weird that a man so often argues against women about what movies do for the societal standards of women? Shouldn't we know better? No? It's just me? Okay. It's not just against me, either. I've seen him argue against other women about this very movie. And he never listens to our points and never seems to really take into consideration that he doesn't really know what he's talking about. Anyway, that's a totally different topic. It's just something that really annoys me.

That quote is a direct quote from this argument that inspired this post. First, I don't really think the question of whether women can be lead actors and awesome writers is that relevant anymore. Women have had starring roles in pretty much every type of movie I can think of. Of course the romantic comedies are largely dominated by female leads, but action movies have been relying on women in increasing number (Kill Bill, Salt, Resident Evil, Underworld, etc). Most of those examples are from the early 2000's. And I could definitely name more. So it's not like the “competency of women as lead actors” is really in question anymore. It's not just action movies either. Horror, comedy, coming-of-age dramas, epic historical dramas (Gone With The Wind FTW), fantasy. They've all had high-grossing movies with competent, well-acted female leading roles.

And women screenwriters? Did you know a woman wrote and directed American Psycho? Because one did: Mary Harron. (And if you haven't seen that movie, go watch it. I tried really really hard to find a video of one of my favorite scenes from the movie I could embed, but I couldn't find one so just click this link instead and marvel that a woman wrote this.) Other big names (screenwriters and directors): Julie Taymor (Frida, Across the Universe), Betty Thomas (The Brady Bunch Movie [awesome], Doctor Dolittle, 28 Days), Penny Marshall (she played Laverne in Laverne and Shirley and then went on to direct Big [which was co-written by Anne Spielberg, Steven Spielberg's sister]), Nancy Meyers (she both wrote and directed The Parent Trap, What Women Want, Something's Gotta Give), Nora Ephron (When Harry Met Sally [my favorite romantic comedy of all time] she also wrote and directed Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, Julie and Julia). And do I even need to mention Sophia Coppola? She wrote and directed the masterpiece Lost in Translation. She also wrote and directed Marie Antoinette which was actually a pretty decent movie. I guess I should mention Diablo Cody too simply because Juno was such a big hit.

Just add Zooey Deschanel to make this movie the ultimate hipster wet dream.

The competency of women as writers and actors in film was not in question until Bridesmaids came out and then suddenly it was all okay and women were real people. Women have been a huge influence in film for a very long time. I did leave Tina Fey off that list but simply because we all know how amazing she is. She was the first female head-writer for SNL, she's the head-writer and star of 30 Rock. Oh and she did the screenplay for Mean Girls. So all this nonsense of making such a big fuss about Bridesmaids like it was the first comedy written by a woman is insane.

Bridesmaids isn't even a really great movie. It was entertaining but the main character is not relatable. She's portrayed as insecure and insane. The screenplay was unoriginal. If you replace the female leads with men, it would be just like the I Love You, Man types of movies.

The message of Bridesmaids? Don't go insane when your best friend is getting married? The pacing is rough, the comedy is lowbrow. The movie is simply about what's going on in a woman's life. You can't invert the gender and it would still make sense. No one would believe that a guy would go that crazy when his best friend was getting married. But everyone believes it when a woman does it (furthering the stereotype that women are crazy).

So I guess what all this is saying is that making such a big deal about Bridesmaids is nonsense. Mean Girls is worthy of that big deal because it's a far superior movie. I'll leave you with some words that were said during the argument: “A great movie has a solid plot and doesn't seem drawn out. Bridesmaids very much feels drawn out. There are a few scenes in the film that serve no purpose to the story or character development. That's a pretty big sin for a great movie. Turn on Fight Club, turn on The Dark Knight: every scene in those films are completely necessary to the work as a whole. Also, it breaks a vital rule of comedies: make the audience root for the protagonist. Wiig's character goes all irrational (rejects her friend, her love interest, and her job) with the realization at the end is that she was being irrational, I guess? Sorry, but when a character makes me dislike them, seeing them rewarded at the end with all their wishes coming true is not satisfying to me, thus the story failed.” Thanks Mike. You pretty much summed it up.

Syd

I Made A Rage Comic

Another Short Story

I don't love this man sitting across from me. I don't really care for him at all. I'm just using him for sex, just using him so I'm not alone. He doesn't know that, obviously. I should probably feel bad about it, but I don't. He wants to date me. He texts me all the time. He won't leave me alone. We see each other so often. I don't care I'm leading him on. I'm a heartless bitch.

