Domo Arigato, Ms. Roboto

Spotted another deficiency of mine today. I saw The Notebook with Lindsey (ten times better than the book, by the way, but still a tad too sappy for my tastes) and a theaterful of middle-aged women this afternoon. I heard sniffles barely fifteen minutes into the movie. Half an hour later, the sniffles had multiplied. By the last third of the film, there were outright sobs. And there I am, sitting there, watching, eyes completely dry. No muffled tears, no constricting chest. Just fine. Soul-less, heart-less, life-less, I'm not sure. But there must be something missing. Maybe I was really made and not born.

Information In The Right Hands

Man. A free download of a new Butch Walker song with my pre-order of Letters (oh yes), and we find out the title of the sixth Harry Potter book. All in the same day.
The song is called "All Falls Apart," is very good and even catchier, and has about a zillion copy-protection measures to ensure that you burn it onto CD no more than five times and transfer it to a device no more than three times and listen to it no more than fifteen times and only with your fingers in your ears while humming loudly so you don't hear it too well. Well, maybe that last one is a bit of an exaggeration, but really, is a Butch Walker b-side a matter of national security? And just who over at Sony has something against people putting good songs on mixes? These people are out to make my life harder; I know it. In any case, if you have any intention of purchasing Letters without me physically forcing you (I'm not above that, either), I would suggest you pre-order it because A) you get it 20% off, which just about makes up for shipping costs, B) you get the free download, which normally I'd just burn onto a CD for you, but I want to preserve my five free burns, and C) you get a free bonus CD with it with some other b-sides and live stuff on it. I know, it's none of my business what music you're listening to...but if you're listening to bad music (which I know you do when you think nobody can hear you), I really feel obligated to plug Butch Walker some more. C'mon, humor me.
As for the second bit of news, JK Rowling announced on her website that the title of the sixth book will be Harry Potter & The Half Blood Prince, which I think sounds like a book you'd order off those order-forms made of really thin paper in the 3rd grade, but hey, at least we're one step closer to book six. Still no release date, of course, but my uneducated guess is Summer '05. I have my reasons.

Sheer Incompetence

I don't really know how to do things. I'm being both vague and very general saying "things" because I really mean just about any and everything. I don't know how to to anything.
I went to the library after class today because my professor is an inconveniencing lunatic. Basically, the edition of the book he wanted us to use for my Ethics class is out of print, and instead of just having us buy current editions of the book and making do with that, he photocopied the entire 350-page book and put the photocopy of it on reserve at the library for us to check out and make copies of ourselves. And don't think this 350-page behemoth can just be put in the feeder to copy itself while you, the copier, sit back and relax: oh, no. It's been copied so many times that it's bent and causes paper jams, so you get to copy the entire thing by hand. Put page in, press Start, take page out. And so on.
In any case, I went to the library to do this today because we're supposed to start reading the copied material tonight as homework. So of course, I couldn't figure out how to work the copier. The Copy Services guy explained it to me very simply, but for reasons completely beyond me, I didn't hear a word he said, and thus had to ask him to explain it again. Even then it confused me. And afterwards, I had to rebind the original photocopy. It was just like putting papers into a three-ring binder, but apparently even this is out of my range of abilities. I wound up putting sections in upside down and out of order and having to go back and fix it, not remotely understanding whether I had to put something in upside down or rightside up or backwards in order for the final product to be correct. Finally, I had to return the bound copy to the Reserves desk--couldn't find it. Found it--couldn't find the book return. Found the book return--couldn't figure out how to return the book.
It worked out fine in the end, if you're worried. I paid my $20 and spent my hour to copy the book, and returned it in time to what I assume is the right place. You're breathing a sigh of relief right now, I'm sure.
My next task: figuring out how to mail a letter from here. It's tougher than it sounds.

