Les Miserables

Alright, I know.  I'm supposed to write a post about the New Year, since that is kind of what bloggers are obligated to do.  But to me, this year, at least, the New Year was literally another midnight.  I watched the last 20 seconds of the ball drop, because I felt like I should.  I spent my night, alone, in my kitchen, eating cookies, watching Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang again.  All in all, it was another midnight for me.  I've seen more midnights in the past year than in any year leading up to 2012.  So I don't want to think about it.

What I do want to think about is Les Miserables, which I finally saw today.

Two words for you guys.

HOLY. SHIT.

Well, of course I have more.  I am pretty verbose.  But those could sum up my feelings nicely, as they could mean a few things.  Like, HOLY SHIT, beautiful.  Or HOLY SHIT, I can't breathe.  Or HOLY SHIT, tears. Or HOLY SHIT, music.  Or HOLY SHIT, I can't even.

All apply, and more.

First things first, if this movie does not win all of the awards, I will be so sad.  Every single person in this movie needs to win something,  And it itself needs to win everything.  I mean, seriously.  This movie will define a good portion of my life for a few weeks, maybe a month.  Not even a joke.  I am still crying.  Then again, I did find the soundtrack online and am listening to it, like the masochist that I am.  However, in my defense, it is beautiful.  They use the actual singing from the movie, which is nice.  It is also nice to know that none of the actors were lip-syncing.  They were all singing.  And that somehow makes it worse, in a good way.

I have mixed emotions about this whole thing, can you tell?  Not truly mixed, not really. I love this movie more than you all can really grasp.  But it makes me hurt, so I don't know how good it is for me.

First things first: Hugh Jackman.  If that man doesn't win Best Actor, I will personally fly to Hollywood and change that.  The emotion that Jackman put into his version of Valjean was one of the most beautiful things I have seen in a long time.  And he apparently, for the first scene, didn't drink water for 36 hours, so all of what he did, all of the emotion, was not acting.  That was him being physically dehydrated and ill.  Can he get an AMEN or something?  Like, four for you, Hugh Jackman.  Four. For. You.  And on top of his amazing acting, dude's got some pipes.  Like, he's singing for most of the movie, and sometimes, when actors sing, it is like they are all pupils at Pierce Brosnan's School of Singing, and you want to tear your hair out, but Jackman was decidedly not a pupil there.  He blew me away with his performance.  Absolutely out of the water.  I was captivated by him.  His entire performance drew me into the movie.

Secondly, Eddie Redmayne, congratulations on your face.  You're just so cute and British, and you have so many freckles, and you did so well singing and UGH.  When he sang Empty Chairs At Empty Tables, I cried.  Bawled like a baby.  I've seen the musical, I have the soundtrack.  While I cried when I saw the musical, I did not cry anything like when I watched this movie.  I had tears pouring down my face.  My friend was making fun of me, I was crying so hard. They just need to change the name of the song from Empty Chairs At Empty Tables to Oh Look, All My Friends Are Dead!  Segueing, and when he sings A Little Fall of Rain with Eponine, I couldn't stop.  That was before, so my continuity is off, but what the hell, I don't even care.  He did a brilliant job, and I have never seen him in anything before or if I did, I didn't remember.  And, I mean, really, I would remember this face -

*cough* I have a thing for freckles.  No one judge me, alright? Alright.  Besides, he did a bang-up job.  Like, BANG UP.  How have I never seen him in anything before?  I could watch him all night, and not just because he is pretty.  Although, after the movie, when my mother and I were discussing it, we referred to him as 'The Pretty One, with the Freckles and the Eyes.'  So what if i'm shallow?  You guys still  love me.  Funnily, because the movie is like the musical in the fact that there is no speaking, minus like two or three lines, I don't know what his speaking voice sounds like.  Weird.  Whatever, I don't care.