One night we were cuddling in bed, he asked me if we were officially dating. I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't tell him the truth. So I said I didn't know. He was silent for a while, then said he was sorry. He said he thought I liked him. I told him I did like him. I don't know why I kept lying to him especially when I always told him not to lie to me. I told him I didn't want to rush into anything. I told him I wanted to get to know him better, then I'd want to date. Still lying; I need to stop. But I can't because I'm a coward.

We went on dates. We hung out all the time. But we still weren't dating. We ate together, played games together. We watched movies and cuddled. But we still weren't dating. And then I guess one night he had finally had enough. He was acting weird. He wanted to have sex but I was tired from work. At least that's what I said. It's not like my job is that difficult. I just stand and scoop ice cream for a few hours a few nights a week. I guess I was just tired of him. He started questioning me about our situation again. I told him I thought he was in this for a different reason. It was fun, but it was time to end it. He said he was in it because he cared about me and was hoping, like I said, I would one day date him. I told him we'd never be anything more than friends. He got up and left. I guess I should have felt bad, but I didn't. I didn't really care.

The next weekend we talked about it again. He cried. I didn't show any emotion at all. I just didn't care. I was never in it for him, just for myself. I didn't care about him. He kept asking why I acted like I had feelings for him when I really didn't. Time to lie again. I told him I like him but there was a disconnect when I thought about dating him. That was a horrible lie. I either need to start telling the truth or think of better lies. He said that what we were doing was dating. He said that what we were doing was what it was like to date him. He said it would be no different. But I didn't care. I was over him. Scratch that. There was nothing to be over because I never liked him in the first place. I was just using him. I'm the most selfish person in the world. I guess I should feel bad about that, but I don't.

It didn't matter at this point anyway. I had met a better guy. I started hanging out with him a lot. I still saw the first guy and he asked if we could still cuddle because he was lonely. I should have said no. I should have just left him alone. I could tell it damn near killed him every time we hung out. But I didn't leave him alone. I kept stringing him along. I would ask him whenever I saw him when he wanted to hang out again. And I could tell he didn't want to but he never says no to people he cares about. What an idiot. His life would be so much easier if he could just be as selfish as I am.

Once in December we were at a function together. We left at the same time. He asked me to come over and watch a movie with him. I said I couldn't, that I had plans with a friend. He asked if it was a guy. I said yes. I finally told him something true. He asked if I was dating the other guy. I said no. I started lying again. I had started dating the other guy in November. All while still hanging out and cuddling with him. But he wouldn't find that out for another month. And when he did, he cut all ties as much as was possible. He was absolutely disgusted that he fell for a girl as selfish and cruel, a lying bitch. We're civil these days. But he still hates me. He still wants to punch me every time he sees me. He still hates himself for ever believing a word I said. I guess I should feel bad, but I don't.

A Short Story

“Dude, Mike, Funfetti's the best cake. It's delicious; better than any other cake I've had.”

“You just think that because of the sprinkles.”

“No I don't. I don't even like sprinkles. They're chalky and gross. But Funfetti is -”

There was a loud bang. Someone was banging on the front window of the grocery store we were in.

“What the hell was that?” I started getting nervous. There were more bangs. I walked out of the cake aisle, followed by Mike. There were at least thirty people slowly banging and scratching at the window, trying to get in. But they weren't people. They were hollow shells. I kept walking toward the window. There was no life in those eyes. I realized what was happening and it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

“Syd!” I was snapped back to reality. One of them had found the door and Mike was trying to get me away from it. I turned around and surveyed the scared and confused faces behind me. Mike was talking to the manager.

“Syd, back room. We can barricade it up.”

“Got it. Everyone! Follow us!”

We directed everyone into the backroom. Chairs to sit down. One door back into the store – the way we came in. One other emergency exit – no outside handle; they can't get in but we have a way out. Others barricaded the door. I turned to Mike. “You saw them right? You know what we're dealing with, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What are they?” a girl asked, her voice shaking.

Mike and I both turned to look at the expectant faces. They all knew what we were facing but they wanted us to say anything else. But we couldn't. “Zombies,” we said together.

“We can't stay here, Mike.”

“We can't go out there.”

“We have to try. What about our friends at the bar?”

“That's far to go in the middle of this mess.”

“But the bigger group of people we get together, especially if it's populated with people we trust, we'll survive longer. That's all we can try for now.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Kyle. He answered, sounding panicked.

“Kyle, are you guys still at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Mike and I are at Madison Fresh Market. We're coming back to the bar.”

“You can't go out there.”

“We've got our bikes. We'll be there before you know it. Just clear a path for us to come in. We'll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

“Kyle.”

