Tomorrow I'll be participating in A Day With(out) Weblogs (organized by The BradLands' own Brad Graham), in observation of World AIDS Day. I also won't be here. It just happened to work out that way, really. Anyway, as such, I will leave you tonight with the following series of links designed to educate and to raise AIDS awareness.

"Rent is about being young in New York, being brave and being scared, being in love and being in trouble, viewing hope for today and faith for tomorrow." It's also about a group of friends dealing with, among other things, the devastation of AIDS, and it's one of the most powerful musicals ever to grace the Broadway stage. Plus it just plain rocks.

Speaking of Broadway, Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids is one of my pet charities. If you live in or around NYC, you're probably already aware of their various annual fund-raising events, such as Broadway Bares and the Broadway Flea Market. If, like me, you have no way of attending such events, you might appreciate their online catalogue, which is chock-full of unique Broadway merchandising goodness, the proceeds of which all go to the cause.

On the local front, for anyone living in or around Tulsa, Oklahoma, check out the Community Service Council of Greater Tulsa's AIDS info site, which has info on local efforts to raise both awareness and funds for finding a cure.

AIDS/HIV on About.com contains all kinds of info on the disease and treatment options, and also provides a support community through a related forum and chat room.

Of course, it just wouldn't be Ritalin Junkie if I didn't throw in some requisite geek links ...

"Green Lantern" scribe and former Real World castmember (the one with Puck ... you know, back when the show was still interesting) Judd Winick has created a graphic novel, "Pedro and Me," about his friendship with his Real World cast-mate, the late Pedro Zamora. Read about it in Pedro and Us: How the friendship of Pedro Zamora and Judd Winick continues to teach us all....

Lastly, go read Cory Doctorow's tribute to the sci-fi greats who have succumbed to the illness, Aids in Science Fiction. It's a couple of years old, but it still packs a punch. You might be surprised at some of the names on the list. I know I was.

That's it for me for this week. Tomorrow I'll be out at a staff meeting (and even if I wasn't I wouldn't be blogging), Saturday I'm going to see Show Boat, and Sunday I'll probably hang out and do laundry but won't be inclined to log on and blog about it. So, I guess I'll talk at you again on Monday. Have a good weekend.

I don't know, Erich. I'd like to think it would take more than a wicked mutant tongue-lashing to take out a couple of Jedi Knights.

Cool beans! First I discover that my friend Tess went to college with James Marsden (a.k.a. Cyclops), then I learn that Terrence and I went to college with Lindsey. Not that any of us ever knowingly crossed paths with our respective pre-celeb classmates, but that's still pretty nifty. Though I think it's probably a tetch cooler to have gone to school with the leader of the X-Men than with Wolfram & Hart's little bitch ...

"Today on Good Morning America, Blaine said he’s feeling fine, except for his extremely swollen ankles. But he expects to be back on his feet and 'back to normal' in a few short days."

Dumb-ass. I guess fortune really does favor the foolish and the brave.

I mean, really. I've completely lost faith in Warner Bros.' ability to adeptly handle the Batman franchise (not that I had much faith to begin with). Thank God they still treat DC as a separate entity. This pretty much destroys any shred of hope I had that the upcoming Year One and live-action Batman Beyond films will be something worth watching. Fuckheads.

Kids WB has decided to cancel Batman Beyond.

This is just flat out depressing.

Peter hits the nail on the head.

Except, I actually like Anya.

Save the Joker Update - Ain't It Cool posted an article saying that not only has the censoring of "Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker" taken place, it is worse than the WB spokespeople said it would be and there is currently no uncut version being offered to the adult fans. More info and the relevant links can be found at savethejoker.org.

Angel, Buffy, & Spike reviewing, rambling, philosophizing, speculating, second-guessing, and theorizing ahead. And did I mention spoiling?

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By the way, this is going to be pretty long.

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First off: Dru's back! Quoth the Evil Midnight Bomber (What Bombs at Midnight), "Yeah, baby, yeah!"

That look she gave Angel while she was turning Darla was just downright chilling.

As often as Angel gets to take his shirt off (or should I say, we get to see Angel take his shirt off), they sure do a good job of obscuring his tattoo. That was about the third time I've noticed it but I still can't make out what it is. Anybody know and care to tell me?

I would have been pretty pissed off by that ending if not for Drusilla. All he went through, and Darla's acceptance of her humanity and her impending death, all so she can just be turned against her will? Damn Wolfram & Hart, damn Lindsey, and damn Joss Whedon.

Speaking of Lindsey, I am SO glad he cut his hair.

Speaking of haircuts, I've decided I like Cordelia's.

On to Buffy ...

Yay on Willow! She was pretty great in this one. She's been bordering dangerously on annoying this season, but occasionally she has scenes such as most of tonight's that make up for the annoyingness. And I don't blame her for the annoyingness. You know who I blame. I don't think I have to say it.

Kristine Sutherland is really getting to show her acting chops this season. Her demented scenes were dead-on (I've spent enough time around demented people to recognize a good imitation of dementia when I see it), and her scenes with Buffy were touching, especially at the end when she made Buffy promise to take care of Dawn. I wonder if she'll remember the truth about Dawn when she comes out of her surgery.

Ben the Intern is apparantly evil, which I suspected. He was just too damned nice not to be evil. Everyone should be kept pretty busy until the next new episode speculating on just what exactly is the nature of his relationship to Glory. Fun.

