Friday Quote!

OK, it's been a century since I put up a Friday quote. Since I'm on campus and away from my infamous "quote notebook," (yes, I keep track of cool quotes in a notebook) I'll have to stick with what I've got. What I've got is my copy of Hesiod's Work and Days, which I just finished reading for my classical literature class. He doesn't like women very much, as evidenced by this quote.

"He who believes a woman, believes cheaters."

He also refers to women as "arse-rigged." I'm not sure what to make of that. Anybody?

Anyway, Happy Labor Day! May you not have to do any actual labor on the day.

Sing It, Boys!

When I first got to Utah, my dear Mummy told me about something called A Cappellastock. Think Woodstock, but with super cute guys singing harmony instead of Roger Daltry destroying guitars. Since I'm such a sucker for guys singing together, I thought, "What the hell? Let's go!"

Shortly after that at my TEN year highschool reunion (very weird to think it's been ten years), they were raffling off various different lame prizes. Just when I was looking for the cocktail waitress to bring me another weak gin and tonic, they mentioned two tickets to A Cappellastock. My ears perked up and then they called someone else's name. My old friend Melissa won them instead. Damn!

A couple of the more mormon heads nearby turned around at my involuntary expletive and I, reluctantly, gave them an apologetic look. Melissa, who was just passing through town, was kind enough to give me her two tickets.

After an upgrade courtesy of my dearest mommy, my parents and I were ready to go! Last Saturday, we hauled ourselves down to the Ogden amphitheatre and squatted on the grass until our seats were in the shade.

The pre-show entertainment were the Saltaire's, who are about 25 guys, singing traditional barber-shop songs and a few spiritual hymns thrown in. They were fabulous to listen, but kind of dorky to look at. I say that with all due respect, of course.

The main show started at 8pm and was fan-damn-tastic! High Fidelity was this strange little group that combined Trekkie humor with songs that ranged from Danny Boy to their own orginal Trekkie songs. They made my dad crazy, but I thought they were funny.

Thw two highlights of the evening were Tonic Sol-Fa, who kick major ASS, and XRP which is short for Ex-Rockapella. Yes, the dudes from Carmen Sandiego. Apparently, they haven't done anything in years, but they still sound pretty damn good.

We had a grand old time and I can't wait for next year! And you know what? I'm pretty sure you'd never see this kind of thing in L.A.

School Days, School Days

Hooray for the first day of school!

Despite having a rather crappy night's sleep last night, the first day of school was great!

My desktop publishing class is going to be hugely useful and probably interesting too. My professor reminds me of my friend Debbie, which is super cool cause I love Debbie!

My classic literature class and technical writing class are taught by the same professor who reminds me of my favorite highschool teacher, Mr. James. I like him already and he knew to pronounce my last name in the proper French manner. He read us a paper a previous student wrote that's a goddess creation myth. "... she presented them with the staff of life and she called it chocolate."

My linguistics class makes only a little sense now, but that's what textbooks are for. And it seems a fairly logical subject.

All in all, an excellent beginning. But now, I must go read Hesiod's Theogony, which is the history of the Greek pantheon of gods.

Yeah, this should work out just fine.

Bitch, bitch, bitch!

While attending a wine tasting last Saturday night, I was faced with a bottle of red "wine." It was called Bitch. Yup, you read that right. And the description on the back of the bottle read like this... "Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch..." and so on.




It was an OK table wine, but with a name like that, what do you expect?


It had been purchased at the discount liquor store in Mesquite and it was supposed that with a great name like that, who the hell cared if it was any good or not.

Bring it On!

My tuition is paid, my books are purchased, I have two new pairs of (CUTE) glasses, my stage managing bag has been cleared of its theatre paraphenalia and is ready for collegiate accoutrement.

Here I am in my cutest new glasses. That's also a glimpse of my bedroom behind me. Many books, as you can see.

Classes start in just over a week and I am STOKED! I'm going to kick ass at this.

And the best part? (In my weird little twisted mind anyway.) I finally get to read The Odyssey and The Iliad.

I know. I'll just get "Geek" tattooed on my forehead now and save us all the time.

And a little side tangent... My Auntie and her hubby are stage managing Banshee's next show. It makes me feel slightly better about the fact that I buggered off and left them without an SM. Slightly better. I know they'll make me proud.

Travelling Felinity

I found this journal entry the other day. It was written on a piece torn from a cat food bag and shoved down into the corner of the cat box. I believe my dearest B wrote it on our recent Car Trip From Hell. Enjoy.

