I understand that movies are fictional and created for the enjoyment of the masses. "Transformers 2" definitely appealed to the masses, but for anyone with a brain and a simple spark of intelligent thought in that brain— it lacked the general necessity that every story of any kind must have. Quite frankly, it didn't make sense. And that, my friends, is sloppy story-telling.

Now, I could go into the plethora of plot holes or dissect inconsistencies with the first "Transformers" movie, but it seems that all the other movie critic bloggers have beaten me to it. While reading the rantings of these Eagle Eyes, I also happened to read the comments that readers posted. While some readers agreed full-heartedly with the critical authors, others actually criticized the critics for being to critical (umm... that's their jobs)! Many of the comments boasted that the author needed to get a life, stop sucking the fun out of the movie, and even defended the loosely-pulled-together "Transformer 2" plot as being for kids and just for fun, so not to be taken seriously.

See, what confuses me about this mindset is how they can even begin to call "Transformers 2" a kids movie. The robots curse, many scenes on-campus are overtly sexual, there is so much "balls humor" that kids don't get AND it's 2 and a half hours long. NO CHILD can last in a movie theatre for 2 and a half hours, at least not parents that still have a trace of sanity left. Also, even if it is a kids movie, which it is not, that does not defend the lack of concise and sensible story-telling.

While sitting in the movie theater, watching the debauchery and absorbing dog-humping and the giant ass shot, I truly felt insulted. I felt like the movie, and all it's clichés and forced humor, was an insult to my intelligence.

I mean, for the love of Mike, how dumb do you think movie-goers are, Michael Bay? I know what makes sense, and what doesn't. What's funny, and what's not. You took a beautifully crafted story with likeable characters, a giant nerd and mass following alike, a guaranteed blockbuster of the summer and gave us— crap.

Maybe he got too cocky? Maybe he was just eager to please? Or maybe he had no idea what he was doing, so instead he put just a whole bunch of crap together that people usually like...

Violence: check
Action: check
Sexuality: check
Funny new characters that hold no true relevance to the plot: check
Over-the-top crazy mom: check
The most references to testicles possible in one movie: check
Exotic location: check
Lots and Lots of slow-motion running: check
Dream/heaven sequence (which made me laugh out loud by its ridiculousness): check

Note to the Prime Gods— less is more. The movie had too much going on at one time, without a concrete focus. It's like an ADHD 13-year-old boy wrote the script.

Now, I can't blame the actors. Shia Lebouef was just as likeable as ever and Megan Fox (which I've already claimed as one of my girl crushes— the other being Marisa Miller) did what she did best— pouted her lips and looked good while running. She is eye-candy, the main thing she does well. We know it, and so does she. So it's ok.

What I didn't know was how utterly disappointed in this movie I would be. Trust me, I didn't want to feel this way, but my personal integrity as a free-thinking individual forces me to repel "Transformers 2." I like to be challenged and enjoy movies, not be disgusted by them.

Sorry it's been so long since I've last updated (Kelli). I'm done with college and in the process of packing up the last four years of my life. It's weird, I'm not too too attached to the trailer, but I will miss it since it did define my life here recently. The transition into college, late night doing homework, watching movies, etc., life with Rayce, life with and without Jena as a roommate, Kelli as a roommate, cooking experiments, not cleaning... lol.

I just don't know how I managed to fit so much crap in my room! It's amazing. What is more amazing (/pathetic) is how much I'm not throwing away. I grow emotional attachment to things very easily. It's sad really. Like the frog stuffed animal sitting by my computer right now. I remember buying it at Excerds (yea, before CVS bought them out) during that red and roses time after new years and before Valentine's Day. The frog is little, with a little red bow on her head (the bow makes her female, try to keep up) and a "Kiss Me" heart on her butt. It's on her butt- like to kiss her ass. Yea, I'm keeping that sucker FOREVER!

I found an old diary that started in high school and ended two days before I met Rayce. It documented the highs and lows of high school and a past relationship. I like to think that after I met Rayce I didn't have any need for a diary to deep my thoughts of distress and confusion, because I was neither distressed nor confused once he came into my life. Gushy, I know. Sorry.

I also found the reason I got a B in my Ethics class this semester. The class required three books written by three different philosphers. By the end of the semester, of course, I had lost the third book. A friend of mine in the class said I'd probably find it when I was moving, a statement I forgot about until I found the book in a pile of papers on my dresser in my room. I'll also be keeping that book forever, lol.

My room is still a mess, but Kelli's room is completely empty and it makes me really sad. Even though we barely saw each other while we lived together and she didn't know how to work the AC, dishwasher or empty the lent trap in the dryer (lol, I love you Kelli), she was still a really good friend and a joy to run into in the kitchen from time to time. I wish we would have been able to be roommates some other year besideds our senior year, which turned out to be much harder than either of us expected. Maybe we would have been able to hang out/ simply see eachother more. But it was still fun— and we kicked butt during kickboxing!