As for this week's creepy-crawly, and I mean that in the most literal sense, it seriously creeped me out. Hell, it even made Spike freak, which is no easy feat. Have I mentioned yet that I love James Marsters? Well, I do. Just so's ya know. Anyway, when that Queller demon thing was creeping around the mental ward, it reminded me of that X-Files ep where that telemarketing supervisor turned into a giant bug monster in the dark, and since Mulder could see it they thought he was losing his mind, so they strapped him in a hospital bed while the bug thing was coming for him. That episode made it really hard for me to sleep, as I suspect this episode of Buffy will. And it doesn't help that the commando guy assisting Riley was the same guy that played Donnie Pfaster, the serial killer with the hair & nails fetish who nearly got Scully twice. That guy scared the hell out of me.

Spike, by the way, is turning into one bold little stalker. "Um, did you hear a noise?" Like it's perfectly natural for him to be in her house. That chip certainly hasn't hindered his audacity. I'll sure be glad when he starts getting more than five minutes of screen time per episode (even though his five minutes have consistently been the best five minutes of each episode) and they start really exploring this transformation he seems to be undergoing.

And yes, I'm convinced it's a transformation, and not just a phase. I know a lot of people out there are hoping to see Spike get the restraining chip out of his brain and return to his old, evil, bad-ass self, but that would be what we call character regression, which is a big don't when it comes to storytelling. In a recent interview James Marsters commented that Spike seems to be on some sort of hero's journey, and hero's journeys don't end with the character reverting to their old ways. He's come too far and grown too much to go back to what he was when he started. The only options now are for them to let Spike's character transformation run its course and end up with a decidedly different Spike, or to (Whedon forbid!) kill him off and end up with a decidedly dead Spike. Going back to Second Season Spike just isn't a valid option, no matter how much fun Second Season Spike was to watch.

Dare I speculate on where Spike is headed? Not really, because I'd most likely be wrong; but you know what? I'm going to anyway. Is it romance with Buffy? Possibly. I definitely wouldn't rule that out at this point, and though I wouldn't consider myself a Spike & Buffy 'shipper, I'm not opposed to the idea. However, I'm not entirely convinced that that's the point behind all of this. I have a feeling that his feelings for Buffy might simply be the impetus for Spike to move on to "a higher purpose," as Giles suggested last season after discovering that Spike could still whip up on his own kind. Maybe that higher purpose is simply to be Buffy's true love, but I doubt it. Remember Xander's dream from last season's finale? Remember how in said dream Spike was being groomed by Giles to become a Watcher? Might that dream have been prophetic? Methinks perhaps so. But would the Watchers Council really consider accepting a soulless vampire into their ranks? Probably not. So how could he become a Watcher?

Fairly easily, I think, if he became a human first. All he'd need to do so is the blood of one of those demons from the "Angel" episode "I Will Remember You."

So how would this play out? Logically, something like this: Riley Finn becomes a vampire (at the rate that boy's going, I'll be surprised now if that doesn't happen). Angel 'fesses up to a despondent Buffy about the demon who's blood made him turn human. Buffy determines to capture such a demon and use it to turn Riley human again. The newly evil Riley likes being a vamp, and refuses to cooperate, and tries to either kill Buffy or make her into his vampire mate. Buffy either A) kills Riley, and Spike is there to console her, or B) can't bring herself to kill him, and Spike does it for her, thus saving her life and earning some extremely mixed feelings from her. Spike admits to himself once and for all that he cares for Buffy, and believes he doesn't really have a shot with her as long as he's a soulless vampire, chip or no chip. So he sets out to capture one of those demons to turn himself human. This could lead to another Crossover Event in which Spike goes to L.A. to seek Angel's help in the matter (which could also lead to one last Spike/Drusilla confrontation, now that she's back and all). Spike succeeds in becoming human, and whether or not Buffy then reciprocates his affection, he'll need to get a job. We've seen that the pre-Spike William the Bloody seemed to be the scholarly type, and with his history and knowledge of the Slayers he'd be perfectly suited to the life of a Watcher. Plus, if Sarah Michelle Gellar really quits after next season like she keeps saying she's going to, and they decide to carry on the show without her, Spike would already be set up to become the new Slayer's Watcher (this would even work if said new Slayer turned out to be Faith, considering that Wesley was probably never replaced). This is not to say that Giles would have to go, as he'd serve as a mentor to Spike.

Yeah, so this probably sounds horrible to most of you, and I'm most likely horribly, terribly, unbelievably wrong, but it was fun coming up with the scenario, and I still think it makes a lot of sense. If you'd like to agree with me or rip my theory to shreds, just click on my name at the bottom of this post. I'd love to hear your arguments, if you have any.

I warned you this would be long.

NextGenerationDegeneration is currently to my immediate right on the webloggers ring, which is good, because I found them once a while back, but then lost them and forgot about them, and it's nice to be reminded, because they're a bunch of OU kids, which I myself used to be, as did Terrence.

Speaking of Terrence, he's either not getting my e-mail, or he's ignoring me today. Either way it's irritating.

I think perhaps I've gotten carried away with an obsession when it starts to work its way into my dreams. All night last night I dreamed about Buffy. Not that I was in Sunnydale, hanging with the Scoobies, or anything cool like that, but that I was at my freaking class reunion, which is coming up in a few months but which I have no intentions whatsoever of attending, and I was stuck there because of car trouble or somesuch, and it was Tuesday night, and I was stressing something fierce over the prospect of not being home on time for Buffy.