Day 490 of my Captivity-

The humans, who have been ransacking the apartment for the last two days, have made a new move. This morning, they stuck a pill down my throat and shoved me in a box. I think the pink mousie they put in with me was supposed to make me more comfortable. I sneer at their pathetic attempts and I made my displeasure known very soon. They had put The Box into... I think I heard it called "The Car." I vocalized my discomfort, but my mom just ignored me. Hmmm. We'll see what we can do about that. I proceeded to empty my bladder and bowels in The Box and that got mom to stop The Car really fast. I was not removed from the box, unfortunately. The cloth under me was removed and discarded (fine by me, it stank of other cats anyway).

Once back in The Car, I spent AGES and AGES trying to get mom to stop again, but to no avail. She did let me out of The Box once to use the litter box facilities. I figured it was better than The Box, so I laid down. Mom was not amused.

Once the car finally stopped, we were somewhere painfully hot, particularly when one is wearing the finest fur. Somewhere called "Vegas," but I also heard it called, "Hell." Mom said that.

I was removed from the box, to my great delight, but was just moved to a different box. True, it was bigger and had food, water, and my litter box, but it was NOT the five star accomodations I was hoping for. My one consolation is that I got to keep waking up mom during the night. I figure she deserves it for putting me through this.

Day 491 of my Captivity-

I'm in the damned Box again! Mom is going to pay.

I did catch up on some sleep today, but I seriously dislike corners... and loud music. Mom was playing some music by someone she called U2... and singing. God, she was singing along with them. I thought I was going to lose it.

Actually, I did lose it a little bit. OK, a lot. But, again, mom deserved it! We stopped somewhere along the line and they let me OUT of The Box! Joy of joys! I was on a leash and harness, but still a little freedom does a lot for a girl's psyche. I wandered in the cool grass, sniffed the miraculous smells, and drank some water. All was well.

Wait, what?! They want me to get back in The Box again! No way! I got out of the harness and made a break for it, but MOM caught me. Damn her. She was really pissing me off, so I latched on and into her flesh. And I did a damned fine job. She had blood flowing freely down her creepy white skin. She needs fur, in my opinion. I was back in The Box again... Sigh.

When I thought it was all over at last, I found myself in a house with THREE other cats. What is it mom says? Oh, yeah. WHAT THE HELL?!

Yeah, we had good times on that drive. Clearly.

My war wounds have almost healed, thanks to Vitamin E and an early application of Neosporin. Many thanks to Pascal and Ang for putting up with us in Vegas. And many more thanks to the pharmacy in Fillmore, Utah for the roll of gauze, the tube of antibiotic ointment, and the use of their scissors. And to my mom and dad, for not having killed the cat yet.

Obviously, she's adjusted just fine. The other cats are still working on not hating her ever-breathing guts. The adventure continues.

The Fair and My Susceptible Sinuses

Now, that I'm back in the land of my people, I'm trying to adjust to those sections of humanity that you just don't really see in L.A.

This morning, for instance, I went to the Weber County Fair with my mummsy. She was manning a booth for a few hours and thought I might enjoy seeing the baby lambs and taking advantage of the free admission on this, the first day of the fair.

We found a whole room full of rabbits, waiting to be judged and were warned that they MIGHT bite us if we touched them. There was an enormous white fluffy one that made me think of Lennie in Of Mice & Men and of the horrible death the bunny would have faced if he ever met Lennie.

There was also a room full of giant, mean-ass roosters that did NOT want to be in cages and were taking it out on the roosters in the cages next to them. Or by crowing at the top of their lungs.

The lambs that were being shown seemed quite put out that they were being made to stand in a pose while a judge prodded their nether regions and looked at their teeth. I saw one that was trying to drag the little girl who was showing it right off her feet.

By this point, my eyes had swollen to twice their usual size and I had enough mucus in my head to make me resemble Jabba the Hutt. Whether it was from the goat dander, the hay, or all the poo, I wasn't sure, but I was ready to get the hell out of there. Especially considering the "beer of the day" was Coors Light. Ick.

I have to say, I highly respect these people for loving this life so passionately and being willing to take on such a daunting task. After all, because they are willing to do it, it means I don't have to see the Giant Hog who weighs over 1000 lbs. Seriously, if you're in the Weber County area in the next four days, you can see it for all of 50 cents. You know you want to...