It's All Right

I wish life were more like Saved By The Bell.
I mean, this is pretty much something I wish all the time, as I'm sure most of you do, so it's no big surprise. But specifically, I'm talking about the little soundtrack they put behind that show. The "ooooooOOOOOOoooooohs!" and "AAAAAaaawwwwwwws!" they played at every opportunity. Mainly because, that soundtrack always got so excited over nothing. Zack would look at Kelly and suddenly--"OOOOoooohhh!" Slater would tap Jessie on the shoulder and then--"ooooOOOOhhhh!" It bordered on ridiculous, but in real life I think it would be encouraging. The cute guy next to me in Ethics class hands me the attendance sign-in sheet, and I thank him--"Oooooooh!" I bump into a hot guy in the dining hall at lunch, and he excuses himself--"Wooooooo!" It would make me feel better to know that at least somebody found the oh-so-subtle (in fact, practically non-existent) relationships in my life to be terribly exciting.
"Amy's life is filmed in front of a live studio audience"--now all I need is corporate sponsorship. "Amy's life--brought to you by Kellogs Frosted Flakes! Now part of a complete breakfast." Ah, that's the life.

My Far-Off Flame

Tonight was the third night of Athfest, which I didn't think I'd be attending, since everybody I talked to said they couldn't go or were going home for Father's Day. Somehow, though, I wound up finding people to go with, and had a surprisingly good night. I got there just in time for the end of Left Front Tire's set, which was quickly followed by Bain Mattox, of course. They only got to play five songs, because I guess everybody was playing short sets, but it was really good and it was nice to see them and talk to them since they're taking July off, thus I won't get to see them very often for awhile.
Fastforward a couple of hours later: at a bar that, according to someone who works there, "doesn't have a name" and "is only for special events," there formed a band, a supergroup, if you will, that was spur-of-the-momently titled G.G. Rubbins & The Easy-Bake Ovens, consisting of Bain Mattox of Bain Mattox, Amanda Kapousouz of Tin Cup Prophette, and Matt and Evan Bivins of Jump, Little Children. It was like it was All-Star night at the no-name bar or something. So for a long-ass time (I have no recollection of what time they started, so I'm approximating here) they played a mixture of their own songs from their own bands and traditional Irish folk songs. Let me just say, it was very, very cool. Of course, I most loved the opportunity to hear Bain songs such as the "Like A Prayer" cover, "Peripheral People," and the elusive "Far-Off Flame" in such a different setting, but it was really cool to hear Amanda's songs and y'know, Irish folk isn't half bad. The Jump boys brought along twenty or thirty of their hardcore-est fans (the majority of which seem to be lesbians who wear long flowy skirts, for some reason), and there were a couple of us there from the Bain camp, and I have no idea who Amanda's fans are, but I'm sure they were represented as well. So, I don't know, it was just not an experience you get every day, fifty people in a nameless bar sitting on the floor and singing along to all sorts of songs 'til the wee hours of the morning. It's things like this that really make me believe I like Athens a hell of a lot more than I actually do.

Normal Activity

Finished reading The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks this afternoon, as Lindsey and I were planning on seeing it tonight, only to discover that it doesn't come out 'til next weekend. I have no idea how we got the impression that it was coming out today, but in any case, we'll definitely be going to see it when it does come out, if only because that book stole several hours of my life that I'd like back, and if retrieving those hours requires sitting through a bearded Ryan Gosling pretending to be in love with the bitch from Mean Girls, then so be it. I was going to write something more detailed on The Notebook, likely a very bad review and a strong recommendation that you run far, far away from any and all Nicholas Sparks books, if they're all anything like this one, but the emotion has passed and I no longer care. I got most of my negative emotions about the book out while ranting about it to Bidwell over lunch, anyway, so I'm fine now.
Instead of seeing that, we saw The Stepford Wives, which I'd read terrible reviews about but thought was very good for what it was. It was funny and entertaining and had at least one plot twist that I didn't totally expect, and while I certainly wouldn't call it Nicole Kidman's finest hour, I will always have a crush on Matthew Broderick. He's just perpetually cute.
We browsed Borders 'til they kicked us out at closing after the movie, and I wound up buying Long Day's Journy Into Night by Eugene O'Neill and The Real Thing by Tom Stoppard, as we have to read a play for my playwriting class by next week and I couldn't choose between the two. Anybody who's read either one have any thoughts on the issue?
We ended the evening in Wal-Mart (the redneck Wal-Mart, not the regular one), wondering why they had so many shelves of "Inspirational" (read: religious) literature, picking some up to skim through and discovering such truisms as "Don't do anything with your boyfriend you'd be embarrassed to tell Jesus about." I'd be embarrassed to tell Jesus if my boyfriend and I (and this is all so very hypothetical, you know) listened to 95.5 The Bee-yat in the car on the way home; does that count?
I bought a bottle of Coke 2, C2, whatever you want to call it. It just tastes wrong. I see this going the way of Pepsi One and disappearing from the shelves after a few months.
Finally, MySpace.com rocks me. Man, the internet is addictive.

