When I Get Bored With Myself, I Dye My Hair.

Duh! I'm so bored.

In Which I Renew My Committment To Having A Crush On Beowulf

Just an example of some of the Beowulf paraphernalia I have accumulated. Please notice that at least one of the paraphernalia is the book.

Lately I've been so busy. Working full time. Hanging out with friends. Writing two non-Beowulf themed novellas. Going jogging. In fact I've almost forgotten about how excited I am anticipating the May 2009 DVD release of Outlander, starring Jim "Jesus" Caviezel as some dude from outer space who lands in a Viking settlement and ends up fighting an epic monster (also from outer space, as to my understanding). According to Wikipedia, my main source of information these days, because this handy informational website is only one click of the mouse away and therefore does not involve me getting out of my super-comfy vintage office chair (in a lovely, nubby, burnt orange fabric, I might add), one of the characters names is Hrothgar, so you can probably see where I am going with this. I almost think it might be time for me to do a Beowulf tie-in of my own. After all, I have been making such a fuss about a poem in a dead language for so long, it only seems like the next logical step. Look, I can already say a few things in Anglo-Saxon. Like "se geong mon." Which means "the young man." Clearly I am on my way to something really big here.


In other news, I feel totally vindicated regarding my great fondness for the movie "Beowulf and Grendel," a movie inveterate blogger and poet Jack Morgan claimed was "bad." But my friend, the super-smart and very talented poet Trevor Calvert, (who has a book you should read called "Rarer and More Wonderful") on the other hand, thinks "Beowulf and Grendel" is a fantastic film, and I am pretty sure he is not merely being swayed by a good-looking actor in a long-haired wig. Really, if you ask me, the movie (which is admittedly pretty post-modern in its treatment of Grendel) is about what happens when you open a door by committing an immoral act and then don't get to decide what comes back over the threshold at you. And Grendel, who is wronged by Hrothgar, brings measureless violence back upon him. Sort of like Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho." Janet Leigh doesn't just get it from Norman Bates. She embezzles the money from her boss and then she gets it from Norman Bates. In the shower. Thank you.

Now That I'm Not Blogging About My Cat, I FInd I Have Very Little To Say.

Not blogging about the cat. Nope. Not gonna do it.

Right now he is staring blankly into space, just one of the many tasks he has difficulty completing because of his crippling Attention Deficit Disorder.

Obviously, I am sick. Thank you.

In Other News, Importand Staff Meeting Turns Out To Be Really Boring

1. In a thoroughly unexpected turn of events, a meticulously planned, long-anticipated staff meeting attended by this blogger for most of one recent day turned out to be less than uproariously entertaining. Normally, this blogger might use the next few lines to quickly sum up the all-important topics covered at the gripping all-day informational session, but she stopped paying attention after the first five minutes and started thinking instead about all the other things she'd rather be doing on what was supposed to be one of her precious days off. Like laying face down on the sofa. Like drinking diet Pepsi until she felt light-headed, which these days is about her only vice. This blogger did not, however, fail to notice the upbeat motivational sayings about the value of a positive *attitude* printed in the margins of the pamphlets passed out for all to read and continues to be really glad she's not in sales where it is required you believe in such things or you will not win friends and influence people into spending four thousand dollars on a new leather sofa and love seat for their living room and instead will just die in shame and penury and with the knowledge that you are ranked last for this month because you can't shake your *attitude* problem. Sheeeesh.

2. In other news, my friends are smarter than me. While I have been daydreaming about becoming a famous novelist, my friends Cameron Jackson and Jessica Cox have actually opened up an art gallery in the actual real world, a place I only occasionally visit, usually to eat or go to the bathroom. It is called the Alphonse Berber Gallery and it is located near Cal and you should go there, for Christ's sake. But don't take my word for it. Check out their website.
Also, although the gallery has got great art hanging on the walls, it is worth just checking it out to see the fantastic space, designed by architect Justin Botros. Someone named Jeremy Graves manages the gallery, but I have never met him although I am sure he is also much smarter than I am. Here's to you, Jeremy!

3. In even other news, my cat, Gerard Butler, is going away and will never be heard from again. My poor little cat, Stanley, can no longer bear the hefty weight of shouldering two identities and has asked to be relieved from public service. Also, I am sort of down on cats right now. They are bothersome with their constant meowing and always need their litter tended or else the whole house smells like a toilet. This is the real world that I live in. Thank you.