"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com

 
Rose Colored Glasses

So, hypothetically, if I were to travel far, far away from where I go to law school to a magical place where they hypothetically hold a mythical festival called “Mardi Gras” for over two weeks and where there are constant hypothetical parades and parties going on during the hypothetical month of February, I could, hypothetically, write about the experiences I have in such a fictional, hypothetical location, correct? Good. Now, everyone get ready for some totally made-up hypothetical fun!

Mardi Gras is upon us, and, although I started out this year as a little bit of a curmudgeon, I think I may be coming around. In general, I don't enjoy any event that involves mindless masses of people milling around like cattle lumbering to the slaughter. To give you a particularly vivid example, I hate Disney World. It is not a happy place for me; it is a place that makes me feel alienated. And when I feel alienated, I start getting all existential on people’s asses, and it’s not pretty. Like Disney World, Mardi Gras parades usually fall into my category of the dehumanizing and the profane. Oooh, beads. Oooh, unfortunate body parts on display. Oooh, some guy’s puke on my shoe. Now that's a party!

That said, I went to a parade with J a few days ago (who, incidentally, looks and acts like a little boy on Christmas morning when he catches good beads), and I actually enjoyed myself. J saw me smiling and being (gasp) somewhat pleasant and involved, and said, “I thought you hated parades!” I held up my Hurricane (a famous drink of the rum + red stuff variety) and said, “Rose colored glasses, my friend.” And it was true. It’s all in the way you look at things. I guess sometimes even a confirmed Mardi Gras scrooge can lighten up and don a few stupid plastic necklaces once in a while...and actually have a good time doing it. Totally unbelievable, I know. But this is a completely fictional story, and it doesn’t have to make sense. As if I would really live somewhere where this type of nonsense goes on…

Unrelated Note: Go here. I am laughing out loud right now. Thanks to Scott. Grimace Palm! is my favorite.

posted by Bekah at 3:27 PM :: |

 
Polaroid Pictures: Stirred, not Shaken

Outkast is under fire for their "offensive" performance at the Grammys. I guess I can see how the show could have been taken badly, but I really think Irish people should be more offended than Native Americans. It looked like someone stole Andre 3000's lucky charms and wasn't giving them back.

In related news, the Polaroid company made an important announcement today: Do not, they repeat, do NOT shake actual Polaroid pictures. While old Polaroid pictures could be shaken to aid in the drying process, shaking the more modern Polaroids (oxymoron?) actually blurs the image. Also, Polaroid, rather than taking Outkast to court for some sort of trademark horseshit suit, has decided to team up with Outkast in future ad campaigns. The moral? Don't get mad--get a new and lucrative ad campaign!

posted by Bekah at 4:41 PM :: |

 
Yes, I Hate Vermont Teddy Bears.

I realize that it's almost as cliche to hate Valentine's Day as it is to like it, but I still can't say that I'm a huge fan. There's the forced, commercial aspect of it that is disturbing--the required gift-giving, the flowers that will only die, the obligatory specter of the "L Word" hovering in the air like persistent B.O. on an Italian subway. I dislike Valentine's Day for all of those reasons. But I think the thing that I hate most is that, even if you don't buy into Valentine's Day in theory, you still feel bad when the day doesn't go well. It's like you have some kind of subconscious need to make the day special, even if you really don't think you should have to. For me, the majority of yesterday was rainy, cold, and basically unremarkable. J and I tried to push through, but we finally contemplated just giving in and going back to the diner where I once got food poisoning and then going to see You Got Served. We figured, if you can't beat the shittiness, join it. Luckily after a few tantrums and a nap, we eventually decided to go out to dinner at one of my favorite places. My dinner wasn't as good as it was the last time, but, as J said, "Hey, it's Valentine's Day. What do you expect?" Anyway, the night ended up going very well, but not because it was Valentine's Day. It went well in spite of it.

I'm Rick James, Biatch!

Yeah, this post has nothing to do with Rick James, I just like saying "I'm Rick James, Biatch!" Dave Chappelle is funny. I also like when he makes fun of white people. White people are funny.

posted by Bekah at 9:10 AM :: |