'Tis the season. . .

also i just ate most of a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans
and it is 2:30 in the morning on christmas eve CHRISTMAS EVE
CHRISTMAS EVE
CHRISTMASEVECHRISTMASTEVECHRISTMASEVECHRISTMASEVERCHEIRJHSKJNMA NMTBABMASEVE

Dear Diary: Last night I had a dream about Frank Turner.

**DISCLAIMER***
Frank Turner, if by some miracle you end up reading this, this is not an accurate representation of me as a person. I am not going to John Lennon you. I promise. I will probably just end up tripping all over myself and being like "HURRDURRSIGNMYTATTOOAGAINHURRDURR" and you'll give me a weird face and that will be the end of that.



This is just a silly little update. I think I'll start doing these "Dear Diary" things when I haven't updated in a while. They're fun!

*edit: I just realized that some of you might not know who Frank Turner is. If you are one of these unfortunate souls, then you should probably check him out. He's pretty awesome.

I've figured out what I'm doing with the rest of my life.

My German teacher (whose name is Dr. Suess, by the way) is actually from Switzerland. She's tiny and blond and very fashionable, and has a lilting Swiss accent that makes learning German way more fun.

Today she showed us a PowerPoint slideshow that she'd made, highlighting everything that is awesome about Switzerland.

Did you know that Switzerland is one of the richest countries in the world? And that they have an insanely large army, because they have mandatory military training for every man from twenty to thirty-six? And everyone has guns, and mandatory shooting practice, that the military pays for? In the event of an alert, the entire country would be fully mobilized within 12 hours.

Also, there are MANDATORY SKI TRIPS FOR SCHOOLCHILDREN! You are taught how to ski for school credit. Do you have any idea how awesome that is?

And there are ENTIRE AISLES in EVERY SWISS GROCERY STORE that are JUST FULL OF CHOCOLATE. And every Swiss family has an oven, JUST FOR TOASTING CHEESE.

Don't believe me? BOOM. I just dropped science. MAGICAL CHEESE-MELTING OVENS. IN EVERY HOME.

I'm moving to Switzerland, effective immediately. If you need to reach me, I will be firing money out of a machine gun while rappelling down the Alps on skis made of chocolate with my MANDATORY CHEESE OVEN.

None at all!

It's my birthday!

I really dropped the ball here, guys.

I apologize. Seriously, I've been so burned out on classes and work and staying up till 3 in the morning watching Venture Brothers and eating Taco Bell that I haven't even started writing a new blog yet.

I do know what I want the next one to be about, though, and I can safely say it's gonna be good. so if you guys can wait a couple days for me to breathe, you will be handsomely rewarded with an entry about my ridiculously hacky Life Drawing teacher.

Can you do that for me? Please?

Goodies from an invalid.

So for the last few days I've been feeling kind of under the weather. . . which is a very mild way of putting it. A decent way of putting it would be saying that my body is rebelling against my recent radical change in sleeping pattern by hitting me with UNBEARABLE PAIN every twenty minutes or so.

I should tell you, I look awful. Not like, no-makeup-don't-really-look-awful awful, but more like a my-skin-is-this-weird-shade-of-whitish-yellow-and-my-eyes-look-big-and-dead awful. I tried to take a picture for you guys a few minutes ago, just in case you didn't believe me, but since my raccoon rings are back with a vengeance I just end up looking like chubby redhead John Mayer.

So, to compromise, here is a picture of John Mayer, undoubtedly doing something funny, I don't know.

. . . huh.

Needless to say, putting a new blog up hasn't exactly been my highest priority. Being sick makes me less than pleasant to be around, and a whole lot less funny. I haven't really been able to come up with much in the way of entertainment, being more focused on the aforementioned crippling pain and screaming "DEAR GOD WHEN WILL IT END".

Seriously I'm not even kidding.

But I feel bad. I've been neglecting those very people who have been so good to me over the last couple months, and my newest reader, who I'm fairly certain is someone I don't know.