On the other hand, my date to the reunion was David Boreanaz, so it wasn't all bad.

I fell on my face last night. That wasn't part of the dream, it really happened, and now I'm sore. I took my dog out as soon as I got home, and my mom's big-ass dog went with us. He wandered down the street just past the reach of the street lamp, where he proceeded to get into it with something. It might have just been a cat, but then it might have been a racoon or something rabid, I couldn't tell. I called him back, but he ignored me, and then my little dog decided to go check it out. For somebody that only has three-inch long legs, that little sucker is fast. So I had to run after him, because he ignored my calls too. I'm running across the yard, in boots with three-inch heels -- because I hadn't changed from work yet -- and, of course, lost my footing, and landed in the muddy leaves, face down, all sprawled out and in pain. At least there were no witnesses (and so I tell the world about it here. Bright of me, eh?), and at least I managed to not land on my tiny dog. Go me.

AICN - UNBREAKABLE is part one of a planned trilogy

This could be very bad. It could also be absolutely amazing. It could forever change the face of the superhero genre. Which could also be very bad. Or absolutely amazing.

I just hope they do a comic adaptation of all this for us collectors.

Hey, DC fans, look! CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTHS is finally being released in TPB. The whole thing in one massive volume. It only took them, what, 15 years? Seeing as how I didn't start reading comics until years after the Crisis, this is going to clear up so much confusion for me.

I can't tell you how much I hate -- I mean fucking HATE -- that stupid anti-right-click "hey, don't steal my pictures, man!" script that some people use on their sites. I hate it so much that I refuse to blog or link to any site that uses that script, no matter how great (or how laughable) the site may be. Does it keep me or anyone else with a modicum of knowledge about how web sites work from looking at (or copying) your source code? No. Does it keep us from being able to snag your pictures? No. Does it irritate the shit out of us? Damn straight! Why? Because of what it does do. It DOES keep us Blogger-powered 'bloggers from being able to use our handy-dandy little right-click "blog this!" link, which means that if we want to 'blog your site we have to do it the time consuming way by going to the Blogger web site, signing in, and posting there, which is usually more effort than it's worth. It DOES keep us from being able to open one of your external links in a new window if we so desire, so that we can view other pages without having to leave your page. It DOES keep us from being able to copy and paste quotable text into our blog entries. On framed sites, it DOES keep us from being able to print or refresh a single frame. It DOES keep us from using the right-click shortcut to add you to our favorites folder. It DOES insult us by assuming that we are all theives who are up to no good. It DOES suggest that you probably have a much higher opinion of your own design than most of your visitors.

In short, there is not one single redeeming quality to that script, and when I become Queen of the Internet, it will be eliminated, and offenders will be taken out and shot.

Happy first Monday back to work after a long holiday weekend! Unless you're one of those people who got to use vacation time to extend their weekend even further. If you are, then sod off. Nobody wants to talk to you.

One of my office mates was blaring Kenny G. from their cube until just a few minutes ago. This is why I haven't made any friends to speak of here at work--they're all they type of people who would blare Kenny G. from their cubes. I mean, really. Can you blame me?

My best friend just called. She's going through all kinds of crap right now, and it's all out of her control. Which means there isn't anything I can do to make it better for her; no sensible advice to give, no pep talks, no reassurances... I figure the best thing I can do is just be there, give her an ear to talk to, a shoulder to cry on and, if she'd accept the offer, a place to stay to get a break from it all. This bites. We've been friends for something like 15 years, and for probably the first 10 of those years, it was always me who was dealing with crap beyond my control, and she who got me through it. I can't say I'm happy for a chance to return the favor, because I'm not happy at all that she's having to go through this shit, but I hope I can do the supportive thing as well as she did all those years.

Anyway.

My Thanksgiving probably wasn't much different from yours, so I'll spare you those details.

Saturday was by far the most active day of my long weekend. Tess and I went to the Philbrook to see the French Masters exhibit. This was the last weekend for it, so of course, it was extremely crowded, and you had to push and shove and be altogether rude in order to get close enough to get a good look at each painting, but it was worth it.

After some minor Christmas shopping in the Philbrook gift shop, we went to see "Unbreakable." I can't really write much of a review of this movie without giving something away, so I'll just say this about it: if you enjoy comic books, particularly superhero comics, and especially if you're the type of fan who loves to wax philosophical about the nature of good and evil and the relationship between your favorite hero and their arch enemy, you should go see this movie. No matter what you've heard about it, just trust me. You'll like it.

After the movie (and dinner at Sonic), I dropped Tess off and went home to watch "Mallrats," so it turned out to be a comic themed evening.

The rest of the weekend was spent mostly watching rented dvd's and television, including last night's X-Files. I'm still not sure quite what to make of that one. I don't usually care much for the creature feature episodes, but always before Mulder's wisecracks and the banter between him and Scully made them entertaining. Without Mulder last night's episode felt more like... well, like a poor imitation of X-Files. I miss Mulder. I'm a stubborn X-phile, though, so I'll stick with it to the end. I just need to remember that the first half of last season sucked, too, but then it picked up steam during the second half and turned out to be a pretty decent season. Dogget's growing on me.

