death of a ghost movie

i saw a movie that made me physically angry earlier this week.  was it about human oppression?  no.  was it about the plight of woman?  nope.  people punching babies?  negative.

this movie was "death of a ghost hunter".  another in a long string of scary movies using a hand held camera.  this one is about a ghost hunter who is hired to do a 3 night investigation in a seemingly haunted house.  she never makes it out.  it is supposedly based on a true story.  we know all of the information contained in the movie from the ghost hunter's journals.  

blah, blah, blah...

i should care about this.  i really like ghost movies, especially ones that are supposed to be based on a true story.  especially those with tiny child ghosts.   however, the movie is so horribly made, i stopped caring after about minute 4.

the main reason for my anger is the "film's" triple narration.  they have constant vocal narration during the movie.  if you still don't get what's going on, the person is actually doing the action while the voice is saying it.  if you still don't get it, they write it on the screen for you.

so, if you hear the voice saying the ghost hunter is interviewing a woman named rosalind, you can see her doing the interview, and they write "interview with rosalind" on the screen.  

i can only assume they made this movie for the mentally challenged ghost enthusiast.

this triple guidance continues throughout the movie.  

if you are courageous enough to make it all the way through the movie (if you have braved the perpetual frustration this movie brings with it), the ending is convoluted and long.  it recaps the  beginning of the movie while trying to creatively weave in the ghost hunter's fate.  

i don't have enough energy to go into detail about this.  let's just say that things are explained to such an extent that it actually brings up more questions than it answers. oh, and the child ghost comes and says hi.  hooray?

i don't care that the ghost hunter or her colleagues died.  it would seem their deaths should be their punishment for inflicted us with their horrible performances and story lines.

this isn't a typical review that informs readers with the director's name or the actor's names or where it was filmed.   

it is merely a warning to stay away from this dvd.  this movie is the bottle of poisonous cleaner under the sink.  i can only tell you to stay away from it and hope for the best.

a couple of bandwagons i fell off of...

1) michael phelps...i just can't jump on this one (the idea...i would for sure jump on the guy).  they (most publications) are calling him the "greatest olympian ever"  most gold medals won...yup.  sexy swimmer...you bet.  greatest olympian?  i freaking beg to differ.  and i bet some ripped greeks from a couple of hundred years ago would too.  am i being a little too nit-picky here?  i don't think so.  

but if you want to talk about it, i will be here in my apartment eating wheaties and im'ing mary lou retton.  give me a call.

2) chicago olympics...i am from chicago.  i love chicago.  it is home.  but, when this city can't even agree on how to do the annual budget for schools, transit, and, well, the city, i don't think they are ready to tackle how to handle a few billion dollars for an event millions will attend. 

it would be great to be this close to the olympics.  i will probably never get a chance to be this close to it ever again in my life.  however, i am simply worried that the city of chicago will end up being like an electrical socket that already has about 10 extra things plugged into it.  so, when everyone gets all excited and shoves in the pretty twinkle lights of the olympics, the socket catches fire.  

and, while we're on this topic, lest us forget what happened the last time chicago had a huge world event in its house...nudge...nudge..."devil in the white city"...cough.

just give this one to rio.  south america has never had an olympics.  they are due.  and, maybe by the time the the next sign up sheet is posted for olympic host cities, chicago will be ready.

until then, i will just keep politely turning down the "chicago olympics" stickers people offer me on the street.   

starjerks

this might sound cliche, but i got really annoyed at the barista at starbucks tonight.  

i ordered my tall/non-fat/vanilla latte (a usual bev), and set my feet at the corner of the counter to await my order.  well, everyone else got their drinks, so i knew my was up next.  i see the guy reach for the jug of whole (not skim, not 2%, not soy...but whole) milk and pour it in can to steam up.  i find this weird, so i subtley ask, "so, is my non-fat vanilla latte coming up next?"  he says yes.  

long story short, he makes my drink with the whole milk...hands me the freaking cup with N-V-L written clearly on it.  

at this point, i am so bewildered and fear being looked on as "girly" that i just take the drink.  

i don't finish the drink.  

this annoys me for the following reasons:

1)  whole milk tastes like smashed fat to me.  i enjoy skim milk...always have. 

2)  look, let's be honest, whole milk is not great for you nutrition wise...unless it is the 1800's and you are trying to fight off malnutrition (of course, that could go for those that are suffering from malnutrition today too...touche)

3)  you didn't give me what i ordered.  period.