“What?”

“Don't get bitten.”

I hung up. “We need weapons.”

We found temporary weapons – broom sticks, hammer, anything we could substantially hit one of those things with. We put them in my backpack.

“Will the alarm sound if we open that door?” I asked the manager, motioning to the emergency exit.

He walked over to it and pulled a wire out of the metal box on the top. “Not anymore.”

“Thanks.” I turned to Mike, “Ready? You have to protect me while I open our bike locks.”

“I'm ready.”

I opened the door slowly. They hadn't found the back alley, or if they had, they hadn't stayed. It was empty. A feeling of relief washed over me. I started to hope. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I had imagined it was. We walked down the alley toward the bike racks. We turned the corner and I was face to face with dead eyes. I recognized the face. It was a kid from my Literature class. He was in my group. I talked to him twice a week. His name was Jack. I had to take my mind back. I had to remind myself it wasn't Jack anymore. Jack was dead. This looked like him, but it wasn't. Before I could stare any longer, Jack took a bat to the back of the head courtesy of Mike.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing at Mike.

We made it to the bike racks. I started putting the combination into my lock, Mike at my back swinging at heads. “Done. I'm doing yours.” We moved to Mike's bike. A U-lock. So much easier. Key in, turn, open. “You're totally right, Mike. I need to get a U-lock.”

We got on our bikes and started riding toward the capital. The streets looked like the world had ended. I guess it had. How are we supposed to survive in this? I was scared but not of dying, not of being bitten. I was scared of where this situation would take us. We can't break down. We need to stay sane. We need to keep it together. Just for a little while longer. Just focus on getting to the bar where we left our friends. I didn't want to leave them, but I wasn't feeling well. The grocery store was an accident. I would have been in my apartment when this went down if I hadn't followed Mike. I would have been safe until the morning at least. But my friends would have been in danger and I wouldn't have known. It's better this way. I can look out for the people I care about. I can hold us together. Where are we going to go? What if they're dead when we get there? No. I can't dwell on the possibilities, only the reality. We're biking. Swerving to avoid those lifeless things. We'll make it. We're almost there. I could see the sign for the bar. Those things were swarming the windows and doors. We skidded to a stop, dropped out bikes.

“We'll have to fight our way in. You sure you'll be okay?”

“Mike, I'm a lot stronger than I look. Let's do this.”

I pulled a weapon from my backpack. We started into the fray. Aiming for the heads. Just hit them hard enough to at least startle them. Just buy long enough to make the door. We just need the door. The swarm was never ending. We were in the middle of it. We weren't going to make it out. Suddenly, the door. It was there. The handle. I must reach it. It swung open before I could and out charged Brian and Sam. They started swinging, aiming for the heads. “Mike, Sydnie, come on. Get inside!” Kyle was holding the door, yelling for us. I made it. I was inside. I looked around. Mike was behind me. “Are you okay?” I asked him. I was praying I didn't get him killed. “That was a stupid plan, but yeah, I'm okay.”

I turned to Brian, “Where's everyone else?”

“Downstairs. This place is actually kind of perfect for this situation.”

Thank god a basement. It's better than being surrounded by these windows. I suddenly hate the human race for wanting to look outside when they're inside. Windows are useless and dangerous.

“Let's go.”

We followed them down the stairs. The bartenders, waitresses, so many people were there. What were we going to do now? We had food. Water. Alcohol. I guess it was better than somewhere else. It was better than being alone in this mess. The world was ending, the last thing I wanted to be was alone.

Brian walked over to a case, shot a glance at one of the bartenders, and popped it open. “I assume we're not going anywhere for a while, so here. You two look like you need one.” Beer. He handed a bottle to Mike, then to me. It was good.

“So what's the plan?” I had been expecting the question. I'm surprised it took someone so long to ask. And of course it was Kyle who was first.

“I'm taking suggestions,” I replied while raising the already almost empty bottle to my lips.

Everyone kept silent. I was hoping they were thinking and not just waiting. I was out of plans. I got to where I wanted to go. I wasn't thinking five steps ahead. I was focusing on the present. I was trying to hold it together. Trying to stay sane.

“We can stay here for a while. We can rest.” I gave Mike a thankful look for suggesting it. Rest would be good. I wouldn't sleep but given some time to think would help. It would save me, for a little while at least.