As I Take Off My Heart Won't Stop

Today is a day full of excitement, it seems, though not for you, just for me. I woke up late, which was not exciting, but then as I was getting ready, I happened upon something that was: the new Butch Walker site. I know! It's just so pretty and just chock full of information. There're all the lyrics from the new CD (08/24/2004) and even the cover art, a new bio, new everything, so go check it out if you know what's good for you.
The most exciting part, though, was after I got back from classes and was looking at the parts of the site I hadn't had time to see before I had to leave. And there they were, on the Tour Dates page:

08/26/2004: Athens, GA: 40 Watt
08/27/2004: Atlanta, GA: Variety Playhouse

I nearly fainted. So that's a Thursday and a Friday, after school has started for us UGA kids but possibly before school starts for a lot of you other-college kids, so you're all going with me to at least one of the shows. Or at least, all of you that I like. Which is nearly all of you. Probably. Well, most of you. 60%, maybe? I don't know. Ish.
So yes, all of today's considerable excitement comes from Butch Walker, but so be it: I'll take it where I can get it.

Do You Want To Be

Not surprisingly, last night was funnn. Tom and Pennington and I went to see Bain Mattox at Vinyl in Atlanta, of course. The show itself was really awesome, better that usual. I'm really loving all the new songs, some of which they say they're recording soon. After the set was over, the rest of the band left the stage and Bain stayed up there, unplugged his acoustic, stepped out into the middle of the audience, and sang "Closer To Me," which if you haven't heard is an absolutely beautiful song, even moreso when the entire audience is hushed watching him sing it unplugged and acoustic. Very, very nice.
The first opener, Part-Time Heroes, sounded identical to Matchbox Twenty, so since I kind of like Matchbox Twenty, I liked them. The second opener, however...Five Star Iris. I've seen them before and it's just generic alternative, so I knew that going in. I didn't know, however, that the lead singer was going to make fun of us, from the stage. Nicole and I were standing in the front just listening; we weren't getting into it, obviously, because we don't really love the music. We were just standing there politely listening, and on occasion we'd have our arms crossed, or have one arm crossed across our stomach, or be standing in some other position which the singer must've thought made us look bored and bitchy. So between song's he'd mimic our postures and sneer at us. Which was real cute, let me tell you. Yeah, buddy, that's how you make new fans. Nicole was a whole lot angrier than I was, and after the show wrote him a nasty note on his set list and threw it at him as we left. So, yeah, not a big fan of them.
But it's okay! We saw George's ass, which is not something you see every day, y'know. And both Bain and George tried to barter with me for my t-shirt--Bain wanted to purchase it from me and George wanted to trade me for it--which just further proves that shirts that cost $2.60 at Goodwill are the greatest. And after the show and a quick stop at Kroger, we sat up in Pennington's apartment and ate Ben & Jerry's and watched Friends 'til about 6 in the morning, which would explain just why I'm so sleepy as I write this. Hmm.