4)  i didn't have the balls to speak up about my annoyance with this while i was in the store.

5)  it is f'ing starbucks.

i like caribou coffee.  they listen to me there.  they have trivia.  they have soothing dark wood fixtures and less homeless people.  

press hats

it has long been referenced...

i am going to graduate school.  it starts in early september.  i am going to roosevelt university to get a masters in journalism, emphasis in media criticism/radio.

what prompted this? (one might ask)  well, fear...hope...his girl friday...npr...jansport...take your pick.  it was just time.  

i will still be performing when i am able to.  for me, this is not giving up on one dream for another.  it is just me expanding my choices.

there is the dreamer part of me that likes to see myself staying up late at my computer to meet my deadline or drinking a ton of coffee while debating the latest topics on my radio show.  all with biting wit and odd interjections.

it's kind of like the movie "fletch", but with less chevy chase...and more costumes.  

paper pencils

i went today with my friends meredith and tracy to help get tracy's classroom ready for her school year.  she teaches reading at a middle school.  a really 1920's looking school with remnants of ghosts and the movie a christmas story. 

coming from a long tradition of helping my mom set up her classroom for school, this was great fun for me.  it was a morning of going through numerous copies of hatchet and other newberry award winners.  we found several dusty copies of babysitter's club books (special adventure series).

i think a particularly sad note was realizing that all the old books about the solar system would have to be disposed of because of poor pathetic pluto.  

sorry pluto...nobody blames you.

roll over

i have been sleeping way too much.  ever since camp ended, i have been in a permanent comatose state.  this fine for a few days.  the body needs to recuperate after 3 months of very little sleep.  however, i think i am over doing it.  

truthfully, the body only needs about 6 or 7 hours a night.  at least that is really all i need.  12 hours a night is just leaving me groggy.

so, to change this, i am embarking on a quest to make myself sleep less.  yoga class, getting up and taking myself out to breakfast, whatever.  i just need to not spend every moment before grad school starts in september hunkered down in my bed.

more coffee.  

facebook

hey remember when people got facebook because they were looking to avoid the barrage of requests from people that they didn't know from myspace.

well, it has started to creep into facebook, too.  this is frustrating for me.  i was one of the 10 or 15 americans that refused to ever open a personal myspace account.  it just creeped me out that this internet version of a  yearbook's back page would define me.

so, after much thought, i did facebook.  i like it.  i like getting contacted by people i haven't spoken to since 10th grade.  it is like seeing someone you haven't seen in a long time on the street and waving hi.  no, awkward conversation where you pretend to care about their job or where they are now.  just a friendly, how ya doing?, then you move on with your day.

what i don't like...people who know me through about 15 degrees of seperation.  "what?  you worked with someone who once was friend with someone who checked my mom out at the lone oak super-valu grocery store? and they you heard that i had a facebook account and lived in chicago...and you have a 3rd cousin that lives here, so you thought you would reach out?  great..."

ignore.

is this harsh?  in my opinion, no.  it is just my way of keeping my facebook from becoming myspace.

because if i start confirming everything that comes knocking at my door, i am going to find myself  facebook friends with some girl named tiff 156 who likes to wear things from hot topic and who answers the question "who is your favorite comedian" with "my breast is hot for you".  because i don't think that has ever been a legitimate comic.

welcome to the 21st century

i finally got home internet.  no, not piggy backing off someone's unlocked signal home internet, but honest i'm making monthly payments home internet.  

it feels good.  i can now browse urban outfitters and google people i know at one in the morning without judgement.

it also means i get to blog more.  so, be looking for that.

that means you durbin.  i know you are checking to see if i am contributing anything new on this.

yay!

wave as the bus pulls away

well, camp is over.  i officially made it.  it has left me with some paychecks (great!), lessons learned, and vicious tan lines.  i have learned that i really enjoy teaching kids drama and would like to do it on a more indepth level.  

however, i have also learned that drama at summer camp is for fun.  not for the making of thespians.  sure, a few kids may have gotten a taste for theater, but most of them just left thinking "hey, drama games are fun.  i can pretend to be a monkey better than anyone i know."

and that is ok.  if that is all they took, that is ok.

oh, and i also learned that no matter how old you are, summer camp is filled with innuendo and cliques.  i suppose it just goes hand in hand with the peanut butter sandwiches and free swim.