I sat against the wall. It was cold. The room had become quiet. Silent. I could hear those things outside. They still knew we were here. I really hoped they would lose interest. It seemed reasonable they would leave after a while. They couldn't get in. It was reasonable to me. But those things weren't reasonable. They didn't think. They were driven by one desire: to feed. They were reduced to one primal human instinct. It was terrifying. I was seized by fear. The mere thought of having to walk up those stairs, face those eyes again, made me feel light-headed. The edges of my vision started getting black. No, not yet. I couldn't let this darkness complete itself. I fought it back. Had to hold on.

I had to focus on something else, something real. I was still gripping my weapon. I was holding onto it so tight. My knuckles were white and my fingers hurt when I let go. It was just a metal bar. It was used to hold up the shelves in the grocery store. It was wide and flat, had hooks on the ends. There was so much blood on it. I took my sweatshirt off. I only had a tank top on underneath but the cold was of no consequence to me anymore. And when we start fighting again I'll get warm. I used my sweatshirt to clean the blood-spattered weapon.

“It'll just get dirty again,” Sam said. He had been watching me. I didn't even feel his eyes on me. My sense of the world around me was dulled. I needed to fix that if I wanted to make it out alive.

“I have to do something with my hands. I can't sit still.”

“You should try to sleep a bit. I'll wake you up if anything happens.”

“How would anyone sleep right now? Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be fine.” I tried to smile. It didn't come out right.

We sat in that basement for two hours but it felt like so many more. I was ready to move. I got up and walked across the room and sat down next to Mike.

“How long are we staying here?”

“We've got nowhere to go, Syd.”

“So we're just going to sit here forever? There's got to be cops or the military doing something out there. There's no way they'd leave us alone to fight this.”

I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I know how this ends. The majority of us are not going to make it. So the question becomes do you want to just sit here and wait to either starve or until they break through the windows up there? Or make a run for it? At least give it a shot. Living. We can make it. I'd rather try to find some help than just sit here and wait to die.”

“I'm not going out there!” One of the bartenders had overheard. I didn't even see him that close. Fuck. I wanted to have a plan before I told everyone what I was thinking.

“We're going out there?! You can't! You'll get killed!” A waitress. She was too scared. A liability. All these people I didn't know, I didn't trust, were liabilities. They weren't going to last. But I knew the four guys – Mike, Brian, Sam, Kyle – I knew they could do it. We had a fighting chance.

“Okay. I don't want to sit here and wait to die. I'm going out there to look for help...rescue...a savior,” I said. I had to fight to keep my voice even. I didn't want to go out there but sitting here waiting to die was worse than those things. “Anyone coming with me?”

Mike stood. “Yeah me.” I never doubted he would.

“I'm coming with you too,” Brian said. He got his weapon from the shelf he had set it on and headed towards the stairs.

“Kyle? Sam?” I was worried. They hadn't said anything.

“Yeah I'm coming,” Kyle said.

“Sam?”

“I can't. I've got to go home. Eloise is there. I need to be there with her.” He would have to go alone. I understood. We all did.

Everyone else remained silent. Good. I didn't want them slowing us down anyway. Only people I trust. Only people I knew would look out for me.

“Good. Let's go.” I started slowly up the stairs. I was gripping my metal stick too tight. My fingers hurt. But I only noticed for a second, then I got to the top of the stairs. They had lost interest in the windows, in us, but there were still swarms in the streets. Searching for food. Waiting for a human to slip up, to show their face.

I was about to reach for the door when Sam stopped me. “Let me go first,” he said. “I'll distract them. Give you guys a chance to get out of here.”

“Sam, no. You'll get yourself killed.” I pretended to protest but all I felt was relief. I didn't know if it was relief that I didn't have to go first or relief that actually going was being put off longer with this conversation. It didn't matter which it was, all that mattered now was the feeling.

“I'll be fine. I can outrun those bastards.”

“Okay. I'll see you when this is all over.”

He nodded. Said goodbye to the other guys, then ran out the door. The swarms immediately turned and started after him. We all knew we'd never see him again.

There was nothing else to do but open the door. I looked at the three men who still had my back. I trusted them. They were ready. So was I. My hand to the doorknob. It was so cold. Just like everything else in this world now.

I opened it. The cold air hit me like a softball to the stomach. We stepped out of the bar. Weapons ready. We started swinging. That sound. The cracking sound made when a head takes a metal bar to it. It's unlike any sound.

Through the madness I had to keep our plan in my head. I had to keep us focused, on track. We had to keep it together.

“Sydnie! Brian!” It was an urgent call. Fear seized me. I didn't want to turn around but I had to.

It was Mike calling us. He had stopped, standing in the middle of the street. Frozen. We all froze. Kyle was gone. Dead. The shell that remained was no longer the Kyle I knew. I ran to Mike.

