Frodo Lives

2002-11-24 / 11:59 a.m.

Today was more or less relaxed and fun. I spent the better part of the afternoon after finishing my biology homework hanging around with Rachel and Misty, as well as celebrating my unprecedented victory over my biology test--yes, ladies and gentlemen, I spanked it hard, earning a whopping 100% on my test. Yay!!! ! ! !

For the later part of the evening, I had been invited to an 80's themed party thown by a girl in my fencing class. But I'm getting ahead of myself...that wasn't until later

In the mean time, Tania--my friend across the hall and Rachel's room mate--had returned from Model UN and had purchased a copy of the new and extended Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring Unnnggggghhhhhhh ::drool:: Assuming my mother and I get a DVD player for a collective Christmas gift, I'm not sure which version of the DVD I'll buy. First, I thought that I would just get the original, but it seemed to me that all of the extended and added scenes in this new version are good. Decisions decisions.

Thinking about that movie makes me chuckle, because I'm thinking that the production staff was probably one of the largest collective of dorks ever. I'm guessing that most of these guys--especially the ones in charge of the nitpicky Tolkien details--were painfully dorky when they were in school, and are probably reveling gloriously in the success of the movie. I mean honestly, if you can make a ton of money doing something that generally brands you as a nerd: more power to you. I like to think of the elvish language coach in particular...I have a really endearing image of him in my imagination. I read an interview with Liv Tyler once, when she mentioned the (or one of the) language coach(es). She was saying something about how great he was, and how she could call him anytime at all if she needed help. oh ha ha ha, I can imagine that now. I picture this guy talking around the water cooler... "Dude! Liv Tyler totally called me at home". Heh, I think that is so cool.

So...after watching about half of the movie, I went to primp for the 80's party. I wore my hair down and curly and teased up pretty good, with the top part pulled up into a very high half ponytail. Then I donned a white oxford shirt tied at the mid-drift over top of a fitted tee shirt. Jeans with a hole in the knee, tight rolled, with scrunched up socks. Top that off with a couple of bangle bracelets and some heavy eye makeup (pink glittery with blue eyeliner). Yeeeaaaahhhh. I looked retarded, but true to the theme, and pretty sexy. I put on my coat to cover up my unique ensamble and headed out. Walking over there, I was getting pretty psyched. Party, yay! I havn't really been to many parties. I've been invited to a couple, but circumstances have always hindered me from going (and Hillary, I hear you scoffing now). So I'm all ready for it. music! alcohol! men! meeting new people! Yay! This is going to be fun! Okay, so since it's me we're talking about, you're probably already guessing that this ends badly. Ohhh, it's like something out of the embarassing stories section from a bad teeny bopper magazine. I show up, there's no party. It was cancelled for lack of interest the evening before, and the message never got to me, I hadn't seen the hostess since class on Thursday. Ug. How embarassing that I'm so easy to forget about. I guess I can forgive her because she doesn't know me that well, and probably didn't even remember that she invited me. Still, she loses respect points, and I get knocked down a few notches. More than anything, I was dissapointed. After getting so psyched up about going to a real live party, it sucked to have to walk back home in my pathetic little 80's get up. (fortunately, my pea coat and scarf covered just about everything that looked too absurd).

I came back in time to watch the end of LotRFotR, but shortly after (about 11:30) everyone petered out on me and went to sleep. Fortunately, I discovered that Mike's plans for the evening had also fallen through, so we went to intermezzo, then to the grocery store (I discovered the boy had never had Nutella...we had to).

Uhh....mmmmm....that's sort of an anti-climactic ending, isn't it? well, okay...so then I was abducted by this Canadian terrorist. Apparently, he mistook me for someone who had an intimate connection with Corey Feldman....see, ever since watching The Goonies, he has idolized Corey Feldman...and he's been writing letters for years and years tring to get Feldman to do another movie with Haim so that Feldman can prove once and for all that he is the better of the two Coreys on screen. Only Corey Feldman hasn't been answering his letters, so he thought that a hostage was the best way to scare the reluctant star back into the spotlight. So he saw me, and thought I was one of the head roadies for Corey's band, "The Corey Feldman Truth Movement". The Canadian Terrorist's idea was that, if I wasn't there to bring Feldman his guitar, it would create a temporary chaos on stage at his next concert, enabling the teorritist (who's name was Bill incedentally) to grab the singer/actor and cross the border with him. Of course, I'm not Corey Feldman's roadie, so a wrench was thrown into Bill's plan. So after a lot of explaining, and some promises that I won't tell anyone his plan, Bill let's me go. So that's a good ending to the night.