akawhiplady

♥

About a week ago, the new Chekov from Star Trek popped into my mind and I've been on an Anton Yelchin bender ever since.

I've watched:

Fierce People
Law and Order: CI (episode Tru Love)
Alpha Dog
Charlie Bartlett
Hearts in Atlantis

He's just got these big old puppy eyes and tiny figure that makes you want to BEAT AND/OR RAPE AND/OR SHOOT HIM TO DEATH which happens in every single one of those movies I've seen so far (except for Star Trek, but that doesn't count). Obviously this is quite agreeable to my viewer needs.

It's disconcerting, however, that in each of these movies where his character is victimized (and usually quite violently), he just happens to have a mother who is neglectful, or absent, or just "bad." It's a shame.

I still have a small list of movies left to go. I bet they will fall into this pattern.

Quite excited - not right this second, but was earlier. This semester is my theory class for Anthro (which is supposed to prepare you for senior seminar) and we have to write three papers through the semester, 8 pages each. I put the first off for longer than I should have. I spent like, 3 days holed up in the student computing center writing it. The professor, Starrett, is a really funny and nice guy (kind of stern at first glance) but apparently he doesn't like to give A's. A couple people who sit next to me in class had him for a different class and they promised me that for him, a B is an A. In fact, the syllabus basically agrees with that - the rubric says "An A is everything a B is, but goes beyond. Is a joy to read." I interpreted that to mean it is a B work but with extra smooth finesse.

There are 18 people in our class, and it was due last week, and he came into class today looking angry as fuck and at the end of class before he gave out the papers he told us more or less: "I've had a horrible few days grading these. They are not the work I'd expect from a senior. There are a few D's in there, a few C's and even some F's. There are a couple of B's. The people who came in to talk to me about their papers during the writing process did better than the rest. I don't want you to feel panicked - there is still time left to fix this - but I do want you to feel bad."

I didn't go in to get help with mine so it was quite nerve wracking up to that point even though I was super excited all day to get the grades back. He supposedly gives really long, in-depth comments in the margins, and I always love feedback, even when it's bad (cause I'm masochistic about my writing). His speech left me figuring that B's were the highest he'd given out this time. Imagine my surprise when there were barely any comments on my paper - just a few vague markings where he apparently approved of what I wrote, and then a comment at the end saying it was sophisticated, thoughtful and elegantly written. I got me an A! No where to go now but down, haha.

Unrelated but deserving of note: dad had his surgery (like a fuckin' month ago, where have I been with updating this thing?) and he's been doing the chemo for a couple weeks now. There are a couple small spots on his liver. I guess it's too soon to know how well it's working, but we remain positive.

Day before yesterday I cleverly deduced that alia sabotaged my precious christmas stocking makeup. She became mildly perturbed when I informed mother that "there is a possibility that your daughter is a retard," at which point fisticuffs occured and my glasses got mashed in the process. They're functional, but one of the lenses won't pop all the way back in and they sit crookedly on my face (moreso than usual.)

Yesterday my parents' old friend Louay came to visit; he was friends with them in college and left charlotte when I was about 3, in 1993, to live in Lebanon. I believe they hadn't seen him since then - or mom hasn't anyway - and I never really remembered him or saw pictures of us together, but it was still really fun. He was really nice and funny and talked about my maternal grandmother and how mom and dad used to make fun of him for carrying a pen around in his shirt pocket at all times.

In the evening we went to a roof party where I made friends with a nice little girl named Yasmina who is about 6, and approximately my 3rd cousin. She does a remarkable impression of a small zombie (with growls and bites.) And also a stripper (those are her moms words.)

Today we went to a brunch-lunch at the little girl's house. I didn't want to go because I've had a spectacular headache where it hurts to touch my right eyeball and look in my peripherals, but the best I got away with was a postponement while mom took Alia to the hospital for strep throat. in the end, we had fun. The little girl's mom, Julia, has a very pretty home with a great deck on the 7th floor. So, plenty of shade and breeze.

Somewhere along the way we used up all the internet. Apparently there was a download limit, but to us download means like, limewire, whereas apparently it means stuff like youtube as well. So now we're back to rudimentary internet sharing on my uncle's computer.

Day before yesterday, Manal drove us to Byblos. It was strange having the ocean on one side of your and mountains curling around the rest of you. They're just so much more immediate here; when you drive to the mountains in north carolina you barely see them, it's so gradual. And these mountains are lit up because they've got people on them - our mountains have like, squirrels on them. It's pretty dazzling, how the land rises up and the little pinpricks of lights all over them. There were some fireworks, and frankly, against the backdrop of the mountains, they're really... redundant feeling. We ate at a restaurant. I ordered a banana split and they never brought it. We stopped by a shop afterwards to pick up a drink and they had a baby squirrel in a bird cage. I let it sniff my finger before I tried to pet it, but mom just shoved her fingers in there and loved on it. It was apparently not prone to biting.

Yesterday Ahmad took us (excluding Alia, who was sick enough to stay home) to Tyre where we partook in walking through an old town thing that was just, surreally old. They were like inhabited catacombs or something I can't really describe. The peoples homes were mixed in with markets. We saw the chateaux de la mer which, of course, was antique beyond comprehension for americans. We then ate at this place next to the sea, but it was at that time that I began to feel flu-like symptoms (shivers, hotness, soreness.) The service was shitty but the atmosphere, I guess, makes up for it. The food was alright but I'd lost my apetite the day before and it hadn't returned completely. There was a family sitting diagonal to us, two tanned, dirty-blonde parents and their two tanned, platinum blonde childre. The woman was tall, and the man looked like Ralph fiennes. I think the son had some sort of mild retardation. Ahmad thought they were Swedish, but I thought the children were speaking German - when the parents spoke it wasn't so clear.

Today Ahmad's babymama came over and got into a fight with my grandmother and it involved slapping and shoving and yelling in arabic. sarah was crying in the bathtub, and it was pretty sad and rather strange. I still haven't completely recovered my apetite. We've all been sick since practically when we arrived.