Our carpet is still wet.

We are moving on the 16^th... but we have to be out of here on the 15^th. We only officially started moving things into our new house yesterday.

This was a mistake.

Last night, AK-47 got assistance from a friend's dad and we started moving things. That was fun. I actually haven't seen the bulk of the new house; I've seen the living room and front lanai.

Today, we had an appointment to have our carpets cleaned, so everything in the rooms had to be gone. That... sucked. There is a lot of crap in this apartment. There is 4½ peoples' worth of stuff in here. Even with a lot of it gone yesterday, we... have things.

The carpet cleaner was scheduled to arrive at 2. Hamburglar, AK-47 and I started clearing at 10. At noon, the guy called and said “Hey, can I come sooner? Like, now?”

“Um, no. We're not ready for you.”

“Okay, I'll come at two.”

Hamburglar and I were done by one. AK-47 was still working, but she was also done by 2. The guy, however, called at 1:45 to say he would be here at 2:30.

Uhmmm?

Alright. We took this time to clean a little bit more, goof off and all around become quite bored. When the guy came, we had to CLEAN OUT THE BATHROOM so his dumbass could use our tub for his water crap.

Me: “.....What.” There was nothing about that mentioned in my phone call to the operators.

After this, AK-47, Hamburglar and I went downstairs to sit around, be cold (“You can close the door,” AK-47 boldly states) and wonder at the workings of the universe.

The guy is done in a record 40 minutes. The carpet actually looks a lot better; like, there is more color than there are stains now, oh my god. He claims it will be done in 4 to 6 hours.

We had planned for this. We were aware that we would not be able to move anything this day. We didn't really have anything planned for the day. First order of business was to pick up ZombieSlayer and Katana. We then went to Curry House.

We also had to get some keys made. So we went to WalMart. They could not do this one key that we had. So we went to Sears (Katana had a moment of self-affirmation. She hates the jewelry section of Sears but she went through it. Yay.) They were able to make some of our keys, but not the main one. Damn.

We still have four hours to kill, so we hang around the patio section, sitting and talking and being tired of being out of the house. We make plans for tomorrow. AK-47 and I are going to commandeer LionDancer's van and make several high-priority trips to and from the new house. Yay, oh my god.

We drop ZombieSlayer off at the house she is sitting, and go home.

WHAT THE FUCK.

WHAT THE FUCKING HELL.

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

The carpet is still wet.

It has been 7 hours. SEVEN. HOURS.

We are sleeping on PLASTIC BAGS because all of our bedding stuff is on the lanai where we cannot reach it.

I am, as I type this, planning out my strongly worded message for the carpet cleaner's company. This is some major bullshit.

Pictures to follow.

P.S. AK-47 doesn't name her cold-blooded pets, which is bloodist. I named as many as I could. I named one of her bettas Tumor for... an unfortunately obvious reason.

P.P.S. Hamburglar was color-guard captain, and the high school across the lanai has nothing on them. They are not original at all.

A Venture Into the Happily Unknown

In my experience, the things that I like are not the things that are popular. I never make any concrete decision to dislike anything mainstream or well-known, or to go against the flow. It just happens. I do what I want, which can turn into some interesting situations. With the exception of some childhood necessities, like Sesame Street, army men and googles, I didn't really do the same thing as other people.

My fashion choices do not fall into any known category. Black t-shirts, black boots and blue jeans does not a goth make. Some magazines are trying to call the look “vamped up” (I've come to realize that “vamped up” means that a prep is wearing all black. It's annoying beyond words.) but I call it comfortable. I like black, but I'm not goth. I don't like wearing bright colors anymore. My closet is full of greys and blacks and blues and the very occasional white shirt. I like (read: love) shoes, but I pull on my combat boots before anything else. Which puts my 20-something pairs of shoes to complete and utter waste.

I like Lord Of The Rings, and Harry Potter, but I like serial killers better. I love Dexter. I will read, watch or learn anything about serial killers. I also like forensics. I will watch Bones any day of the week. Put a serial killer in Bones and I am so there. I like the creepy things in life, and I have a soft spot for vampires, but I don't go Abby Scuito on the things; I just like them.

So I'm trying to figure out why popular things are popular. I absolutely do not understand Twilight mania, as aforestated. I can go on and on about that. My recent study is Sex and the City. Seriously, what is it? Why are people so attracted to a show based around four women who choke out their lines, wear bad clothes, are utterly selfish with men and have poor lighting?

Let me break those four points down.

A) The Lines. I have never in my entire life seen anyone struggle so hard to show emotion. Repeating the same thing over and over does not an emote make. (Example: “You have to forgive me. You have to forgive me. Aiden, you have to forgive me. You have to forgive me.” Never once is there a change in tone. She doesn't even cry.) Along with the lines goes the never-moving expressions. Sarah Jessica Parker has two facial expressions: “I'm having sex but not really because I'm walking fabulously through New York” and “I'm a horse.”