So here are a couple of comics that I drew today, just for you guys. Please enjoy them and utilize them to their fullest extent, whatever the hell that is.

AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGH GOD WHAT IS IT

Rarely Explored, But Universally Acknowledged, Social Archetypes (Essay 1)

(This entry is Part 1 in a series. Since posting this I have gained the power of TIME TRAVEL, and instead of using it for good, have instead used it to easily link you to Part 2, which features MSPaint drawings and caricatures of people I know.)

In this essay, we will explore:
Guy Who Carries His Sketchbook Everywhere
The Conversation Hijacker
(related: The Psychologist)
(related: The Shadow)
Girl Who Sings Conspicuously In Public Places
(related: Guy Who Plays Guitar Introspectively In Public Places)
Unattractive Girl With A Bad Personality Who Is Always Talking About How Hot Everyone Everywhere Finds Her


Guy Who Carries His Sketchbook Everywhere
It doesn't matter whether the situation calls for it or not, this guy is always prepared. . . to show someone twenty-plus pages of cheesy anime-style drawings.

You don't even have to make the request yourself; Guy Who Carries His Sketchbook Everywhere anticipates any potential desire to fawn over his art you might have, and, in a determined effort to help you overcome your shyness, shows them to you anyway, with a big happy grin on your face because he just knows he is making your day.

Guy Who Carries His Sketchbook Everywhere plans on going into a) animation, or b) graphic design. You know this because he tells everyone within a thirty-foot radius. His favorite shows are Bleach or One-Piece, Family Guy, and The Colbert Report. If you want, he will totally draw you with cat ears. He won't even charge you for it, and when he's done, he'll even sign it and give it you to you, so you can cherish it forever.

Or forget about it until you're cleaning out your backpack months later and you find it crumpled at the bottom. Either way.



The Conversation Hijacker
How many times has this happened to you?

You're enjoying a conversation with someone in a fairly neutral public setting, and you're thinking, "Gosh, this is nice, but I really wish someone I don't know at all would just pop out of nowhere and make us both incredibly uncomfortable."

The Conversation Hijacker understands, and is here to solve your problem. They can transition loudly and seamlessly into any given social situation by:
a) commenting on the last thing you said (generally taking it totally out of context),
b) trying to start an entirely new conversation, or
c) walking up, saying something completely out of left field, and then walking away, effectively ending any interaction between you and the person you're talking to, and also rendering starting up a new conversation completely useless.

Sublevel A: The Psychologist
The Psychologist is a very specific type of Conversation Hijacker, who specializes solely in interrupting social interaction by artlessly drawing conjectures and giving advice. This is always unwarranted, and always pisses people off, becuse the Psychologist never bothers to actually check the facts on the things they're trying to give advice for, or seek out any sort of context.

If this is ever brought to their attention, the Psychologist's standard response is, "Hey man, don't get mad at me. I'm just speaking the truth."



Sublevel B: The Shadow
The Shadow is a Conversation Hijacker in sort of a different way. He (because Shadows are usually male), will stand behind you for minutes at a time before anyone notices him. He might say something, he might not. If he does, it will always be at least five minutes after he forces himself into the area, and it will either be:
-something related very distantly to what you are doing (if you are playing any sort of videogame, he will ask you about a very specific game that you are not playing, and if you've watched the show based on the game he's talking about), or
-something, again, completely random and unnecessary, that makes everyone make this face at him.






Girl Who Sings Conspicuously In Public Places
This girl has been told all her life that she has a beautiful voice. The problem is, she isn't going into theater, or anything that requires singing. She doesn't have many places where everyone can focus on her while she sings. So she creates some herself.

Girl Who Sings Conspicuously In Public Places usually has a friend with her, who is also a Girl Who Sings Conspicuously In Public Places. They'll sing conspicuously in fast food joints, department stores, anywhere really. They'll start off quietly, in a generally breathy manner. At some point they'll close their eyes and get louder, using their best choral voice. When they've finished, they'll look at each other and blush, and muse loudly about whether anyone heard them. If someone tells them they have lovely voices, they get embarrassed and say timidly, "Oh. . . thank you. . . I didn't know anyone was listening."

