Atlas

I chose the above name for my fish. It works.

A Roommate

At last I share my room with another living organism -although one with a much smaller soul than mine. A fish, a Siamese Fighter, with a red body, blue tail and black eyes. He's a Delta, which means simply that his tail and fins fan out behind him and look uncannily like silk fabric. He is small and hardy and is swimming contentedly in my round, glass, 8 liter fish bowl. He's magnificent. He deserves a good name. I traded 15 dollars for him.

My thoughts in March.

Weddings. Communism. Expensive tea. One-world governments. Colored fabrics. Good weather. Orange juice. Dress patterns. Driving. Quentin Tarentino. Poetry. No more money. Numbers. Pen ink. Flowers. Allergies. House cleaning. The dictionary. Submarine sandwiches. Dry ice. Luciano Pavarotti. The Rwanda genocide. Nihilism. Bertrand Russell. Self-awareness. Sexism. Fairy tales. Paradoxes.

Some Kind of Wonderful

Why is it that everything has seemed to happen since I've been 16? Last year and the first 3 months of this one haven't been 'sweet' at all. I feel like part of a John Hughes film, only I'm not Ferris Bueller. Nothing ever goes right for me.

Swallowed

I feel like a giant tongue monster has caught me, tossed me behind his teeth and is incessantly swishing me around in his mouth. My life is a tangle of useless emotions and nihilism. Oh, and let's not forget school. That's probably the highlight.

2:22 PM

I can never think of anything to say. But here I am! I'm still alive.

The Wolfman

My eagerness to see this film dates back all the way to spring of 2008. I discovered the rumor of it through imdb.com, and was thrilled; being such a monster-movie fan.

So it was strange to finally see the film, since I had almost begun to think I would never see it. The original plan was to go with Tara, but when she was unable to come and my hopes seemed dashed, my mother played the hero. She took me herself.

We made it to the first matinee of it's release, and by then I was numb with excitement. You may think me strange or almost immature to be so eager for such a petty thing in the 'big picture', but I'm beginning to think I was made to enjoy, critique, show people, talk about and just adore movies. Anyway, when the lights dimmed, and the opening scene showed a man in the woods, hollering at 'someone' to show themselves, I knew it was going to be every monster movie ever. When the wolfman finally jumped at the man, tearing his face off, my mother squealed and pulled her coat over her head. I smiled and leaned back.

The film had a dark, gritty, Old England feel, which was perfect for what it was trying to portray. The plot wasn't amazing, but it followed the typical lines originally formed by The Wolfman of 1941, which gave it an excuse. Benicio Del Toro as the wolfman himself was perfect. The gore was intense and the effects and cinematography were good as well.

Overall, I'd give it a 4/10 critically, and a 8/10 for fulfilling expectations. I'm glad I saw it. Now to wait for Alice in Wonderland!