B) The Clothes. If you want to watch something about really awesome clothes, watch The Devil Wears Prada. That has some damn fine threads. Sex and the City, not so much. Their clothes are ugly, plain and poorly suited, with the exception of one or two of Samantha's woman-suits... and their nudity. If I see one more obnoxiously huge flower, one more terrifying combination of tweed and rayon, I will shoot myself in the head. I will give them credit for the shoes; those are some nice shoes. But they are not well-matched to the outfits. And if they are such able fashionistas, why are they wearing socks with pumps? Why?!

C) Selfish with Men. I am hardly capable of giving out relationship advice, but I know that if you cheat on someone, you don't go back expecting to be forgiven just because the guy looks good. He probably looks good now so he can find a hotter chick, who doesn't look like a horse. And then when he tells you what a bitch you are, take it like the bitch you are. Don't run away crying like you never expected to be turned down. Honestly.

D) Poor Lighting. The whole thing looks like bad reality TV. (Which may or may not be the original intention. I'm not sure yet.) The outdoor city scenes, sure. Make it as grimy as you please. But indoors, please for the love of god brighten the thing up. Because when it's not bright (For reference purposes, please see any decent show, like The Big Bang Theory, Two and a Half Men, or freaking Top Chef), the rare bright colors they wear show up like neon green “MY BLIND LIBRARIAN DRESSED ME” signs. If you want the lighting to be dreary, the clothes have to be dreary. Otherwise, it's just bad.

So my question to the universe regarding Sex and the City's popularity is this: What up with that?”

Drama, Beware

Today, I was scared. I was actually sick to my stomach with fright. The only other time I had ever been that terrified was when I was flying to Hawaii on my own for the very first time, I had never been on a plane before and I took six antacids. I don't get scared easily. I really don't. I carry a knife in my purse because my brother gave it to me before I moved. I have phobias, sure, of boats, bridges and stairs, but everyone has those.

What, you ask, could make me this sick with fear?

I read a Twi-Hard's blog today.

I found it by searching “Honolulu” on Blogger, and decided to... investigate the inner workings of my worst enemies.

I was not prepared.

First of all, you know all of those over-exaggerated impressions we do of Twilight fans going “I LOVE EDWARD! OMGOMGOMGOMG ROB IS SO HOOOOOTT!”? No, they actually do that. She actually wrote stuff like that. And this is a grown woman. She's married and has a child. And she does this. Actively. She drools over vampires and hates on werewolves.

Second, BEWARE THE SHERATON WAIKIKI HOTEL DECEMBER 3-5! There is a Twilight convention coming to town on that date. That might have scared me more than the blogger, because I knew Twi-hard fans existed, but I didn't know that there was going to be a gathering of them for more than two days. This is three days. (And to show what a freaking pig festival it is, the main cast won't even be there. Yeah, I investigated.)

Now, I hate Twilight for a few reasons. My sisters started reading it and it drove me crazy because they talked about it all the time. It was insane. They camped out at book stores waiting for the new books to come out. I secretly took a glance at what turned out to be Eclipse a few weeks after it came out and they gushed about it. I read one page and went “* vomit *” and set it down never, I thought, to return. Because my sisters talked about it so much, I had a lot of material for general bashing. I also gained material from BeccaTwoC, because her friends analyzed it and she shared the information with me. I never actually read it, but I could talk about it at length with quite a bite (lulz, pun).

I was talking to one of my coworkers about it one time. She really liked the books, for reasons I still have as yet to discern, and when we were talking about it, she was the first to ask “Have you read the books?” I told her that, well, no, I hadn't read them. She told me to read them and then make my own judgments.

This was a mistake on her part.

I already hated the books and everything that they represented. Yes, my information came from third parties and it wasn't actually my opinions. But then I read books one, two and four (I heard Bella died in the last one and got excited so I skipped) and had my own reasons to hate the books.

And to wonder why they were even published. They belong on a fan fiction site. That is how insanely poor the plot and writing is. I don't call myself a first-class writer, but I have read first-class writing, and Twilight is not that.

It took me a while to read the books because I had to keep setting them aside to make room for the vomit because they weren't mine. In the first half of Twilight, alone, I screamed “What the CRAP?!” no less than ten times. I was that shocked, and that sickened. When Edward left in New Moon, I actually went “Story is done now, yes? * checks remaining pages * Ohh...” and then watched as Bella tried to get by without a man in her life. Way to educate your readership, Meyer. GREAT job.

I would like to point out, on that note, that if anyone, regardless of who they are, regardless of their intentions, comes into my room to watch me sleep, they will get clubbed. I am not kidding. I will club you like a baby seal if you sneak into my room through the window uninvited. (Good luck, though, because I live on the 17^th floor.) This isn't even in reference to the vampire legend about not being able to come into homes uninvited; while that is a nice twist, especially how they handled it in Let The Right One In, it's mostly bullshit invented by priests who wanted people to feel safe. If you believe a legend, you probably won't question it. If you are a vampire. No, this has nothing to do with that. It has to do with breaking and entering and general creepiness. That horny bastard could get arrested. He actually could. Where is the romance in that, I ask you? It's not there; it doesn't exist. It is serenely ignored in light of how “romantic” it is. Excuse me while I vomit.