On a brighter note— I managed to sell the giant tacky flamingo picture in my living room. It's 64 inches by 50 inches, basically huge. I sold it to the mom of the same buy that made the comment about my Ethics book. Lol. As for the rest of the trailer— I still have my bathroom, the rest of my closset, the kitchen, the living room and the rest of the random crap still annoyingly cluttering my room.
 

So to my trailer, I have to say goodbye. I'm moving on to bigger and better things, but I will miss the sound of rain on your tin roof and the sense of sanctuary I found when walking through the door after spending a weekend/month at my parents' house. I will not miss the lack of cell phone reception and having to talk on my phone near a window or door. I will also not miss that drip from the front porch roof RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE DOOR... Kinda defeats the purpose of having a porch when it rains if you get your hair wet just as you walk through the door.

Now to Illinois!!! Oh wait, I have to finish packing first... Damn.

I just wanted to share with you guys some observations I've gathered since January.

UNCOMMON

This is not common for Louisiana. It picture was taken in January during the "deep freeze." The high for that day was like 30, which is unheard of in Louisiana. It was simply amazing.

COMMON

This, unfortunately, is common in Louisiana. It was taken in the parking lot of my local Wal Mart. Notice how the person originally misspelled "Baby" and almost misspelled "come," because you can tell the "e" is an after-thought. "Bak," well... there's no saving it. It was simply hilarious.

I know, I know— it’s been like two... maybe three... months. I apologize. I’m seriously trying to graduate and was a significant member in the small staff that produces a 300 page book. Yearbook I mean, and if anything could go wrong— it did. But that’s over now, so I have time for myself.

I would like to share an experience with you that happened to me over the weekend. No, it’s not the experience I had when I accidently pissed in a men’s bathroom (although, that first-time experience is probably way more interesting than what I am about to tell you). This experience is close to my heart, because it affected me WAY more than I thought it would.

I thought I lost my camera.

Now this may not seem significant to you, but it was to me and I had no idea it would affect me as strongly as it did. I’ve been having my digital camera since the fall semester of my sophomore year. That’s two years. It has been with me everywhere, my purse companion through the ups and downs of life.

It’s been with me through the woo-stage of my boyfriend and my relationship, Phoenix, St. Louis, New York City, Washington D.C., Dam Runs, lunches with friends, park playtime, Student Media Shin-digs, etc. That’s a lot.

Her name is Black Betty, b/c I like the song and she’s black (and because I like to name things after Rock n Roll songs, except for Phoenix). She fits perfectly in my purse. Her “trashcan” button doesn’t work and the battery door doesn’t stay closed all the time because Phoenix chewed on her. The strap on her corner is actually broken and held together by a huge glob of super-glue. She’s special.

And this weekend, I thought I’d lost her.

It was strange of me not to have Black Betty with me, especially when I went to Lafayette to see Jeff Dunham in the Cajun Dome. That seems like a moment I should have had her with me. So I figured I’d left her at my house, but I couldn’t find her when I got back here.

I have moments when I think I lose things where I don’t look too-too hard in the fear that I’ve really lost it. I did that for like 3 months when I lost my Minnie Mouse watch until I finally concluded that I lost her. Luckily I found her like 6 months later.

So I just glanced around my room and living room and bathroom and car... But I had this gut feeling that she was gone. I even called the bowling alley where I bowled a 103 (oh yea, 103... 3rd game, but w/e) last Friday, thinking maybe I left her there. But no.

So I had a panic-y feeling in my stomach Tuesday and Wednesday when I’d think of my camera. I still had pictures on her that I wanted to post on here (which I will, I promise). I still had pictures from Gavin’s last marching band performance... So much... All gone.

But then a friend told me she’d seen my camera in the newsroom... And it all came rushing back. I’d left it in there on Friday, after proofing the book. I had her out of my purse to put a picture on the server. Yes, I suddenly remembered.

It’s strange, the sense of relief that washes over a person when he or she finds something they thought was lost. Even more significant is the feeling of relief that washes over a person when he or she finds something that MEANS A LOT to them that they thought was lost.

It somewhat shocked me how much emotion I attached to my camera. I really didn’t think my camera meant that much to me. It’s kind of like the pinky ring I wear all the time. I always have it with me, and take it for granted most/all of the time. But the few times I’ve lost this ring (twice, and I’ve found it usually 30 minutes after realizing I couldn’t find it), I feel like I can’t breathe.

That just goes to show how much I attach to items. My pinky ring, my Minnie Mouse watch, my camera— I’ve had all of these items for a very long time and therefore have attached significant memories to them.

If my camera had broken, I would have been sad, but not panic-y like I was when I lost it. It breaking is different than me losing it. It would have completed its course, lived and died, if it had broken. But it just suddenly disappearing makes it feel like it was stolen from me— except it’s my fault.

Moral of the story— don’t leave your camera in the newsroom.

No, just kidding. Maybe it should be to recognize the personal attachment you have to items, so you don’t realize it only after it’s gone.

You know, the whole “not realizing how much something means to you until after it’s gone and you can’t have it.” (Insert past experience, either romantic or platonic, here) That. 

