even though it does not look like it outside (thanks to the Chinook), it is the winter and the holidays are over; the january ennui is about to set in. here's something from Angel Season 1, episode 13 to cheer you up. this clip is from the beginning of the episode where Angel, the broody vampire with a soul, is invited to Cordelia's party, where one of her friends chats him up.
BONUS: from season 5. mild spoiler warning
here's something i received in an email quite some time ago that came up again today.
From an English professor:
You know that book Men are from Mars, Women from Venus? Well, here's a prime example of that. This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students: Rebecca (last name deleted) and Gary (last name deleted).
English 44A
SMU
Creative Writing
Prof. Miller
In-class Assignment for Wednesday
Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back and forth.
Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her Asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago.
"A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his trans-galactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.
"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her.
She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth -- when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.
Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race.
Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans.
The President slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.
Asshole.
Bitch.
Listen
hello, it's me again
a whole lot's changed since i left and
i don't know, i guess i felt like checking in
surprise! you let it ring
well it's your turn to leave me hanging
i don't care, i know you love it when you see me call
i wonder who you're loving now
i'm guessing we won't work things out
you know what they say
you can't have it so you want it back
i'm way past that, believe me
if you could be in my life
like you've been on my mind
it'd be so easy
hello, it's me again
it's three days now you've been in my dreams
and i don't know, i guess that you've just been on my mind
i don't know, i guess i think about you all the time
i wonder if she's much like me
i wonder if she's what you need
you know what they say
you can't have it so you want it back
i'm way past that, believe me
if you could be in my life
like you've been on my mind
it'd be so easy
i know i'm to blame
but it kills me that
i made you hate me
like you've erased me
and i know what they say
they say you'll be happier
better off without me
i'm sure it's hard to see me
i'm sure you don't believe a word
because you've heard it all before
and we're so far from where we were
goodbye, i'll let you go
i'll get back to life, living solo
cause i know i need a few years on my own
you know what they say
you can't have it so you want it back
i'm way past that, believe me
if you could be in my life
like you've been on my mind
it'd be so easy
i know i'm to blame
but it kills me that
i made you hate me
like you've erased me
and i know what they say
they say that you'll be happier
better off without me
regrouping; reassessing resources, motivations, priorities; and adjusting deployment plans accordingly. what worked? what failed? how can this be better next time?
as per instructions, i went into winter retreat at Iawah without any expectations.
here are some tidbits i discovered:
if you've heard of Scott Song, raise your hand.
i heard about him from Mel K, who heard about him from Hannah; i don't know how far back the trail goes, but eventually, it leads back to Scott Song, an ABK Christian guy who is quite observant. he has written a series of articles about the way things are and they were disseminated via email forwards.
disclaimer: i don't know him personally, so i'm not affiliated with him in any way. the link above leads to the page of some kind soul that wanted to share Song's work with the world, rather than waste his time forwarding emails all day. the articles themselves (Song calls them his 'plans') are funny, but as it is with all funny things, some may not find it all that funny (read: offensive).
the title of this post links to the 'plan' that is probably one of his more astute observations. here's a snippet:
ALL girls want a tall guy. tall girls want a tall guy,so go read it now.
obviously. and SHORT girls want a tall guy, too. sure, they may be
willing to be with a shorter guy (as long as he is taller than her), but
she would still desire a taller guy, if possible. some give bogus reasons
such as "i want a tall husband so that my kids won't be short." that's
when i know they are lying to my face. that's like a guy saying "i want
to marry a supermodel so that my kids won't be ugly."
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