I Finally WatchedThe Vampire Diaries A LOT, which should be spelled Vampyr. Really. They're Not Trying Hard Enough.

I have this friend who has been working on a trio of paintings for like, a year. Each one is a city landscape, and he just keeps painting over things, taking buildings down, taking signs down, repainting the signs, changing the skies so it goes from hurricane to mild rain, some sunshine, weird lighting. He was telling me about the newest part over the phone, and I was suddenly really sad that I hadn't been taking pictures of the paintings ever time I went over there. It would show them in every manifestation, and it would be like that movie Smoke, where the guy takes a picture of the same street corner, every day at the same time, for like fifty years. I think the photo journal accompaniment would be cool to have, it would make the triptych into a comment on urban development. Also then he could make an animation of it. MISSED OPPORTUNITY.



Yesterday instead of cleaning I watched like ten episodes of the Vampire Diaries in a row. I don't know why I put it on the recording schedule. CW was doing like a marathon of the entire first season last week, and I must have thought what the hell. I wish very much that at that exact moment, one of you had kicked me in the head. It's one of those shows where everyone sucks, except for one character, which gets all the sarcastic lines, so he's like a walking Writers inside joke. And that's the character played by my boyfriend from Rules of Attraction. This show might have worked way better if Edward (I mean Stefan) was played by Dawson. And Bella (I mean Elena) was played by Susan Sossamon. And there were no vampires. And the vampires didn't have rings that let them walk around in the sun. If we took those rings away, it would cut in half the amount of 90210 drama. Still leaving it with more than 90210 itself. Also, there are no werewolves, yet. What is the point of vampires if you don't have werewolves?

When I was younger, I used to read Anne Rice and Poppy Z Brite. While I would never be tempted to read them again (because frankly I'd rather reread The Babysitters Club), it does seem like I had a better quality of trashy vampire sex novel back then. I think Stephanie Meyers is lowering people's expectation at how hard an author should work to hide that she's writing porn.

When you watch ten hours of something, anything, you are going to start to feel high on it. My emotional take away from this event was that it's totally true, every new person you date is going to be a compilation of traits from previous people you dated, so I can totally forgive this crappy storyline where Elena looks exactly like some vampire Civil War Belle that Stefan used to be in love with. Because even though its incredibly creepy to have some guy with that kind of hair be stalking you for 145 years in various incarnations, and also quite sad to think that even though you keep being reborn, you will somehow always be stuck in this small town, it's kind of reflective of how everyone's relationships are. Right?

Those rings are seriously lame.

Last night I saw some old friends, and I got extremely drunk at ABC. Then, at home, I was walking to the bathroom from my bedroom, and fell head first down the stairs. Even worse, afterwards, I couldn't get unstuck from between the stairs and the front door, which I hit hard. It took me forever to get up. I think it's actually a good thing I was that drunk, I think the alcohol probably made it better, because when I woke up this morning it wasn't that bad and I didn't even have a bruise yet. It has however been developing on several spots on my body, like a bloody fungi under my skin. Up above? That's my lower back. Also on my knee, and a giant bump on my head. It reminded me of the last time I hurt myself that badly, which was back in Kent when I drank an entire bottle of Southern Comfort, and walked across town with friends to go to a club. I was totally fine the whole way there, until we got to the door and I tripped and fell flat on my face. Hard. Also, there was the time when Marty lived in this house, actually the first time I met him, he had a party and I fell down the basement steps, all the way down. In retrospect, I think this house is actively trying to kill me.



I've noticed that I seem to get the most comments on posts I write that are all serious and shit, and never the funny ones. It's like you guys don't think I'm funny or something. I mean, I'm not the funny one in my family, that's my sister. But I think I'm up there on the ladder, somewhere around "not not funny". So since it can't be my writing, I have to assume it is your fault. You guys are way too obsessed with love and beauty and shit like that, like you think it's IMPORTANT or something. How did I get such serious readers?

Anyway, my brother showed me The Bloggess, and she's become my favorite funny blog. She's one of those ones that is SO good, you want to leave her comments on everything, but there's already 214 comments on each post, so what's the point?