Male Version: Guy Who Plays Guitar Introspectively In Public Places
If you're in a coffeehouse or at a low-key party, you can bet this guy will be there. He will almost certainly have his eyes closed, and have an expression on his face like he's miles away, but he'll snap back to earth as soon as anyone might be addressing him. If anyone compliments his playing, he shrugs and says "Thanks, man. I don't really think about it."

Guy Who Plays Guitar Introspectively In Public Places will have at least four tattoos. One of them will be lyrics, two of them "tribal". He will have a decidedly clean haircut and a contrastingly scraggly beard. He'll play you something he wrote himself when he was going through a tough time. If you ask him to play you something you know, he'll get offended and tell you he's not a trained monkey.




Unattractive Girl With A Bad Personality Who Is Always Talking About How Hot Everyone Everywhere Finds Her
Never mind that she has a face like a Mack truck and the body of Jabba the Hutt. Never mind that she uses the word "fail" a lot, takes deep, deep interest in everything Perez Hilton says, and makes sure you know her opinions on the "issues" by shouting them in your face repeatedly.

Never mind any of that. This girl is a catch. If she wasn't, she wouldn't get hit on so much. I mean, she gets hit on every day. Every hour. She makes sure to note every time it happens in great detail, describing conversations nobody you know would ever have in real life. But that doesn't matter. She wouldn't tell you if it wasn't true. Everyone everywhere makes sure to tell her, loudly and in very clear terms, that they want to jump her bones.

Even though she has this boyfriend who she's very serious about.

You've never met him, but that's okay. He has to exist, right? No one would make that up. It's not like she'd be making up all those explicit, grossly in-depth stories about the awesome sex they have. That would just be pathetic.

No one does that. Right?



Right?

If you have also had a terrible day, look no further.

I had a pretty awful day, so here are a bunch of awesome things.

First of all, Schnappi. You can probably find a translation of it floating around the internet if you really want to, but it's not necessary. All you need to know is that it is adorable. Not sure? Here's a teaser.

I love German children.

Secondly, angry otters, and squeaky otters. Not to mention this otter right here.

Click through for full size

And while you're sampling those lovely otter pictures, why not try our Bubbly Ham? But not this one, please.

(My thanks to Sara Faye for this piggy parade of near-paradoxical cuteness.)

And now, please pause for a small collection of silly pictures.

(She wants your hurrdurr, she wants your durrsign)

An actual Valentine's Day card from the 1950s. WHAT.

Even riding a ROBOT UNICORN through TIME AND SPACE can't make Sad Keanu happy.

Things that are facts: Simon Pegg is a badass, and looks better in a suit than you ever will.

And lastly, maybe Jack wouldn't be such a dull boy if his wife ever did anything halfway decent. Did anyone ever think about that?

Click for full size

I hope, lovely readers, that in one dose of cute animals and slick pop culture references, I have cured your bad day blues. Much love.

"Rent": An Expository Essay

Last night, Jon and I decided to watch "Rent". We had both seen it in high school (together, actually, on a double date; we were in the theater program, hurrdurr), but we thought it'd be interesting to see it again with the mindset that all of these people are stupid assholes.

We were not disappointed.

The movie opens on the two main characters, Mark and Roger, screaming at each other over a blazing trash fire that they've started in their apartment that they're not going to pay their rent. In fact, they're not going to pay last year's rent, or this year's rent, or ANY rent in the future!

Their friend Benny is such a douche for turning off their power on Christmas Eve, when they were screaming openly about how rent was bogus, and he should just give them this nice studio apartment for free in perpetuity because he used to also be a lazy hipster, until he married into money and got a job and stuff. What a jerk, right?

Is anyone else thinking, "Good for Benny"? I know I was, for like, the whole movie.

Before I go into the rest of the plot, let's get into the characters themselves.

