Mornings. GAH.

I am not a morning person. Have I mentioned this before? Yes. Will I continue to mention it? As long as I have to wake up in the morning, yes.

Are there any other non-morning people who feel my pain--the pain that comes from rolling out of bed before 6 am? I'm betting most of the people reading this feel the same way I do, as a matter of fact. So, here's my question:

If the majority of us are NOT morning people, why is it that we allow morning people to dictate our work/school schedules, hmm? Is it because they get up before we do and beat us to all of the decision-making meetings?

"All those in favor of starting the work day before 10 raise your hands. Hey! It looks like everyone here is in favor of this proposition. That's surprising! I thought for sure that the night people would vote against it."

"Um, sir, we're holding this meeting at 7:30 am. None of the night people made it."

"Ah."

Well, let's not be bullied any longer. I say we decide to start the work day at 10:00 am. None of this starting at 7:00 am stuff. Night people, now is the time to unite. Here is my plan:

First of all, we deprive the morning people of their caffeine. I'm sure they wouldn't be so happy about mornings without their coffee.

Secondly...that's as far as I've gotten. I'll work more on the plan when it's not so early in the morning. And then we will conquer, and the world will be glorious. I mean, if all businesses decided to open at ten, it would be totally cool! We could all get a little more sleep or get a few things done around the house or whatever. Brilliant? Yes. I should rule the world. But only after 10 am.

NO, Katy. NO.

Once upon a time, I mentioned a few people who need a "No Girl"--someone to just say no to their bad ideas. Well, let me add Katy Perry to that list.

There are many times a No Girl would have been helpful for Katy. ("I think I'm going to marry Russell Brand." "No, Katy. No.") But I'm only going to address one.

Have you heard Katy's song Firework? I like it. It's catchy and has a nice message. However, have you seen the Firework music video? No? Behold! (You only need to watch the first minute or so to catch the "No" moment, though the whole video is weird.)



Now, children, can any of you guess which moment requires a no? Choose from one of the following options:

a) Shots of the city
b) Pool party
c) Family fight
d) THAT ONE PART WHERE FIREWORKS START SHOOTING OUT OF HER BOOBS.

Any guesses? D? Is that your final answer?

*Dora the Explorer Voice* VERY GOOD!

Honestly! What is going on? I get the concept--we're all special and have light within us. Yada yada. But is that really the best visual? Fireworks shooting out of our chests? Call me crazy, but I don't find that image very inspiring. To be honest, it reminds me of that scene from Austin Powers where the Go Go Girl Robots have machine guns in their chests....

Sorry. We're getting a little graphic today.

The point is that it's high time I make a business out of this No Girl thing. Everybody needs a No Girl (including me). I could be rich. RICH!

So, who wants to be the first person to hire me? Anyone, anyone? Willow Smith?

Well, Byron....

I work in a very small call center. In fact, there are certain times during the day when only one person is on the phone. Today, I got chewed out by someone who was on hold for too long. As I was apologizing to him and explaining that I was the only one answering phone calls at the moment, I couldn't help but think of :26 of this clip:




"Well, Byron, surprisingly, it's just me."

Is it weird that I think this clip is hilarious? Maybe it's the lack of sleep. 7:00 am is way too early for me to be functioning... *Twitch.*

The Other Dark Meat

Oh! Just to give you a little glimpse of what I've been doing for the last little while, here's the Demon Chicken trailer. I've written all the music for the film (including what you hear in the trailer), and I may or may not be the blue girl in this.... Come see it, my friends! Tickets are just three bucks, and it should be lots of fun. (How often do you get to go to a red carpet premier, anyway?) I will see you there!

Bears Have It So Easy.

I keep starting blog posts, attempting to make up for the hiatus I've taken from writing, but the perfectionist in me screams, "No! Not good enough! You have to do something epic to make up for your neglect!" That darn perfectionist. It's impossible for me to get anything done with her around. So, I've taken this moment to gag the perfectionist within and lock her in the closet, so to speak. Quick! Let's have a chat before she gets out!

How have y'all been? (Please feel free to verbalize your answer.) Wonderful, wonderful. I've been cold and tired, but other than that I'm fantastic. You know what I've discovered? Scraping the ice off my car is one of my least favorite activities ever, and doing it at 6:30 in the morning is hell. Oh, if only there were a way to hibernate through the winter....



Somebody get me some Hibernol, STAT!

Uh oh. Miss Perfectionist is starting to break out. I'll see you later.