One more thing before I forget: Hi Uncle Jack & Aunt Chrissy!

For those of you who celebrate it, have a happy Thanksgiving tomorrow. The rest of you, have a happy Thursday.

I probably won't be back until Monday.

The Batman Beyond theme as interpreted by Kenny Wayne Shepherd. Less industrial, more bluesy, but it works.

Also: The Making of "Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker"

Follow the bouncing meme. I think she started it, and I'm certainly not going to be the one to finish it. I don't normally like to do this sort of thing, because I'm never happy with my answers afterwards, but here goes:

Bernard Pivot Questionnaire:

What is your favorite word?: I'm rather fond of persnickety. Ruckus is fun too. And piddle.
What is your least favorite word?: I hate corporate lingo.
What turns you on?: British accents, a good singing voice, and/or a wicked-funny sense of humor. A combination of all three will melt my socks.
What turns you off?: Willful ignorance, rudeness and pretension.
What sound do you love?: "Timmah!"
What sound do you hate?: The sounds of office-mates making chit-chat in front of my desk and the sound of a cell phone ringing in a movie theater both tend to make me contemplate physical violence.
What is your favorite curse word?: I derive an odd sense of satisfaction from using "-ass" as a suffix: big-ass, stupid-ass, weird-ass... you get the idea.
What profession other than yours would you like to attempt?: I'd like to be a cartoonist, but sadly, I can't draw.
What profession would you not like to participate in?: I don't think I'd like to have to clean up after the elephants at the zoo ...
If (if?!) Heaven exists what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?: Well done my child.

Buffy & Angel spoilers ahoy!

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"Slayer musk: bitter & aggravatin'."

I love Spike.

I don't hate Riley, though, and I'm worried about the boy. He's going to go and get himself turned, isn't he?

The scenes with Buffy's mom almost made me cry. Whedon won't really let her die, will he? That's just... it's just... Please don't let Buffy's mom die!

What the hell is the deal with Tara's red hair? Is this just one more step towards the seeming attempt to meld her and Willow into one non-distinct quirky red-headed witch being? When we see them together now, should we just say "hey look, there's Willa" or "oh, here comes Tarrow"? Feh.

Speaking of hair, Cordy's new 'do is going to take some getting used to.

That Tony Todd is one creepy sumbitch, with or without demon makeup.

I liked the hep-cat Angel. I'm not too worried about him, no way are they going to let our hero go permanently bad on us. I'm confident he'll get a handle on this reawakened bloodlust. Eventually. I hope.

I have to confess that I liked Kate when they first introduced her. It was only towards the end of last season that she started to really piss me off. I feared the events of this episode would give her a legitimate reason to hate Angel and she'd become even more of a nuisance, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. Maybe she'll lighten up and become somewhat likeable again after this.

I can't believe Cordelia kept that necklace. And her teeth really are kind of big.

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS
Listen to the SHOULDN'TSS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me--
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be.
--Shel Silverstein

Since I just got the letter Saturday, and it said my article would appear in the winter issue, I didn't expect it to see actual print for another month or so; but waiting for me in my mailbox when I got home from work this evening were three copies of the winter issue of Abilities magazine, all with my article in them. See? And this right here is the best part.

Should I be embarrassed to say that I did a happy dance around the kitchen with the magazine? And then again with my dog? I probably should be, but I'm not.

I'm a freelance writer. It says so right there on page 70.

AICN - Jay Roach wants Bruce Campbell for Zaphod Beeblebrox

Well, who doesn't? Hail to the king, baby.

Thank you, thank you,thank you!

Dr. Kirk Langstrom guest starred on X-Files last night. Okay, not really, but it would have been a cool tie-in.

I wish I could be brave like Scully.

I saw the Grinch movie on Saturday (that's right, I actually left the house this weekend). It was cute, and it was funny enough in places, and Jim Carrey certainly did a good job (although I don't know about the claims that he's the only actor who could have pulled it off ... the actor who immediately springs to my mind every single time I watch the cartoon is Tim Curry). It's great for anyone in the mood for sacharrine-sweet yuletide comedy that's fun for the whole family, or for anyone who's a fan of Jim Carrey; but if what you're in the mood for is a brilliant rendition of a beloved holiday classic, go rent the cartoon.

My baby sister turned 20 yesterday. The entire Cousins clan breathes a sigh of relief at the official ending of her teens. She and her husband came over last night for pizza and cake. Big Brother and his brood dropped in as well. An interesting revelation came to light over dinner. Little Sister mentioned that she had the same English teacher her senior year as I did, and that no matter what she did, the woman hated her. I mentioned that she hated me too, right off the bat, without even giving me a chance to properly offend her and earn her hatred. Big Brother told us then that he had her too, probably 10 years or so before I ever took her class, and that she hated him, too. It seems that when Eldest Sister took her class some 20 years ago, she managed to royally piss this woman off, and soured her on the entire Cousins brood. The rest of us never had a chance. You'd think that the ten years between when Eldest Sister pissed her off and when I took her class, she'd have gotten over it, whatever it was, and you'd especially think that the seven years between when I and my little sister took her class would be enough time, but apparantly it wasn't. Talk about holding a grudge.

Ladies and gentlemen (or whatever), you are now visiting the web site of a professional writer. That's right, baby! Me! I'm a pro! Abilities Magazine is going to publish my article about ADD in the workplace in their winter issue. And they're paying me for the right to do so. Hey, Mrs. Stone! Stick that in your bong and smoke it! Plan B my ass.