“We have to keep moving. He's gone. There will be time later to deal.” I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't. There was no opportunity there. We had to keep moving.

We kept moving. Running for what seemed like forever. I was tired. I could feel the darkness slowly closing in. I had to fight it off. Finally we felt far enough away from those things we could slow our pace. I looked around. We were in a residential area. A place I had been through many times. It was all giant houses overlooking a lake. It used to seem so friendly and peaceful. Now it was dark and lonely. There was no one left.

We found a house that was open and went inside. We sat on the floor in what used to be a living room.

“Are both of you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” It was so dark but I recognized Mike's voice. Brian didn't answer.

“Brian? Are you okay?” I asked a second time. I knew the answer. He would not have put off answering if it was something we wanted to hear.

“No. I'm not doing very well.”

I pulled out a flashlight from my backpack. I turned it on and found Brian. He was pale. He looked sick. He was sick. They had infected him. He would be gone soon.

“Where?” I asked him. I tried to sound comforting, but it just came out even and unfeeling. He pulled up his sleeve. There was the bite. Dark. Repulsive. Cold.

I touched Brian. He felt so cold. “Brian, there's nothing we can do for you.”

“I know. When I turn, you have to kill me.”

I stood up. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to be there anymore. But I couldn't be anywhere else. I waited. Mike had left the room. He didn't want this either. None of us did.

Brian turned. I ended him.

I found Mike in a room upstairs. “What do you want to do? I don't think any of those things are out there. So we can stay here for a while. Or we can keep moving. Try to find something else, someone else.”

He didn't speak. I went downstairs again. I sat and I waited again. There was time now. There was time to deal. I was so tired. I was trying to think steps ahead. Where would we go from here? Or maybe we should just hold up here. I didn't want to think about Kyle or Brian. The people I had lost. There was no use. The world was ending. There were bound to be losses. But I couldn't help it. Tears came. Then the darkness started closing in again, but this time I didn't fight it, hoping it would be the last time.

I awoke to Mike yelling my name. He was standing over me. I was on the floor. I had passed out. He was yelling something else but I couldn't comprehend it. I thought I was dreaming. I thought for just a second the whole night had been a dream. Then one of those things came up behind him. He turned swiftly and disposed of it. That snapped me back to reality. I jumped up with my weapon already in my hand.

“Where did they all come from?” There were swarms of them. So many. Former people. Shells. Hollow.

They broke through the windows. We had to get out of there. They broke through the back door. We were trying so hard to get them off us. But they were everywhere. I turned to Mike to try and tell him we need to get upstairs. He wouldn't have heard me. One of those things was biting into his neck. He dropped his bat. It was over. More of them swarmed around him. He yelled from pain but then was silenced. And I was alone.

I killed my way to the stairs and sprinted to a bedroom. I shut the door, locked it. Barricaded it with a dresser I knocked over nearby. It was good enough. They would break through eventually. The door wasn't even real wood. I took stock. I had my metal bar, but that was it. My backpack was downstairs. I was so tired. My hands hurt. I lost it. Everything. Everyone. My family was probably gone. My friends. The few people I wanted to protect. I didn't care anymore. I opened one of the windows and stepped out onto the porch roof. They were scratching and banging at the bedroom door. Soon they would be in. I sat down. The sky was getting light. The sun. I had forgotten that days go on even when your world is ending. I could just see the edge of the sun over the horizon when they broke through the door. A wave of relief washed over me and I knew it was done.

7 Things That Annoy Me (And I Might Stop Being Friends With You For)

1. The word “moist.”

   I hate this word with a fiery passion rivaled only by gods. It is the worst word in the entire English language. There's no way you can make it sound good. Moist cake? I'm suddenly not so hungry. Moist towelette? No thanks. I'll just wash my hands in the bathroom. I think the biggest problem is somehow, and I have no clue how this happened, but somehow in the past years whenever someone says moist I think of sex. But not the good parts of sex. Just all the bad, gross, fluidy parts. I bet you have a much more interesting take on moist cake now, right?

2. Kids who pack up their stuff five minutes before class ends.

   Hey, idiots who do this. There is no way anywhere you have to go would require that you get out immediately when class ends. I mean I never pack up until we're dismissed and do you know when I leave the classroom? About 10-20 seconds after class ends. Seriously. And then I hop on my fixie and go to Genna's where I drink PBR and listen to bands you've probably never heard of. There is absolutely no reason to disrupt my learning with that annoying nonsense.