Public Service Announcement #3

This month, I want us to work on eliminating this phrase:

"I like long walks on the beach."

Example: My name's Julianna, and I like long walks on the beach.

Why am I targeting this one, you may ask? BECAUSE I CAN'T LISTEN TO IT ANYMORE.

Here's the weird thing about this phrase: I'm sure it started out as a sincere way to introduce oneself on...say...dating service videos. And then it was overused to the point that people started saying it as a joke. Oh, and what a funny joke it was for people to introduce themselves that way at work and school and church and such. Har har har. And then the joke got less funny over the years as people continued to introduce themselves that way at work and school and church and such. Har har. And now it's decidedly UNfunny when people introduce themselves this way at work and school and church and such, but we feel obligated to give out at least one "Har".

No more. Let's do away with that final "Har".

If you are one of those hundreds of people that STILL thinks this is a clever way to introduce yourself, let me enlighten you. IT'S NOT. You might as well stand up and say, "My name is ______, and I like being unoriginal." (Ironically enough, it would be more original for you to say you like being unoriginal, but whatever.) And, if you are one of those hundreds of people that STILL laughs when someone introduces himself with the beach phrase, I beg you to stop encouraging this.

I submit that the next time someone tries to get a laugh by using this phrase, we all choose to stay completely silent. No laughter. If you can make a cricket chirping noise, do so. Feel free to glare at the person who uses the stale phrase. Make him feel so embarrassed that he will never say it or laugh at it ever again.

I know it sounds harsh, but it must be done.

Go forth, my people. Grab your literary pitchforks and slay the ogre that is "I like long walks on the beach"!

ERG!!!

On Saturday, I was lucky enough to be able to take the GRE. Ah, there's nothing like spending a gorgeous fall day trapped inside a small, dark testing center taking a mind-taxing test for four hours.

Actually, the test itself wasn't TOO bad. Except for the math part. So help me, I will never be able to figure out how to find the area of one shape circumscribed about another shape.


URG. I just about have an aneurysm when I look at those problems.

Anyway, the worst part of the whole test was actually the hoops I had to jump through BEFORE the test started. They don't allow you to have food or water in there, and they monitor how many breaks you take. They also literally make you turn your pockets inside out before you go in. I understand the principles behind this, but it's sad to me that we have gotten to this point as a society. We can't just treat people like adults. We have to treat everyone like disobedient children, because there are too many dirty, rotten cheaters.

Oh! But that wasn't the worst part. The test itself started with a tutorial about the computer. Literally, the first part of the tutorial said, "This is a mouse. This is how you use the mouse. Practice clicking the mouse." It then proceeded to teach you about all sorts of *difficult* skills like scrolling and other such complex computer functions.

What the what?

Let's think about this for a minute. The GRE is designed to assess the competency level of people who are getting ready to attend grad school. So, here I am, ready to be tested on whether or not I know the antonym of words like cosset and misanthropic, and whether or not I can solve 48 math questions in 45 minutes. Somehow, these skills are supposed to inform admissions officials about my ability to perform well in school. But the test-makers are assuming that there's a possibility that I won't know how to operate a mouse. AND THIS IS ACCEPTABLE??!

Call me crazy, but I think it's a lot more important for a potential grad school student to know how to perform basic computer functions, than it is for a potential grad school student to know what pulchritudinous means. (Frankly, if anyone ever uses that word in my presence, I will punch him in the face. "IT MEANS BEAUTIFUL!! JUST SAY BEAUTIFUL!!") If you don't know how to click a mouse, you are going to have a hard time anywhere, frankly.

This is just one more thing that bothers me about the whole world of academics. We are all tested on skills that aren't entirely applicable in real world situations, while USEFUL skills are neglected. I don't care if you can quote all of the words in the dictionary or do wonders with imaginary numbers. If you can't figure out how to navigate around a computer or carry on a conversation with human beings, you have some work to do.


Common sense, my dears. It's worth a lot more than that GRE. Or, it should be worth more, anyway.

Well, at least that part of my grad school prep is out of the way! Now it's on to other things. I'm on my way to Chicago this weekend to check out Columbia College, so I hope that all goes well.

And when I say "I hope that all goes well", I really mean, "I hope I don't get raped". (Thanks, Dad, for giving me a complex by telling me about the muggings that happen in Chicago. I love you.)

Wish me luck, my dears! And if I don't make it back, carry on the Hermit blogging without me.

Love you, mean it.

Jules