I really believe this world would be much more peaceful if people learned how to communicate properly with each other, or at least realize the importance of communication. Most problems are the result of a lack of communication— being aware that a lack of communication is the real problem at hand and having the patience to deal with it would make for a happier world for all of us.

My mom and sister got in an argument that, in my opinion, was the result of improper communication. The fault was on both sides, but neither one of them are patient enough to work it out. Momma gets on her “momma podium” and doesn’t know when to stop and my sister gets too emotional and just storms off in a huff without properly expressing why she’s so upset. And I’m stuck in the middle trying to mediate. My thing is that they just need to have a grown up discussion, with my sister doing most of the talking for a change and standing up for herself.

It made for a horrible Christmas Eve night and a somewhat uncomfortable Christmas Day. So to all reading this— find the patience to really talk to a loved one, even if it seems like the most difficult thing in the world to do. You owe it to them not to give up, and it will strengthen your relationship in the long run.

I manipulated a picture of myself in Illustrator to create the image on the right. I did it on Christmas Eve while bored out of my mind.

So while I’m bored out of my mind at my parents’ house over my winter break, I realized that it’s been a freakishly long time since I’ve updated my blog. The month of November was pretty tough. I was so absorbed with school that I didn’t even run. Dude, that’s bad.

But I must inform you all (what three?) of my most recent obsession. Well, it’s not really an obsession, it’s just my most recent crave— The All American Rejects.

You must understand that they are really the only band that I’ve followed pretty closely since the end of my freshman year of high school. I claim that they’re the only vice I’ve kept since my high school days, which is mostly because they have yet to disappoint me. (I love/d Linkin Park, but their most recent album disappointed me— so AAR is on the top of the list).

They’re new album came out Dec. 16, so I’m still in the honeymoon stage. Seriously, I look forward to going somewhere in my car JUST so I can listen to their CD. I even joined their website. I feel like the only 20-something year old in the SEA of 13-16 year old girls who improperly use ellipsis over and over again and refer to themselves as Emo... yea... like... yea.

Anyhoo, what I most respect about AAR is how they grow artistically with each album. Their albums have the same “sound” but improve. They’ve yet to get themselves in a box, which is sometimes hard to do in the music business.

My most recent rave about AAR is their Britney Spears “Womanizer” rendition. OMG, it’s so good. First of all— it’s creative. They use a little accordion, the clink of beer bottles, an acoustic guitar and tambourines. That’s it. And it sounds better than Britney’s version. Well, it’s pretty obvious that they have some spare time on their hands to mess around to such an extent to produce such a wide range of sounds.

I also love it because they’re branching out. It’s not their usually kind of music, and it’s is extremely creative. Plus, it’s freakin hilarious that AAR decided to cover “Womanizer.” Check out the Interscope Records' AAR page to see what I mean.

You know, I've just come to the point in my scholastic career that I just really don't want to do homework. Seriously—no more. Zip, ziltch. I realize that in my senior year in college, I think I’ve done more homework than in any other semester.

I’m not much of a homework person. Since I’m a journalism major class “assignments” do not usually add up to homework. Like if I have to work on a story or I have to work on a flyer or something. If it’s useful towards my major and consists of some kind of writing, I usually don’t consider it homework. I guess it’s because I have to do so much other kind of writing for yearbook and the newspaper that I don’t consider it too strenuous. Let me break down what I consider homework.

1. Papers (English or research) that demand a type of format and a limited number of pages. Whoever thought the longest paper I’ve ever written in my college career would be towards my minor (freakin Art History I). While I do enjoy writing the papers and sometimes the research that goes along with it, this is undoubtedly considered homework.

2. Reading assignments. I hate reading assignments. If you’re a good enough teacher, I should only have to breeze through the book, not read paragraphs over in order to understand it (freakin statistics). I also have a lot of reading for my online English class. I remember the last English class I took was an in-class course and was more of a lecture, where Dr. Pritts stood at the podium and told us what he thought of the story. With my online English class we have a crap-load of reading assignments and must respond to them online. This process if very tedious, and while I enjoy the essays I read, I don’t particularly like the fact that I HAVE to read them. Oh, I gave up on reading along with Art History. If his tests were more geared towards the chapters and not towards memorizing the paintings, maybe I’d feel a need to.

3. Homework exercises, like when a teacher assigns problems from the back of the chapters to work. I get this all the time with Statistics. I understand the need for them, but that doesn’t make them less annoying.

I probably seem like such a whiner to some of you hard-core college kids, but as a student journalist— I’ve got enough to do. I still need to write three more RSO stories for the yearbook and must catch up on the two weeks of reading I completely ignored for my online English class.

I feel like at 21 years old, I just want to start doing what I love and not jumping through hoops to graduate. I understand homework is an essential part (not as important as teachers seem to think) of schooling, but enough is enough. Gosh, it’s going to be so hard to get back into the homework gig in grad school after taking a break for a while to work. Hopefully I’m better at managing my time then than I am now.