Friday, June 19, 2009

Pixar grants girl's dying wish to see 'Up'

HUNTINGTON BEACH – Colby Curtin, a 10-year-old with a rare form of cancer, was staying alive for one thing – a movie.

From the minute Colby saw the previews to the Disney-Pixar movie Up, she was desperate to see it. Colby had been diagnosed with vascular cancer about three years ago, said her mother, Lisa Curtin, and at the beginning of this month it became apparent that she would die soon and was too ill to be moved to a theater to see the film.

- Girl's Dying Wish

Friday, May 15, 2009

I burn, I pine, I perish

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.
I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

- Kat Stratford

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Honesty

Thursday, February 05, 2009

Want a Movie-watching Partner =(

"Now Mr. Prentice, clearly a most reasonable man, says he has no wish to offend me but wants to know if I'm some kind of a *nut*. And Mrs. Prentice says that like her husband I'm a burned-out old shell of a man who cannot even remember what it's like to love a woman the way her son loves my daughter. And strange as it seems, that's the first statement made to me all day with which I am prepared to take issue... cause I think you're wrong, you're as wrong as you can be. I admit that I hadn't considered it, hadn't even thought about it, but I know exactly how he feels about her and there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you son feels for my daughter that I didn't feel for Christina. Old- yes. Burned-out- certainly, but I can tell you the memories are still there- clear, intact, indestructible, and they'll be there if I live to be 110. Where John made his mistake I think was in attaching so much importance to what her mother and I might think... because in the final analysis it doesn't matter a damn what we think. The only thing that matters is what they feel, and how much they feel, for each other. And if it's half of what we felt- that's everything. As for you two and the problems you're going to have, they seem almost unimaginable, but you'll have no problem with me, and I think when Christina and I and your mother have some time to work on him you'll have no problem with your father, John. But you do know, I'm sure you know, what you're up against. There'll be 100 million people right here in this country who will be shocked and offended and appalled and the two of you will just have to ride that out, maybe every day for the rest of your lives. You could try to ignore those people, or you could feel sorry for them and for their prejudice and their bigotry and their blind hatred and stupid fears, but where necessary you'll just have to cling tight to each other and say "screw all those people"! Anybody could make a case, a hell of a good case, against your getting married. The arguments are so obvious that nobody has to make them. But you're two wonderful people who happened to fall in love and happened to have a pigmentation problem, and I think that now, no matter what kind of a case some bastard could make against your getting married, there would be only one thing worse, and that would be if - knowing what you two are and knowing what you two have and knowing what you two feel- you didn't get married. Well, Tillie, when the hell are we gonna get some dinner"
- Matt Drayton, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Friday, January 30, 2009

Bus Ride Home

You know how much I preach about pursuit of happiness and how much I try to encourage others by adding flavor to life anecdotes? Well, I fail to realize how hard it is things are actually able to follow through.

Take for example, the bus ride home I took today. A really nice gal who sat next to me, and we were able to start a somewhat unexciting conversation, nevertheless it was something casual. Even though my mind (and my stomach) was telling me I probably should ask her out to lunch, my mouth failed to do so. It's disappointing, to say the least, how much I failed to live up to my own words. Now the moment has passed and the chance are that I will never see her again under the same circumstance.

To be honest, it was not like I was asking her to be in a relationship, or I was asking her to do something significant ... it was lunch, last time I checked people ate, and people ate around noon. I fail to utter out those words, but left with a 'Take good care of yourself" and dazed for the rest of my ride home.

It's happenstance like this that breaks my heart, and it's examples like this I step back and re-examine how I evaluate life. But then again, it's unlikely that I will miss class again.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Coming Undone



Wait
I'm coming undone
Irate
I'm coming undone
Too late
I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate
Wait
I'm starting to suffocate
And soon I anticipate
I'm coming undone
One looks so strong
So delicate

Friday, December 05, 2008

So Much Win

A Nice Guy's Lament
And why they'll (we'll) never, never, never score
===========================================
This is dedicated to all the "Nice Guys" who never get anything more from girls than a river of tears..
===========================================

Ladies, we need to talk. We're the nice guys, the guy friends you turn to when the hottie from South Quad shatters your sophomore heart all over the Theta Xi dance floor, when "boys suck" or when he doesn't understand that living in different area codes does not constitute cheating. We've dried your tears, listened to you whine and told you it was all going to be ok. Well, we're done fitting the "Nice Guys Finish Last" stereotype. We've gotten together and decided on a few things:

First, we are sick and tired of listening to you cry, and simultaneously losing out in the girl department. How many times have we listened to you mope about finding "a nice boy who will treat me with respect," when we're standing here in front of you? Oh yeah, that's right, because you wouldn't want to "mess things up." That's the biggest bunch of crap we've ever heard. Maybe if we were as muscled and refined as Mr. Frat Boy, you'd give us a second look. Well, you know what, missy? Not all of life is like a soap opera. How long do you expect us just to sit here and listen to your life tragedies and not fall for you? Are you that blind? We are sick of
being just another "girl" friend.

Secondly, cut the crap. We know what you mean; if you want us to go away for a while, tell us so. Don't lie and say it's "girl's night out." This is crap, because the minute you see a hot guy, you're suddenly "on the prowl." At least we guys are straightforward: we're either "on the prowl" or playing poker; those are our two modes. Also, if you don't like us, say so. None of this "Let's just be really good friends" malarkey; this translates from girl language to, "I'm sorry, but you're just really ugly." If we don't ask you on a date, it is because we are intimidated by you; don't make us any more nervous or anxious by rushing to be our "friend" when we like you.

Finally, if the guy are with is treating you like crap, LEAVE HIM. I know you don't want to because he is hot, in Beta, and has the "prettiest blue eyes," but HE IS A SCUM BAG. You need to wake up and see that he is a jerk. He will not get better. He will not change. We are experts in
empathy (reading people), and know that people, for the most part, do not change. If he stands you up routinely, yells at you, or cheats on you, he ALWAYS WILL. Just as he will always do these things, you will always go back to him. It is like clockwork. He will effectively own you, and treat you badly, and we will cry for you because of it. Please do yourselves (and us) a favor, and let him go; don't save this one. I promise you, he is not THAT cute, and the sex is not THAT good. Nothing is worth getting hurt, and we nice guys really want to affix our steel-toed boots to their skinny Abercrombie asses.

All told, we want nothing more than to show you what a "good" guy is like. You know, that good guy your girlfriends tell you about. Well newsflash, ladies WE ARE THOSE "GOOD" GUYS. You are dealing with an untapped resource of quality date material, and we think we deserve our chance. You can't deny it; you always tell us how sweet we are, and how "romantic" our ideas
are. Stop trying to hook us up with your peg-legged cousin from Timbuktu, we are friends with YOU, we want to show YOU the good time we can.

Unlike Mr. Muscles, we don't like you because your halter top is tight, and you looked nice under the strobe lights. We know the inner you; we know everything there is to know about you. Your innermost secrets have been shared with us. So we don't have the best dance moves and can't bench 250, so what? Who knows you better than us? Who can you trust with everything? That's right, ladies, us. The Nice Guys. The "boys." This ultimately leads to the question, what are you doing Saturday night?"

- Matt