And don't even get me started on the sparkling. You know what? He lives in the woods, he doesn't harm humans, he sparkles—let's face it: Edward's not a vampire, he's a fucking fairy.

You know how the book should have gone? First of all, it would not be four books, it would be one quick-and-to-the-point book. Second, Bella would be sent to her father's by her mother and be a regular teenager who doesn't want to live where the sun don't shine. Third, Edward would try to attack her at least once. Fourth, Edward would get arrested by Bella's dad for stalking his daughter. Fifth, Edward breaks out of prison and hunts Bella down. He convinces her that he is a vampire (okay, fine, a vegetarian vampire) and that he wants to suck her blood because she's mm-mm-good. Sixth, Bella actually shows some sense of self-preservation and says “No, thank you, good sir.” Seventh, a Jasper miraculously appears and changes her. Om-nom-nom. Eighth, Bella freaks and goes on a rampage and kills Charlie so there's no human ties for her. Nineth, Edward stops her dumb ass and, like, ties her down, or something. Tenth, after convincing her of proper morals now that she's no longer mm-mm-good, they begin to fall in love naturally and then she is introduced to his family where she can be a proper member. Eleventh, no werewolves. Please pick your genre and adhere to it.

Doesn't that sound so much better? Honestly, I could write that. Take note, Meyer: This is how it should have gone.

Then I would be a fan. None of this mamby-pamby “I love you in spite of the fact that you want to kill me.” I—Please. Even Buffy and Angel had issues. Hell, even Buffy and Spike had issues. But it was still believable and realistic.

For, you know, a fantasy novel.

P.S. For those curious, my little sister made a full recovery.

I'm a sloth... I'm a cold sloth.

Today started out super awesome!

No, just kidding, I don't have a life.

Hamburglar and Katana used video chat to communicate across the room. We are clearly too important to use conventional methods... like speaking up.

1:41 PM: Katana is a couch.

1:43 PM: We are so interesting.

1:44 PM: My laundry is done! Oh the folding thrills I shall have!

2:02 PM: I've officially exhausted the entertainment value of folding.

2:03 PM: “Are we going to cosplay today?” “I kinda wanna. I wanna.” “Uhhh... maybe.”

3:38 PM: There is a bird outside our door.

4:04 PM: There is a bird. Outside. OUR DOOR.

Katana and Hamburglar chased the bird away. We went to Kahala, returned the Legend of Zelda game that Hamburglar borrowed for Katana, get Tekken for Hamburglar, get ZombieSlayer and prepare for awesomeness.

First, we decide to go cosplaying. We are going to go cosplaying, and do normal things – because normal things are so much more fun in cosplay. We walk to IHOP (in cosplay) and have pancakes (in cosplay). I put syrup on my pancakes, something I rarely do, and it was far too sweet so I didn't finish mine. I don't really like overbearingly sweet things.

On our way out of IHOP, we decide that it would be awesome to ride the tourist trolley (in cosplay). The tourist trolleys are usually populated with Japanese folks wanting to see a lot of the city. It's free but we view it with certain contempt because it's annoying. But today... we want to go on one.

But we were too late for the trolley. We had a sad. We decide to walk to the International Market. On the way, I spot a bike rack and decide to ride it. So I do. And Katana snaps a picture. Then Katana poses with it, and I snap a picture. Then Hamburglar, and then ZombieSlayer. We were just really awesome. This one lady saw us from inside a bar, and poked her head out to ask if we wanted her to take a picture of all of us with the bike rack. We agree, assure her we are not tourists, and pose. It. Was. Awesome.



But then... we got accosted.

Not by Spotter. We got accosted by “Homeless” Guy. First, he stopped us asking if he could show us around. We were like, “No, dude, we live here, it's cool.” But he didn't leave us alone. He stopped us again.

“Homeless” Guy: “I really appreciate you stopping, not everyone would. You know how it's been raining around here a lot?”
Us: “...No.”

It doesn't rain here a lot. It... drizzles. It doesn't even effect you.

“Homeless” Guy: “...Well, it has been. Anyway, I've been stuck outside with no place to stay, so I'm trying to raise money to stay in a hotel tonight. I don't want money for nothing, so I composed a rap song to sing for some cash. I know money's tight but any dollars you could spare would be appreciated—”
Us: “We don't carry cash.” (Lying.)
Hamburglar: “Yeah, it's dangerous to carry cash around...”
“Homeless” Guy: “It's not dangerous to carry cash around...”
Bek: “Clearly, it is.”

And we fucking booked.

He actually followed us to the street corner, until we crossed and then he hung back.

So anyway, yeah, then we went to International Market, which is fun. They had BIG FISH. Big. Pond. Fish. (Koi.) It was awesome.

On our way back, Katana and I decide to stick our feet in the building's swimming pool, since we've been walking for a long time. The water felt so good that we went upstairs, got swimsuits on, and I swam in a pool for the first time in over a decade. It was legen—wait for it—dary.

Conclusion? Everything is 100% more awesome when you're in cosplay.