Mark

Mark's "thing", because they all have a "thing", is that he's a filmmaker. He has a crappy crank-camera glued to his face for most of the movie, and tells everyone he's filming a documentary (he only says what it's about once, and it's apparently supposed to be about the homeless? Which is weird, because the only people he seems to film are his stupid friends, who ALL HAVE APARTMENTS).

Mark doesn't really have a personality. The only things you know about him, besides scarves and Buddy Holly glasses, are that:
-he likes to film things, I guess.
-he's Jewish. You wouldn't know this, except for two lines that seem thrown in at the last minute because they realized Mark was an empty sack
-he used to date Maureen, which I guess didn't go too well. They never really go into anything about it, except that it was bad.

Most of the movie, Mark is kind of upset, but you don't ever have any idea what he's upset about. The only scene where someone actually calls him on his bullshit, and gives him any sort of dimension as a character, was cut.

Roger

Roger's "thing" is that he plays the guitar, and he's forever trying to write this one song, so he can be famous. He sings a whole song about it, actually, which I think is really funny.
In that song there is also a montage, where you find out everything you need to know about Roger; he had this girlfriend, they used to do a lot of drugs, she gave him AIDS, she died.

Roger spends the rest of the musical having a lot of Edward-Cullen-esque mood swings and shouting about baggage. He makes a lot of wry observations, which comes with being a "musician", and throws them at other people without giving them any context.
Example: in the song "Candle" (or whatever it's called, I don't really feel like looking it up), he says he's looking at the moonlight in Mimi's hair, as a passing observation. A couple of scenes later he's shouting at her to get out of his apartment, and tells her to "get the moonlight out of her hair" like, five times. Which is okay in the context of a musical, I suppose, but when you think about it as an actual, real-life experience, it's just. . . stupid.

Mimi
(Not pictured: track marks, angry cat sounds)

Which brings us to Mimi. Mimi's "thing" is that she's a heroin addict. I'm not even joking. That, and the fact that she's a stripper, is her entire hook. Oh, and she has AIDS too, just like Roger! Isn't that just crazy happenstance.

The way they have her written, it seems like she's supposed to be the most likable character in the whole show, but she's far from it. She throw's a lot of feel-good stuff at Roger about how they only have one life to live, so they should live it to their fullest. You know, stuff that would be great advice coming out of the mouth of anyone who wasn't a heroin-addicted stripper.

Collins and Angel
(Not pictured: smug douchery)

Collins is easily the most likable character in Rent, and even that is kind of stretching it. He gets kicked out of MIT for teaching his theory of "actual reality", which as Jon says is something only a stoner would teach. At the end of the show, he comes into the apartment with a lot of money, and Mark and Roger are really excited. Naturally they ask him if he went back to teaching, or got some other job. He responds, with a ridiculous level of enthusiasm, that NO, he didn't, he just rewired an ATM, so now they can all get money they don't deserve whenever they want!
Mark and Roger think this is the bomb. GRAND LARCENY IS AWESOME.

Angel is Collins's drag queen boygirlfriend, and is one of the major selling points of the show. If what the other characters say about Angel is true, his/her (they go back and forth on this a lot) whole thing was being kind and charitable of heart towards everyone he/she met. Of course, this is entirely without mentioning that Angel's first (and only, I think) song, introducing him/her as this cool, fun person who's really awesome to know, is about being hired to kill a dog. Which, in case you were wondering, he/she totally does, and is really excited about.

Well, not entirely without mentioning. They do bring it up one other time, during "La Vie Boheme", when you find out it was actually Benny's dog. Which only makes it funnier.

What is wrong with these people?

Joanne

You don't really find out much about Joanne, except that she's a lawyer and a lesbian. She dates Maureen after Mark does, and they both commiserate about what a shitty girlfriend Maureen is.