It's a glamorous life, this, the life of a professional writer... now if you'll excuse me, I have to go clean up some poodle piss.

No chocolate, but there's pumpkin roll, and that's good too.

Thanksgiving food is comfort food, something I'm badly in need of today. My need was met by a department pot-luck lunch. Stuffing, fried chicken (not exactly a Thanksgiving staple, but somebody brought it anyway), corn, green bean casserole with the french fried onions ... mmm'mmm. Starchy and fattening and PMS-symptom reducing. Now I set off in search of chocolate. At first glance, all of the desserts back there seemed to be pumpkin flavored. I need chocolate. Surely to God somebody had the good sense to bring something chocolatey.

I, of course, didn't bring anything. At first I just wasn't going to, because, I mean, these people all make at least three times as much as I do, I don't see why I should be expected to feed any of them; but then guilt and peer pressure got the better of me and I put my name down to bring chips or something, which I'd intended to buy at a convenience store on my way in this morning. But then I overslept, and was really late, and kind of forgot about the food, so I didn't have any luck to contribute to the pot. So I guess I don't really have any room to complain about a perceived lack of chocolate foodstuffs; but still, you'd think somebody would bring some damn chocolate.

It always slightly amazes me when I find that somebody new has added me to their regular reading list. It's humbling to be liked. Or maybe they just see a lot here that's worth making fun of. But that's cool too.

Alrighty, I've got my DVD's on order. Here's what's in my queue:

1. John Carpenter's The Thing
2. Ghost In the Shell
3. Armitage III
4. Mallrats
5. Dogma
6. Sid & Nancy
7. Brazil
8. Return to Oz
9. City of Lost Children, and ...
10. Dragonball: The Saga of Goku

Free movies and a four day weekend make Jean a happy camper.

Blogger bitch!

I overslept this morning, which made me 45 minutes late for work. Of course, this happens the day after my supervisor finally calls me on the floor for always being 15 minutes late for work, which caught me by surprise, because after three years of always being 15 minutes late for work and making it up in the evenings, and nobody saying anything about it, I'd pretty much figured that it was widely accepted that my workshift was from 8:15 to 5:15. I pointed that out, and my supervisor didn't have a problem with that, but it still probably wasn't a very smart thing to do, oversleeping the day after nearly getting reprimanded for being late.

I have work to do. I have meetings to get on people's calendars before they take off on their holiday vacations. I have travel arrangements (other people's, of course), to make. I have files to file and benefits to renew. And yet the most pressing question for me right now is, have I waited too long to use my 10 totally free dvd movie rental offer from NetFlix.com that came with my dvd player to order a buttload of movies in time for Thanksgiving weekend? I think perhaps not.

Isn't it nice to see where my priorities lie?

It's also really hard to write sex scenes when your bosses are hanging out at your desk.

You know, it's not easy to write believable sex scenes when you're a virgin; but just because I'm abstaining doesn' t mean my characters should have to ...

I forgot to blog this yesterday: At lunch (yesterday) the gang and I decided that a good comeback for Spike after Buffy told him he's beneath her would have been "You wish, 'cause baby, you'd enjoy the ride!" That would have shown her. Hateful bitch.

I started out today in a really good mood.

It's been straight down hill from there, I tell ya.

Star Wars Nativity Scene -- Heh. Somehow I don't think my mom will let me set this up under the tree this year.

Things I'm going to do when my next credit card payment kicks in:

• Order comics for November and December
• Buy Dragonball Z - The History of Trunks and Dragonball Z - Imperfect Cell - Encounter (uncut versions, natch)
  
• register ritalinjunkie.org
• Buy something for my little sister's birthday, since she was so helpful as to write down for me exactly what I should get her, which I thought was nice of her, especially considering that for my birthday she got me exactly squat, but hey, I'm the big sister, so I'm supposed to overlook that detail and blow my money on her anyway, right? Whatever.

I think that deep down I must be a lot more stressed out about the prospect of going back to college than I'd previously thought. Last night I had a dream about it, except in my dream I went back to high school. All the kids were young and just as snotty as when I went there, and I kept having to explain to them that I'm not a teacher, and they kept telling me I'm old, damned little bastards. Everything had been moved around since I'd last gone there, and I couldn't find the office to pick up my class schedule, so I didn't kow where I was supposed to be, so I just wandered the halls from classroom to classroom, asking at each one if I was supposed to be in that class, and pissing off each of the teachers along the way. Finally I said "fuck this" and went to hang out in the student center, where I found David Cates, my best guy friend from 8th grade, who'd also decided to go back to school and was pretty much in the same boat I was. Except that wasn't very comforting, because he wasn't adult David, he was 8th grader David, and he still made me feel old, but at least I wasn't the only person that was lost. Then my old high school English teacher came in and yelled at us both, and I started to cower, but then I stood up and said "Hey, I'm an adult now, dammit, I don't have to put up with this shit!" and they kicked me out of school. Then I woke up.

I hope my first day back at college goes more smoothly.

Clowns. Who needs 'em?

Don't tell anybody, but sometimes--quite often, in fact--I wear my headphones without actually listening to any music, just to discourage my office mates from feeling the need to make small talk every time they walk by my desk. Sadly, it doesn't always work.