3. Using real science during a hypothetical conversation.

   Let me define “hypothetical conversation” in the way I mean it here. Sometimes when I'm in a group of people I like to propose really crazy situations and see how people would respond. Or if other people do the same thing, I love to take part in the conversation. Usually with this type of conversation, real-world science may be brought up, but it's never used to discourage someone's response. Most of the people I spend my time with know that when engaged in this type of conversation, everything in the real-world goes out the window. My favorite example is talking about what type of superhero is the best or what type you'd most want to be. This scenario becomes totally stupid and futile to talk about if we're basing it in this world. However, there are those people I run into that love to just shoot down everything I propose with science nonsense. Fuck science! If I'm engaging in a conversation about superheroes I don't want all my suggestions shot down with real-world stuff. I want to be able to imagine I can do whatever I want. Another example, the one that really made me realize how much I hate this: The conversation turned to ways the human race could destroy itself. I believe it will someday. I have absolutely no faith in us. So I was listing some ridiculous ways (a Planet of the Apes scenario, which I still believe would be the coolest way ever), but then I thought of a real way. Nuclear war. And immediately someone jumped in and said that even if nuclear war happened some people would survive. Obviously, being a Philosophy major, I was never too good at science. I was really really bad at science. I still am. I barely passed rocks for jocks (Geology 101). So I didn't know if he was right or wrong. But then someone else piped up and said he was wrong, that if nuclear war happened, the nuclear winters and stuff would probably kill everyone who didn't die in the blast or some stuff. I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess the biggest issue I have with pulling real-world science into non-real-world hypothetical conversations is that I then get alienated and can no longer participate in the conversation because I have no clue what you're talking about or if what you're saying is true or not. And no one likes that feeling. Moving on.

4. Driving.

   Don't get me wrong, I love driving (although, I liked driving before it became mainstream). It's my favorite activity, especially speeding down country roads. But it's the other drivers that annoy me. From people who speed up, pass me, and then slow down when they get in front of me, to people who don't understand how four-way stops work, to even the kids who freely step out in front of my car when I'm driving on campus. There's just a lot that other people do that frustrate me and then make me shake my steering wheel like I'm making James Bond a martini. I won't go into much more detail because I think other drivers annoy everyone.

5. Being immature when I'm trying to talk about something serious.

   I am not a very mature person. I definitely can be when I need to be. But when I'm in a good mood with people I love, I'll be the first one to say “that's what she said” or be sitting there making dick jokes. I love it. I love the subtle, high-end jokes as well, but sometimes you just have to make a dick joke. But when I'm trying to talk about something serious going on in my life, I want the person I'm talking to to take it somewhat serious as well. If you're making jokes to cheer me up, cool because it'll probably work. Nothing makes me happier than someone else making me laugh with some good puns or whatever. I guess I'll give you an example. When I was still with my last boyfriend (it must have been somewhere in late '09) my parents were seriously thinking about getting a divorce. I didn't tell anyone about it. But I wanted to talk to someone about it so I went to my boyfriend. He couldn't take the conversation seriously. He just sat there quoting Futurama and being stupid. It was actually one of the biggest reasons I broke up with him later on, he just could not be mature or take anything seriously. I really don't want you to get the wrong impression, I love being stupid and making jokes. But you have to be able to recognize situations when you need to cut down on the jokes and try to just be mature and supportive. He never could do that. And I've known other people who couldn't either. I guess it's all about being able to read the situation correctly, which some people have real trouble with.

   (A little side note that doesn't warrant it's own number. Something that can annoy me to no end is some people's sense of humor. I've been able to surround myself with people who find the same things funny as I do lately, luckily. But when I was dating that guy I was talking about before, most of the jokes made in his group, and by him, were just quoting shows. Quotes have their place. If you slip them into a conversation at the right moment, they can work perfectly. But not if the quote is the whole joke. I heard that joke once when I watched the show it came from, why do I want to hear it again from someone not as funny?)