Benny

Benny's "thing" is that he's responsible. He has a job, a good marriage into a wealthy and influential family, and, oh yeah, actual drive. He's trying to turn this building that a bunch of homeless people are squatting in into a giant virtual cyber-studio. You would think that this would be welcome news to people living in that neighborhood, since that might make it not such a shithole, but nobody cares. Benny is a douche. Benny will always be a douche, even when he's offering to let them live in his apartments rent-free, paying for Mimi's rehab, not to mention her apartment, and paying for Angel's funeral, even though he knows he/she killed his dog.

Gosh, what an asshole Benny is.

Maureen

I saved Maureen until last, not because she's the best, but because I hate her. I'm not exaggerating. I actually hate Maureen's character.

Maureen is a "performance artist".

I should say right off the bat that "performance art" in general disgusts me. It's the lowest common denominator of "art", and in my experience it's generally put on by people who are really full of themselves but have no talents doing anything else. Slathering your naked body with chocolate syrup while singing a version of the national anthem with verses you made up, to make a statement about the meat industry, is fucking stupid. Nobody is going to "get it", or even really care. It just doesn't work.

Maureen, being a "performance artist", decides to put on a "protest" in the building Benny is trying to get rebuilt. (What nobody really seems to get is that Benny's in-laws own the building, and can do with it whatever they goddamn please, whether there are idiot hippies in it or not.) This "protest" consists of Maureen standing on a stage shouting, surrounded by TVs all featuring her own face that are also shouting. There's something about a cow, and a desert, and some jokes about Benny being a douche. She sort-of sings, at some points.

Bear in mind, this is supposed to be about the homeless. Also, as Jon pointed out, it's supposed to be a protest, but the only people actually there are the homeless, and Maureen's stupid friends.

Maureen spends the rest of the show in a very loud state of narcissism. Do you remember that girl in high school who was kind of unattractive, and a huge bitch, but they were always talking about how men and women everywhere were forever hitting on them? Ta-da, you have Maureen. Maureen is That Girl.

AND NOW, THE PLOT.

The plot, if you can call it that, is basically:
These characters all come together, somehow.
A year goes by. They sing a lot. Some of them break up. Everybody's really angry for almost no reason.
It's now Christmas. Mimi OD's. She doesn't die. Roger sings.

The end.

What.

Okay guys, pay close attention.

I know this is a totally common mistake that gets made hundreds of times every day, and I'm here to help.

SALMAN RUSHDIE
Portly Indian man
Has a close, personal relationship to Padma Lakshmi
Actually exists





SOLOMON GRUNDY
DC comic villain
Is not Indian
Does not actually exist

There. An easy guide to not making such social faux pas as I do at work every single day. :]

A letter to a very special band.

Dear Say Anything,

A year and a half ago you got an email from a kid in Michigan, describing to you a friend who was was pregnant. This child was giving her what she felt was her only reason to live. Her family was telling her she was making a mistake, and to get an abortion. She was thinking that maybe it was better to... just do it and hate herself, than disappoint everyone around her, because she didn't think she was worth even having a reason to live.
You wrote this kid's friend, me, a song.

That baby is alive and happy, and he just turned a year old. That I had the courage to do it was due in large part to you. If you ever wondered whether you made a difference in someone's life, I want you to know that you did. That I had the support of people I admired, who had never even met me,
in a time when I was vulnerable and terrified, means the world to me. You saved two lives when you sent that song.
I thank you so much for that, and so does my son.

Kelli Amanda Renas

More silly d&d drawings. . .

. . . to make up for my horrible stalling in writing a new entry with *fancy artwork*. Or any new entry at all, really. I'm sorry, folks. I get internet back tomorrow night, so you should be getting like, FIVE new entries of varying caliber before Wednesday.

These are all from our campaign last summer, but they're silly enough to warrant posting.

Those are the celestial things Kelsey and I, as a cleric and a wizard, were allowed to summon. Yes, the porpoise has wings. Why? Because it's celestial. And that means it can fly. They also inhibit its movement underwater like you wouldn't believe, and I bet anytime a shark gets close it wishes it was dead, but right now, that porpoise doesn't even care, because it has wings and it can freaking FLY.

