Put the lime in the coconut.

There's a pile of dishes that I really don't want to spend much time with, and another pile of clothes that I have to jam in a dinky suitcase that I'm none too fond of.
But there's a bonfire at MT's tonight.
I'm fond of those.
And I have a meeting with a camarade, if you will, that I'm also counting as a good point to today.
(See, darlings, the "thing" is, in this whole circus of study and tests, I was behind in sleep. And for the first and last time EVER I slept an hour into my test this morning, which was at 10 am.)
But instead I'm here, procrastinating properly on the computer.
I was going to right a review of Something's Gotta Give, which I'll describe as cute, clever, and you can walk out before the last hour and still know how it is going to drag on forever.
But yesterday, I saw Bad Santa, and I much preferred an entry where no one's feelings got hurt.

Which is funny, considering the movie is sharply offensive. It's a mean one. But it's glorious, too.
And I think that Billy Bob left Angelina (boo hoo) perhaps to get into character. I mean, who in the movie-going public isn't going to hate the man who left, Angelina Jolie *gasp!* Everyone's putting in their Oscar Contribution around the Hollywood ranchito, and Billy went with the reliable grit (remember Slingblade?).
Anyways, whatever is outside the theater is pointless.
It's a gander into the completely fucked life of a pathetic asshole. Most people would think that the movie is interesting in the way a horrible train wreck with no survivors is interesting. And they would not be far from the truth. The "man" makes anyone reconsider that small glass of wine with dinner, except for Willie, it's not wine, it's like the generic version of Natty Ice. Warm.
I don't feel like telling you what happens, beause if I could pay the $6 to see it, so can you. Or wait 'til video. It will still be a fucking amazing movie at the end of the day.
However, there are supporting actors and actresses who fit perfectly into the brilliant-ness of the movie. The brothers Coen have written a genius script that is positively spiteful (oo, oxymoron!). But, things get "not bad" at just the right time, whether it's through comic relief, a sexual encounter or even the snot-faced fatty kid who annoys you in that way that a pathetic, dumb, fat kid would.
And Lauren Graham shows up as Lorelei if she hadn't had Rory, which isn't really obnoxious at all, she can do it with out seeming too, oh how should I put this, Meg Ryan. And you also get the sense that she's the "good" in Willie's life. Because it ends up being more than what we would expect.
The ending is worth it too.

Anycrap, I'm getting back to those dishes and those clothes.
And I do not plan to touch a computer for the duration of my vacation, so I'm wishing Holiday Cheer in advance, Happy Safe New Years.

(DISCLAIMER: I love to toot my own horn. And I've been studying for a long time, so grammar's kinda gonna be all over the place. I apologize for whatever errors in advance.)

Have you seen my ass? I think I may have left it behind in the library, you know, because I studied my ass off. (oh, hahahaha) That's why I've been MIA. I'm sure you all missed me. In action. Hah!

(By the by, this is a cameo, I'm just dropping by to let you know that I am not at all looking foward to my Anatomy exam, so send me prayers, helpful hints, cheat sheets.)

Anytoots. I had started an entry a day or so ago about the increasing volume of toy commercials versus the increasing volume of tear-jerker AT&T commercials being aired on network television, but I caught myself before it was too late and returned to whatever subject I happened to be studying at the time (Food Science? Evolutionary Anatomy? 16th century English Lit? Statistics? Take your pick.)

But now, I've racked up a decent 30 hours of studying, and my first exam isn't 'til Monday, so I earned this breaky-poo. Aren't you proud of how studious I am? Aren't you?

So today, after yet another review, I went over to friend's house to take part in the cake and ice cream celebration (in honor of her birthday, of course.)
I wouldn't call us best friends forever or anything, but we went to the same Temple as kids, and we've been homo-hotties to a couple of the same gay friends we have, so you know, I guess we have stuff to talk about.

Here's the thing:
I hate to say it about Reform Judaism, but for the most part, once the JAPs (Jewish American Prince(sses)) are Bar/Bat Mitzvahed, they say adios to any further exposure to Jewish Life. As in, in a congregation of, oh, 800 families, maybe 20% of those families force their kids to experience the Hell of Hebrew Highschool (a fabulous way to spend your Monday nights) or, failing that, go to services at least 5 times a year.
Basically, the Active Jews in the Temple are all over forty.

In part because being President of Temple's Youth Group looks nice on college applications, but mostly because I enjoy being actively Jewish and because the Temple did not already have a NFTY Youth Group (Yay Horny Jewish teens!) I dedicated a few years to setting one up. And, you know, since I was the one who got it started (with a lot of help from the Temple's Youth Directors), I appointed myself president.
I didn't break my back or anything, but for me, in between school, senioritis, college apps, rowing and life, I felt I put in a good amount of effort.
And I didn't piss anyone off either! I got my curent "job" with a good recommendation from the Education Director!

So could someone please tell me why, when this friend of mine who hasn't been at the Temple in at least 7 years (and believe me, I know) has received a Chanukah care package, and I have not?

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I should quit whining. But dammit, I want a dreidel too!!!

Balance, glass hopper.

I should probably most definitely be coloring in my Anatomy coloring book (like, college can be FUN!) for the fabulous Exam IV tomorrow morning.
But. In keeping with the purpose of Kaddish, I must appreciate the multitude of creation in the universe. (I think Joni said it best in "Both Sides Now," there's something lost, but something gained, in living every day.)
I met my seventh cousin this past Holiday. Ruby Skye. (awww) She's got these immensely magnetic eyes that are interpreting everything new into some unspeakable genius truth. (Thanks, Piaget!). And as gassy babies tend to be, quite cheerful. Oh. I have to say it. (everybody now, in your best Seinfeld.) (Ready?). "You gotta see the bay-bee!".
Sorry.
But seriously, folks; I've been getting new pictures of her over a few months, and remarking how gorgeous she is, but in person, it's so much more powerful. With her more-red-than-auburn hair, and her big blue eyes, and her Russian Jew meets Celtic Viking features, she is quite a pretty baby gal. And of course, her baby cuteness. And her tiny hands. And her babbling, and teething and crocodile tearing all the time. She was the best part of Thanksgiving. Who can be cranky when there's a baby around? We were all gaa-gaa over goo-goo.

I mean, it's a new person. A new life to develop in a real world. And there are a billion bright lights in the Universe that have been dimming for billions of years, and, here on Earth, humans only get to shine for a few brief moments. It gives a lovely light. And our version of the light that can be seen for billions of years, is the happy memories we leave with our companions.

Me? I'm not going to live as if every moment was my last. I'm just going to live as if I have my entire life. I will not get bothered by the small stuff, like school being annoying. I have my health. Real health. But if my life is over tomorrow, at least I will have done what I was meant to do each day. (Clearly not cramming for Anatomy.)

And you know what else? I think more people need to realize that it actually feels nice to be a good person to others. Because who wants to be remembered as some snotty brat who didn't hold the door or you shoved your change back at you. (guilty of the latter, once or twice.)

Anyways. I'm getting off the pulpit now, or done preaching to the choir, or finished usurping the soapbox or whatever.

Can I get a witness?