On to Anne Hathaway.  She deserves a HOLY SHIT.  Anne Hathaway was in about a third of the movie, and her performance was one of the most stirring.  Her rendition of I Dreamed a Dream, like most of the movie, brought me to tears.  I mean, if you haven't heard it, just go listen to it.  Or listen to the whole album, I don't care.  You can find it on Youtube or Spotify.  If you only listen to one song, listen to I Dreamed a Dream.  If you aren't crying, I suspect you don't have a heart.  Or, you could be normal, and I'm the weird one.  That is a possibility.  But seriously, go listen.  I never knew she could sing, but now I will never doubt the ability of the power that is Anne Hathaway.  It doesn't hurt that she is one of my favorite actresses to begin with, so you know... I could be partial.

[EDIT: I forgot to mention that Anne Hathaway is flawless.  That is all.]

Shout out to Aaron Tveit as Enjolras.  I have the biggest voice crush on this guy.  He was in the Original Broadway Cast of Next To Normal, which is one of my favorite musicals of all time.  And he did a fantastic job as Enjolras.  His hair was curly, and it made me laugh.  But seriously, the voice on this guy.  Check out Next To Normal if you like musicals.  Or if you like crying, which, you know, is basically the same thing.

You know how I mentioned the Pierce Brosnan School of Singing?  Well, if you've seen Mamma Mia, then you know what I'm talking about.  And if you haven't, go see it, and then come back, and you will understand.  Well, Russell Crowe took a few lessons there.  Not enough to make him Pierce's best student, but enough so that you could tell he was out of his element in a few instances.  Other than that, props be had to the man.  Javert's Suicide made me crouch in my seat and hide because I couldn't watch it.  Success, I guess.  It was pretty graphic, so... Take caution, I guess.

Alright, I think that this is enough rambling.  Suffice it to say, this movie has set the bar very high for every other movie I see this year.  Yes, it is January 1st.  2013, you better have some pretty damn good movies, because this movie has set the level.

Overall, 10 out of 10.  Seriously.  I can't complain about this movie.  My complaints are minuscule compared to how much I loved it.  I can forget the things I didn't like.  I can put them out of my mind and literally just enjoy it.  I can't often do that with movies.

Alright, I need to wrap this up, I just finished listening to the album, so it seems fitting.  I am crying again, shock of the century.

I have one thing for you to do, guys.

Just go see it.

Just do it.

You will not be disappointed.

Love and kisses,
Jen

P.S. I am doing much better than I was in my last post.  Thank you all so much for your kind words and your expressions of hope.  It means more than you all know, and I am forever grateful for your support.  Seriously.  I don't know what I'd do without you guys.  Here's to a happy, healthy, new year, yeah?

See you all soon!
XOXO

April 25: I'm Really Tired and This Is The Best I Can Do

I'm obsessed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  Like obsessed obsessed.  I've seen every episode of both Buffy and Angel.  And I've read the comics.  Don't judge me!

On top of loving everything about this show, I also have a huge fangirl crush on Spike.

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Spike.

He's hot.  He's British.  He's punk.  He's sarcastic and hilarious.  In short, he's my dream guy.  Unfortunately he doesn't have a pulse, so that could be an issue.  But other than that, he's perfect.  In fact, I've written about my love of Spike before, so click here (CLICK ME I'M A LINK) if you want to read that.  It's not all about him, but he's there.

But I love Spike.  I really do.

Here is a video.  Or two.

Teehee.

Yeah, now I'm going to go to bed.

Love and kisses,

Jen

April 23: Vloggity Vlog Type Vlog

Hey there fooligans.  I was really tired today and I didn't feel all that well so I vlogged.  For the first time ever!  Hope you enjoy my face!

Love and kisses,

Jen

Edit: I apologize for the weird whistle-y s's.  It's my computer's microphone.  It's kind of bad.  Apologies!

Just Call Me Myrtle, Because I Am About To Moan...