That in the corner is Tragg, our party's minotaur, played by Zack, thus the sideburns and silly hipster glasses.

This is an angry octopus.


And this is what that angry octopus would look like if it were a silly Snidely-Whiplash-type villain who could make bear sounds.


Shit, I don't know. Don't ask me.

These are newlywed crabs on holiday in Spain! They are quite fancy, as you can plainly see.


I was drawing a lot of crabs around that time, because we had just watched The Matador, in which Pierce Brosnan was just this god-awful sleazebag who wore ankle boots and a gold chain and a lot of open-collared shirts, and had a terrible moustache. Of course I picked up some paper and draw what you would get if you slept with Pierce Brosnan, which are sleazy douchebag crabs wearing ankle boots.

And this is A GODDAMNED OWLBEAR.


It's not an owl, nor is it a bear. What it is, is a terrifying nightmare-machine that will eat your face off. And that's not a lazy drawing; that is, in fact, a chillingly realistic portrayal of this awful creature. Just imagine that thing hurtling toward you in three horrible dimensions, screeching its ghostly face-eating wail.

And now, what you've all been waiting for: probably one of the more offensive things I've ever drawn.


That's supposed to be Whitney Houston, but it looks more like Diana Ross. And that is offensive to me.

Yes, there is someone stuck in her MASSIVE hair. It's his own damn fault, really. You get too close to crackheads, you get stuck in their hair. Everybody knows that, and when you think about it, it's really a metaphor.

But then again, aren't we all?

Easily Distracted Kelli is easily distracted.

I have a short attention span. This is a fact I've been dealing with since I can remember. I don't have ADD (and that's a professional's opinion, Mr, Smarty-Pants, not denial), but I can't focus on things for more than a short amount of time. The only exception to this rule is movies, which seems like a pretty big exception, but it's not.

School used to be hell for me. I've always gotten. . . "eh" marks. This isn't because I'm stupid, or incapable of doing the work, but because about fifteen minutes into a lecture or video or class discussion I lose it and get the wiggles, and draw stupid little doodles all over my notebook, as well as my desk.

Take math, for example. I'm good at it. If you can explain a theorem to me in short, concise bursts, I will rock that shit out. I will be all about the theorems. But if the explanation includes diagrams, or letters that need exposition, or overhead projectors. . . I'm lost. And there's not really anything that can be done to get me back.

Why am I telling you all this? It's because of D&D.

I've been playing Dungeons and Dragons on a fairly regular basis since I was sixteen. My friend Jon is the Dungeonmaster in the campaigns I've been playing the last year and a half or so, and he's great. He's really good at keeping things interesting and not letting them get stupid and contrived. Usually, I can follow along with what we're doing, at least to the extent that I can splurt out a short summary filled with "uh"s and "umm"s if someone shows up late and has no idea what's going on.

But there is only so much good storytelling and madcap encounters can do. After a certain point, I get antsy.

And then this happens.

You see that? That is an alien face-hugger. A really gross, inherently evil alien face-hugger that is attacking Carli, a fellow member of our party. Why is it attacking Carli, of all people?

Because it wants to lay eggs in her brain, and because why not.


That's "nice-butt", folks. Like a medical condition.

My scribbles always get progressively weirder, and after a certain point I always end up grabbing one of Jon's dry-erase pens and scrawling my goofy stupid doodles all over the game mat for everyone to see.








I think we had recently watched Hercules? What a silly movie, right? I still don't know how this happened, but it did, and I guess I'm glad I got a picture of it.


At one point last summer while gaming, I drew this huge and inaccurate cartoon of someone who was supposed to be Whitney Houston, and scrawled "CRACK IS WACK" over her head in huge messy letters. I don't have any idea why I did that! My brain just messes with me when I'm trying to pay attention to something. I honestly can't help it.

I've gotten off-topic enough at this point that I'm not even sure how to concisely end this entry.

Note to Kirsten: Email me any and all pictures you have of my stupid D&D drawings, so I can post them in here.