Okay then. On to Buffy. No spoilers yet, just gushing. That was the best episode ever! Okay, maybe not, but it was definitely one of the best I've seen since I started watching the show last season. I didn't think it possible, but they made me even more enamored with Spike. And James Marsters. He's quite possibly the most talented actor on the entire WB lineup, and also probably the only one you don't see popping up from time to time on the big screen. What's up with that?

Now for spoilerage ...

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I'd read the net rumors that James Marsters was going to leave the show and that Spike was going to be killed off. These rumors were just too upsetting to even contemplate, so I didn't pay them any mind; but I gotta say, I was really worried for Blondie-bear there towards the end. Would he push Buffy too far? Would she actually stake him? Would he end up turning that shotgun on himself? I was a-scared; but I needn't have worried. I couldn't possibly imagine a more satisfying ending than the one they gave us. It was ... effulgent.

Hee hee, he called Angel a poofter.

As for Angel, quite a night of revelations for our favorite tortured vampire superhero. What did he mean by "Congratulations, Spike, now you're one of us." Has soul-boy slayed himself a slayer or two?

I loved the way they used the same footage from Spike's flashbacks on Buffy, but showed them from Angel's and Darla's points of view, giving the scenes a whole new meaning. That was pretty cool right there.

Poor Lindsey. He's cute, but he's such a little bitch.

A Day Without Weblogs - oh look, a weblog trend I can follow without worrying about looking like just another sheep in the herd.

I wish I could draw.

Try this:

1. Call National Discount Brokers at 1-800-888-3999.

2. Listen to the options. Be sure to listen to what option #7 says
before you push the number 7.

3. When you hear the option description, push 7.

Talk about employees with too much time on their hands ...

Lately I've been having a great deal of trouble bringing myself to care about a great many things. Not just the election rigmarole, but a lot of things. The impending holidays, for one. Going back to school in January. My job. My book. The upcoming movies, even though I've been pretty psyched about at least a couple of them all year. I just don't care. I can hardly be bothered to leave the house if I don't absolutely have to, like to go to my job that I don't care about. I haven't cared much about blogging, either, which explains why Ritalin Junkie has sucked so much lately. I haven't been sleeping well lately, I suspect that's the culprit, though it may just be a hormonal thing. I kind of hope it's the latter, because then it will pass in another week or so. I just feel bleah. Everything, everyone, the entire world around me, it's all just ... bleah.

Though, in stupid Jean fashion, no matter how down I feel or how little I care about the rest of the world, I can still manage to get all worked up about stupid, unimportant things about which normal people could care less. Like the fact that the JLA was on Batman Beyond this Saturday, or the way Kitty Pryde was introduced on X-Men: Evolution, or the fact that we still don't know how Scully got pregnant; or, more importantly, that this week is the big Buffy/Angel crossover. These things are important to me, even when I feel like the rest of the world can politely go piss off. It's a sickness.

Anyway. Since I couldn't be bothered to leave the house this weekend, I rearranged my living room, cleared my desk off and made it more writer friendly, after which I actually did some writing. This brief spurt of motivation & inspiration came after reading in the Sunday paper a review of Stephen King's new book, On Writing : A Memoir of the Craft. If just the review moved me to do something as drastic as clean off my desk and rearrange furniture, not to mention write something, imagine what the book itself might do for me.

Anyway, apologies for the recent suckage. It's just a phase, hopefully I'll snap out of it soon.

Whatever it is, Yana, you're in my prayers. Take care.

I've been trying to fend off a nasty headache for two days now. My office doesn't keep any good drugs around. I hurt, and I'm cranky.

Posted two more poems to the Words section: Affiliations and Little Dreamer

Man, even Keith's "closed for rennovations" pages kick everybody else's ass. I can't wait to see the new site unveiled.

I posted a new old story (old to me, but new to you) in the Words section: Tinkerbell Darling

Last night was the season premiere of South Park, in which they finally move up to fourth grade. I watched it, and LMAO, and thought it was a great episode, but at the same time, the geek in me felt very bothered by the fact that there were not seventy-two, not seventy-three, but SEVENTY-NINE original Star Trek episodes, including the original pilot, and counting the two part "Menagerie" as one episode. 79, dammit!

At least I don't build time machines in my mom's basement.

That's one of my favorite cd's, dude.

I'm actually pretty proud of this. I love you too, Terrence, you anti-social bastard.

I got snowed in this morning. Fortunately, it warmed up and the snow melted off of the roads, so I got to come to work for half a day. Oh, the pleasures in my life never end! Should I have inserted <sarcasm> tags up there?

Eleni, I went and answered your Buffy questions here.

My newest batch of generic methylphenidate pills look to be a much paler shade of blue than usual. I wonder if that should concern me.

Nope. I hate Salon.

It's Wednesday morning, a.k.a. "the morning after," and you know what that means.

Spoilers ahoy ...

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.

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So. All that build-up, a year of speculating about what's up with Tara, and ... nothing. She's not a demon, she's not half-demon, she's not even a little bit evil. She just comes from a really screwed up family.

A bit of a let down, if you ask me.

Spike made up for it, though, as usual. Spike rules. On an aside, I stayed up to watch James Marsters on Politically Incorrect last Friday, and was pretty irritated by that loud mouthed windbag sitting next to him who wouldn't let him get a word in edgewise. Though, the few comments he did manage to squeeze in just made me love him even more. Anyway ...