6. Modern/Abstract Art

   Ugh. Being a former art student, I kind of feel a little bad about this one. I should appreciate it for whatever meaning the artist is trying to get across. But I don't. I think 98% of modern art sucks and about 99.99999% of abstract art sucks. I won't appreciate a piece of artwork if I could reproduce it in ten minutes. I suck at art so I want real artists to be producing thought-provoking, world-changing pieces. But, I gotta say, it's been a long time since I've come across one. The best example of this is from the Milwaukee Art Museum. When I was going to the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, I pretty much lived at the MAM. You walk in and down the first corridor and there's ancient works and death masks, paintings and portraits I could never recreate in a million years. It's beautiful artwork. But then you make the mistake of going upstairs. And the one piece that really annoyed me then, even when I was an art student and actually tried taking an interest in art pieces being produced today (when I wasn't waiting in the coffee shop you've probably never heard of for my one pump, extra shot, soy, extra hot grande caramel macchiato), was one that consisted of three giant canvases hanging on the wall. Do you want to know what was painted on each canvas? The primary colors. That's it. One canvas was blue, one red, and one yellow. Really? I could do that in five minutes and it's in a frickin' art museum? I'm sure the artist had some deep meaning behind it, but if I can't guess the hidden layers of your art by studying it, then it doesn't matter what you meant it as, it only matters what you put on canvas, my friend. And no matter how long I stared at that wall, all I could think was, “If that's all it takes to be an artist, then I want to do something more challenging with my life.” So I did. I'm a Philosophy major now. So I guess I should say thank you lazy artist. I don't remember who you are. But because of you, I realized I was never meant to be in art school so I dropped out. Best decision I've ever made.

   Oh abstract art! It's just stupid. Again, I think if you're going to go super modern or abstract with your art, it has to still be in a way that the normal person can get the meaning you were going after. Otherwise the art doesn't mean anything to anyone viewing it. I know it still means something to you, and I've done pieces like that too. They only mean something to me, not to anyone else in the world. But those are the pieces I don't hang on my walls. I don't know. Maybe I just have a too narrow view of art, but then again it's all subjective so you can't really say I'm wrong.

7. Preachy vegans (or vegetarians or pretty much preachy anything).

   I understand, okay. It's a big life change going from eating delicious delicious meat to eating not delicious meat, but that does not mean for one second I want to hear about it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week (or what some call 24/7, but that's just too mainstream for me). I really don't want to hear about it if you only did it because you think killing animals is wrong. I don't care. Really. I love ham and bacon and chicken and even the occasional cow-meat-patty (It's called a hamburger. You've probably never heard of it). But I'm not going to preach about how awesome meat is all the time. So why do you think I'd want to hear about how awesome not-meat is? And don't give me that tofu crap. Ew. That stuff is nasty. Worse than tuna. I have nothing against vegans or vegetarians but I don't want to hear about it all the time. You're more interesting than that. I believe you can find something else to talk about. And that goes for all preachy people, whether it be religion, food, or circumcision (I have heard enough about foreskin in the past week to satisfy the foreskin quota for the rest of my life).

Syd

Cookies And Gender Stereotypes

I just spent almost two hours looking for cookie recipes online so I can make cookies for the AHA meeting tomorrow. “But that would only take like five minutes,” you say. “Just google the type of cookie you want! It's literally that simple.” I know you're just trying to help, but (A) I didn't ask for your help. I know how to google, du unwissend Nutte! (B) No. It's not that simple. Not for me.

See my epic problem is I love cooking and baking for other people (note the “other people” part. That's why all the meals I eat in my apartment come out of my microwave. That and my stove is fucking scary. I'm pretty sure I'd burn the entire city down if I just turned it on.), but I absolutely hate the part of being in the kitchen and actually doing the baking/cooking. Needless to say I'm not very good at being a proper woman (because we're just supposed to stay in the kitchen right?). I enjoy the part where I actually deliver the food the most. The look on people's faces when you hand-deliver homemade food that you cooked/baked exclusively for them is just flippin' priceless. Seriously. If you've never experienced that, you need to before you die. But the actual making of the food sucks.

That's what I look like in the kitchen. Of course not as adorable.

The sad panda thing is that everything I cook/bake turns out fucking delicious. I mean nations would literally go to war over it. That's how delicious it is. But nobody ever knows that because I hate cooking.

So anyway. That all was slightly off topic but not really. I mean it was all within the same topic family. It was just the weird uncle who's 6' 6”, has a pretty Castro-looking beard, crazy eyes, and is obsessed with guns (description based on one of my uncles. At first glance he looks scary, but he's really one of the nicest men ever). Relevant, but kinda scary if you don't know him. Again I'm digressing. Apologies. I have a lot running through my mind right now and none of it is about cookies.

My uncle. My family is ridiculous and awesome.

COOKIES! “Sydnie shut up,” you're probably groaning at your screen. But jokes on you I can't hear you. “So why isn't finding cookie recipes online easy for you? What are you, an idiot?” Well yes, but not in the way you think I am! I found plenty of wonderful sounding recipes, but they all take so long and have ingredients that I would waste my money on for this one instance and then put in a cupboard and never use again. I hate that. Why can't everything just be made up of the same six ingredients? Life would be so much simpler.