So Much More Than That

Most of you don't care. I'm sure a few of you would be willing to wager that none of you care. But there may be just a couple of people out there who are bored, or are curious, or have relatively good taste in music, or anything like that, so, for those few: you can watch Butch Walker's new video for the first single, "Mixtape." The quality is pretty awful, but deal with it. It's probably the only time you'll get to see the video, as I don't expect TRL to be all over the new Butch stuff. Personally I think it's a really cool video, and I am in love with Butch's hair in it--best Butch!Hair yet, I say.
That is all. Proceed ignoring.

Back To School

I've been meaning to write something, really, I have. Not that I've been missed in my absence from blogging, but I truly have been meaning to update. I can't even say I've been busy, because nothing important happened today. Or any other day, for that matter. I just wonder what to say, I guess.
Well, I am in Athens again. It's nice to be back, I suppose. My room is enormous, and since I have no roommate, it's even better. Plus it's nice to have my own bathroom. I've tried to decorate as best I can, but the room still has the look and feel of a prison cell. There's really no sense in going all out with the decor, anyway, since I'll only be here for two months or so.
I've done very little since I got up here--just basically set up my room and ran errands and grocery shopped and stuff. Something that struck me as odd: last night, two boys voluntarily watched Baz Luhrmann's Romeo & Juliet with me--they even picked it out. Two perfectly normal boys who could care less about direction or anything like that. Two boys who even shushed me when I would talk during parts they liked. I was a little surprised, but hey, I liked it. I even got them to agree to watch Moulin Rouge with me later this summer, although we were drinking at the time, so maybe that wasn't a promise they intend on keeping. In any case, it was a fun and strange evening.
That's all that's really going on. Tomorrow I have vague plans to hang out with Lindsey, and then Thursday classes start so I'll be busy doing that. I have high hopes for this summer, but I'm going to need to make some more friends. I need to make some female friends that live in this dorm, because the boys I'm friends with are just not going to cut it all summer long. Even if they will watch Moulin Rouge with me.

Something Wicked

Saw Harry Potter tonight. Was very pleased. I definitely think it was much better than the first two movies. The first two were good, but they were basically just like, "Hey, look at this, it's Harry Potter! Ooh, Christmas! Ooh, colors! Ooh, happiness! Ooh, villians!" whereas this one was more artistic, darker, and I think suited the third book very well. The third book, as some of you know, is my very favorite. I'd even say it ranks up there with my favorite books of all time, not just of the Harry Potter series. This alone, I thought, meant that the movie would have a lot to live up to, and I was partly right. Like pretty much everyone else, I think they left out some very important parts (Hello, what's with the whole "let's never bring up much of anything about Animagi" thing? Isn't that a little bit important for, oh, say, the whole series?) but on the whole I think it was a good representation of the book. The thing is, we decided that the movie was an excellent supplement to the book, but a terrible replacement. I truly don't see how anyone could go into the movie not having read the book and really understand it. And I don't mean merely that they couldn't grasp the subtle complexities of plot, I mean how can they not be horribly confused? I was a little confused after having read the book six times! (And on a sidenote, how can anybody who really likes the movies not go read the books? I mean, it takes about two days. Literacy, people!) But I guess that's their loss, then.
Overall, though, I thought the movie was really good. I'd like to go see it again, as I'm sure I missed some things (and is it just me, or have all those boys gotten cute?! Pennington and I spent a good deal of the movie whispering to each other, "Twins!!!").
And just to let you know, my parents are truly dreadful people and are the sole reason that I really cannot wait the day and a half until I can finally be in Athens and not here. Ahem.

Goodnews

So guess what.

Guess!

No.

Nope, not that either.

Fine, I give in. So...I totally have my own room this summer! Well, we're not sure. More like 90% positive. And I already knew that my summer room has a private bath, so that's my own room and my own bathroom. This is cause for celebration!
Well, I'm excited, at least. Even if it does mean I need to go buy carpet and a mini-fridge.
So I'm off to pack or unpack or make a list or watch a movie or read a book or some such nonsense. G'night!