Here's something I really never thought I'd ever say: Xander and Anya are possibly the most adoreable couple on prime time television.

Speaking of adoreable couples, I loved the way Xander and Riley were wrestling and kidding each other. Riley actually felt like a good fit last night. Don't tell me they're going to make me really like him just in time to watch him leave.

On Angel ...

I actually enjoyed this episode more than Buffy. I think Wesley has finally completed his evolution into a really good character. I hardly miss Doyle at all any more. Alexis Denisof's comedic timing just gets better and better. It was nice to see ol' Wes kick some ass, too.

I think I officially like Gunn now. I can't think of any one thing that cemented it, but he's been gradually growing on me, and last night he felt like a good fit.

That thing that Angel did with that fishing rod? That was pretty cool right there.

"You were in Virginia?"

"That's beside the point."

Heh.

Virginia, by the way, used to play a vampire in that short-lived vampire drama on Fox, "Kindred: The Embraced." I was really into that show, while it lasted. She had really pretty hair. I wish I could make my hair look like that.

I just asked my supervisor if I could take off thirty minutes early. I told her I still have to vote, and I have to run a couple of errands. I conveniently left off the part about having to be home in time for Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

She said yes. I'm outta here.

Lately I've been thinking I'd like to write for comics. I realize this is the sort of thing people usually figure out in their teens, but I didn't even start reading comics until my early twenties. I don't know. It's just one of those artforms that have captivated me so much I'd like to be part of making it happen. I'm having trouble finding my niche as a writer, maybe that's where it lies. I'm often told I should try writing screenplays, because dialogue is my biggest strength, but for some reason that holds no attraction for me. Actually, if I could write screenplays for small indie productions, that would rock. Still, it doesn't hold as much appeal as having someone be able to hold something I've written in their hand and read it. So I'm thinking comics. Best of both worlds, right? How much would it kick ass to see my name printed on a cover alongside a Kelly Jones or a Brian Bolland, or to be held in such esteem as Alan Moore or Grant Morrison, or for that matter Devin Greyson (she who rules)? Quite a lot, actually.

But fangirl writer fantasies aside, what really prompted this was that I was reading through my novel manuscript for the umpteenth time recently and thinking how well it would lend itself to a comic format. I was thinking that if I fail to find someone who wants to publish it in novel form, then maybe I should think long and hard about grabbing one of the many artists in my family (I think I'm the only member who missed out on that particular gene, actually) and see if they'd like to collaborate on producing the story as an indie comic. That would pretty much rule, too.

Of course, first I have to quit fiddling around with the manuscript and actually try to get it published. Then there's the screenplay I'm supposed to be writing that my friends and I are going to produce, just for the hell of it. Plus the short stories I'm supposed to be redrafting to try and sell.

Oh, and today I completed and mailed off my college application. I marked Social Science as my intended major, because the college just got accredited as a full-blown university and they don't yet offer Psychology. If they do, then it should be an easy enough switch, and if they don't, then I can still switch and get the degree through another university while attending classes at the college. Confusing, I know. Even more confusing is, what the hell am I going to do with a psych degree? If the comic book writing doesn't work out, my screenplay never gets produced, and I never become a best- or even moderately well- selling novelist, then it shouldn't be too hard to find myself a decent job, and if I do manage to figure out a way to support myself by writing, then the knowledge garnered from earning the degree can only enhance my writing by giving me an insight into human behavior, right? That's my theory, anyway. Either way, I won't have to be a secretary for the rest of my life, and today that's all that really matters.

So how does one go about writing for comics, anyway? I haven't a clue.

Now, the coolest thing about that is that I'm only two degrees away from Rudy. Rudy rocks.

In other news ... new Buffy tonight! (Kermit the Frog style:) Yaaaaaaaay!

Having just returned from the monthy office birthday/promotion/whatever celebration, where all anybody talked about was the election (except for one guy who has a hysterically paranoid theory about Napster, but that's neither here nor there), and having already read through blog entry after blog entry about the election, and having been asked umpteen times already this morning whether or not I've voted yet, I think I can safely promise you, my faithful audience of five, that Ritalin Junkie will remain a safe haven from election coverage and/or political preaching throughout the day. There will henceforth be no more mention of the election, nor of any of the candidates, nor of any of the issues. Just the same random, pointless lunacy you've come to expect.

I am just so fucking not a morning person.

Terrence and I have been playing the Kevin Bacon game to pass the time this afternoon, and it has come to my attention that I'm only 5 degrees of separation away from Kevin Bacon. One of my co-workers (that's one) is an old family friend of Rudy from Survivor (that's two), who guest starred on an episode of JAG with Patrick Labyorteaux (three) who was in "Heathers" with Christian Slater (four) who was in "Murder In the First" with Kevin Bacon. If you know me, then you are six degrees of separation from Kevin Bacon.

I had way too much idle time this afternoon.

Damn, but it's hot in here.

Settle down. I knew what you meant. I know it's rare for me, but the below post was nothing but sincere. Goober.

These would look so nice on either end of my Neil Gaiman collection.

Curl up with this at night for restful sleep and sweet dreams: The Plushy Elder God

How nice to know I don't require a name tag to gain admittance to your life.