New York strip. Now made from vanilla extract, salt, milk, eggs, flour, and butter flavored shortening.

And since when is “butter flavored shortening” a thing? That has to be a recent invention. I mean it's an advance in cooking technology because, well, I assume if you use “butter flavored shortening” you wouldn't need butter right? So thanks Crisco for cutting down on ingredients. But anything that freely writes “butter flavored” on the package makes me want to vomit. It reminds me that I live in a country where people won't eat anything unless it's fried, chocolate covered, or slathered in so much butter you might as well just be eating deep fried butter (which is totally a thing! It is the grossest thing ever! I would like to meet the person who came up with that, raise my hand like I want to give them a high five, and then take it away when they go to hit it).

Wernstrom!

So I find tons of recipes that all take way too much time (I've only got a few hours between my last class and the meeting, people, I can't slave over a hot stove all day!) and/or use ingredients that I really don't want to waste my precious money on. I have found some that don't take a lot of time, but again the moneys. So you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to just say screw it and buy cookie dough and then just bake that. No one will have to know it's not homemade. Granted, one person in the group will know because he will probably read this eventually. But hopefully he'll make a pact with me not to tell anyone that the cookies weren't homemade... ...and to lose our virginities by prom night (I did your joke for you).

Some of my specialties (if I like you a lot and you ask me, I'd probably make you one or all of these):

• Lasagna

• Sandwiches (Hey look! My dream of being a proper woman isn't lost after all.)
• Mac 'n Cheese
• My Grandma's Spaghetti
• Fudge
• Butter Noodles (simple, but easy to mess up if you're a n00b)
• Puppy Chow (that actually is really simple)
• Lots of other types of pasta. When I lived in Janesville, I learned to get really creative with pasta dishes.
• Cakes, especially boob shaped ones.

Yes. Manda and I made this for Kaylee's birthday. It even had candy nipples under the frosting.

Syd

To The Hospital, And Beyond!

I woke up. "Oh fuck ow!" My right side was killing me. It was like my insides were revolting against me. "Hey, organs, screw you! You can't revolt, you'll die without me." But they wouldn't listen. All day every time I walked around, which is all I do when I've got classes, I would have sharp pains coming and going. It stopped for a while after I managed to stumble through an exam in my Philosophy 210 class. I thought it was over. But no. About half an hour later, the pain got so bad, I had to call the doctor. That's a major thing. I'm not really phased by physical pain. I can deal with a lot of it. And I hate going to the doctor's office. So to freely call the doctor because of pain, it was bad.

I have to go to the hospital.

They told me to go to the ER at the UW Hospital. So I called my mom to come pick me up, and then told my TA for the class that was about to start that I was going to the hospital. My mom got me and we went to the ER. It has changed a lot since the last time I was there. It was all nice and rebuilt.

First they made me pee in a cup. It was another instance when the only thing in the world I wanted was a penis. It would be so much easier. That and then I could have gone outside and pissed my name in the snow. I just want to mark all the snow.


Then they took me back to a room. My doctor came in. He was super serious so the entire time I was trying to make him laugh. He sat down and started asking me questions. He asked me if I'm sexually active. I hate that question. How am I supposed to answer that? I'm not currently doing that, I have before, I'd be open to it if the right guy asked. Blergh. I stumbled through the awkward questions while my mother was sitting there, listening to all the answers.

After that, he said he wanted to give me a pelvic exam. Fuck. That. I really tried to say no, but he said with the pain I was having, it would be best if he did one. The nurse that was in the room, who was actually very nice, told me she wanted me to just relax and spread my legs like a frog.

This was the only frog I could think of. Thanks Foul Bachelor Frog.

After that ordeal, they put in an iv and took some blood. I love watching that part. It's so cool.


Then another resident doctor came in and said he was going to ultrasound my tummy so he could look at all my awesome organs. He and another doctor came in. The doctor was teaching him how to ultrasound and look for this and that. It was pretty awesome. They lost my gallbladder though. They couldn't find it except for when they came at it from one certain way.

After all that, I had to just sit there and wait for like an hour and a half. Finally yet another doctor came in, told me all my tests were turning up negative so far, pushed on my stomach, and then said they'd be getting me out of there in a little bit. Wait for another chunk of time that seemed like forever, and then the nurse came back in and said there was nothing wrong with me and I could go home.


- Urine sample
- Pelvic exam
- Blood samples
- and an ultrasound
and there's nothing wrong with me. It still hurts. But I'll be fine. And it was quite an adventure.

Syd