It was a big X weekend, beginning with X-Men: Evolution and wrapping up with the season premiere of "X Files." Actually, seeing as how not much else happened in between, I suppose it was just an X weekend, as opposed to a "big" X weekend, but whatever.

The new X-Men cartoon was a pleasant surprise. I expected to hate it, but I actually found very little about which to complain. Just a couple of pick-worthy nits, actually. I didn't understand why Scott and Jean would be attending a public high school if they live at the School for Gifted Youngsters ... I mean, sure, the school mainly serves as a facade for a mutant training camp, but still, it is a school. You'd think sending them to public school would be too great a risk, especially with Cyclops' pension for losing his shades and accidentally blowing things up. The only other nit I found to pick was that they changed Toad's identity from Mortimer Toynbee to a hygiene-impaired young hoodlum named Todd Tolansky (or something like that), but it was a change I could live with.

I was relieved to see that they didn't make Wolverine a teenager. He was actually very cool, as he should be. The Wolverine in the old Fox Kids cartoon really grated my nerves. Storm appeared to be quite a bit older than the students, also, and this version could kick Halle Berry's ass six ways to next Sunday without even breaking a sweat. We like her. Shooting lightning right out of her hands instead of having to call it down from the sky ... now THAT'S what I'm talking about.

Anyway. NIGHTCRAWLER! 'nuff said.

Yet to appear on the scene are Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and a new character called Spyke, who appears to be an upbeat male version of Marrow.

The bad guys: Mystique, who is masquerading as the high school principal, and who wears her signature skulls and white dress in this version, at least when she's not being the principal, and does not run around in the nude bitch slapping people with her feet. Sorry, guys. She's got her hooks into the aforementioned Toad, guiding him on the path towards evil. At the end we learn that she's working for Magneto, who makes an appearance at the end as a shadowy figure with a really great voice. We also catch a glimpse of Sabertooth, who looks just exactly like his movie counterpart, which is a little disappointing because I didn't think he was scary-looking enough in the movie.

I'll definitely be getting up Saturday mornings for this one.

As for X-Files (mild spoilers ahead): I'm not sure yet what to make of the Terminator guy. All I could think was how he beat out Bruce Campbell for the role and how that's just plain wrong. As for Scully's baby, I'm not going to bother to speculate on the father. I know what I think, but I also think that that's what Carter wants us to think, and that it's probably wrong. Well, I'm just not going to play Carter's little guessing game this time around.

I was happy to see Gibson. I'd been worried about the kiddo ever since Spender and that Fowley bitch left him locked up inside that power plant with one of the scary aliens from the movie. Poor little guy.

The rest of my weekend consisted of reading, writing, sleeping, and doing laundry. Not terribly exciting, but not bad, either.

So. Clowns. Who needs 'em? I don't like them, never have. It's not so much that I'm afraid of them ... well, okay, I am afraid of them. And why not? You've got your Pennywise, your John Wayne Gacey, that clown doll from "Poltergeist," Sweet Tooth -- although, Sweet Tooth is actually pretty cool, as scary-as-hell clowns go -- Shriners, and, did I mention Pennywise? Damn, that book messed me up. And Tim Curry's performance in the movie didn't exactly endear me to the character, or to clowns in general. But aside from all that, what kind of sideshow freak of a person actually finds a clown funny? I've never witnessed a clown who does anything other than just annoy the everloving daylights out of me. I just prefer to keep my distance from them, is all. I don't know when this started, but I was pretty young. According to my mom, even as a baby I would scream and cry whenever they took me to the circus and a clown would approach me.

She likes to bring up this particular personality quirk of mine to company. I don't know why. Last night my cousin and his teenaged daughter were over. She bribed him with dinner to come over and figure out what's wrong with our satellite reception. It's actually pretty amazing what my family will do for free food. Anyway, I was in the kitchen with his kid and my brother's kid, eating ice cream and talking cartoons and having a grand old time, when from the living room I hear "... afraid of clowns. She used to kick and scream and try to get away whenever one would come up to her at the circus."

"Who are you talking about?" I holler.

"You," she says.

"Why?" I holler back.

"Because it's funny," she says, "and weird. You'd think you'd have grown out of that by now."

"Hey!" I shout in defense. "There is nothing 'weird' or irrational about disliking clowns. John Wayne Gacey was a clown, you know."

"But you couldn't have known that when you were little."

"I guess I just had a sixth sense. I saw annoying people, and knew to run away."

"Whatever."

Then she proceeded to tell him about how as a preschooler I refused to go outside and play in the yard unless I wore a scarf on my head, because I was afraid that airplanes passing overhead might land on my head, and believed the scarf would protect me. I honestly have no memory of that, so I can't begin to explain what that was all about, but at least I grew out of that one.

Though, I might not have, had I ever seen a movie starring Tim Curry as a plane that went 'round squashing little children ...

Jason X - Even though I'm a firm believer that they should have stopped at part 4, I have to admit that I kinda really want to see this.

Somebody rated me as "the worst" on bloghop. Dude, that's just harsh.

Lesson learned on my lunch hour: UPS package mailers make pretty good emergency umbrellas.

Cover - "The Blues is Just a Bad Dream"

Okay. That does it. I officially have a wicked crush on James Marsters.

You may (or may not) have noticed that I took "Return of the Joker" off of my wishlist. Here's why.

Warner Bastards.

*SIGH* Back to normal.

Oh, hey! Happy birthday, sweetie!