Clever title, right? I'm full of hilariosity.  Honestly, I don't know how I live with myself.

But today isn't going to be all sunshine and roses and me being hilarious and bringing humor into your lives like a humor-bringing thing.
No. Today I'm going to moan.
If you don't like moaning, the exit is, quite literally, the X at the right or left of your screen, depending on the brand of computer you have.

Ready? Are they gone?

....

Good. If they are gone, I don't love them nearly as much as I love you all.  Honestly. I love you all much more than them.  Muchos kisses mi smallus amigos. (And I say that I'm in Spanish 3. What a laugh and a half.)

So let me tell you my story.

I have this issue where I was all high and mighty and didn't like anyone 'like that' for I want to say four years, which coming from a teenage girl, is like saying I've been a virgin lesbian monk for 79 years and that I have a beard and a moustache and I live in a cave in the Himalayas.

....

Obviously none of that is true, besides the bit about me not liking anyone for four years. But that is what I'm trying to get at. I haven't liked anyone for four years, which is nuts. My friends liked guys and fell out of like with guys and I was like their proverbial rock in the storm. They clung to my apparent freakish non-normal self because I had a clear head. That is clearly a lie, but I apparently offered the best advice on relationships, which is hilarious and ironic because I've never been in one. A relationship that is. Saying that I was going out with a guy for fifteen minutes in the sixth grade doesn't count.

Anyfloozle, this year I met a guy. Shocking beginning to the tale, I know. Like I said, I'm not a lesbian monk. But I met a guy. And he is really, really cool. And I guess it is a good thing he doesn't know that I have a blog, because then he would find this and he would know it was about him. And he would get a big inflated head and that is the last thing that I would want to happen. It's already inflated enough. But that's one of the reasons I like him, odd as that may sound.

I met him talking at a marching band parade. The first conversation we ever had we talked about how me and my friend Elliese have penis envy and we want to have one for one day only for the sole purpose of writing our names in the snow. This, ladies and germs, is what me and my friends think about. But he was funny. And we got to talking more. And, the blossom of LUUUURRRVVVE began to grow.

But then, the pruning sheers of horrible comments appeared. He said that he was like my brother. And I was all 'Suuuurrrreee!' and I said it with that horrible fake smile that feels like it has been plastered onto your face.

Then the flirting started. And there was a lot of it. I knew he was flirting with a lot of other girls, but me being vair vair pathetico, I thought I was different. So I kind of told him that I liked him. And then things left the Valley of the Casually Okay and entered the Mountains of the Majestically Awkward. We didn't talk for about a week and a half. Which, for those of you who don't know, is about seven years in teenage girl time.

So I wrote him a note like the romance novel heroine that I am and now we're friends again. But he's trying not to flirt with people anymore. Which sucks because I love hugging people. (I love hugging people. I love hugs. I will literally hug anyone. I don't care if I haven't known you that long, I will hug you.) And in trying not to flirt with people he's moaning to me about it.

And now I'm moaning to you. It's like the big circle of MOAN.

Or a pyramid of moan, since you can't moan to him about me moaning about him. Or if you can, please don't!

....

Wait, I didn't tell you his name, and as far as I know, none of you know him, so I'm in the free and clear!

Woopdedoo and PANTS!

Okay, moaning/storytime over. I just used all of you like a diary.  Keep these secrets I have told you until you are cold and in the grave. And like Andrew Marvill said, you can't date in the grave. Or, well, Marvill didn't say that. He implied it though. I had my English midterm today - can you tell?

I feel like I've wittered on enough, like a wittering thing meant to witter away.  I'll let you get back to your lives. They are probably much more interesting than mine.

Parting joke:

Two chemists walk into a bar. The first guy says to the bartender "Hey, I'll have some H2O!" The second guy goes "That sounds good. I'll have some H2O2."
The second guy died.

Love and kisses,
Jen

THIS IS IMPORTANT! CLICK THIS! PLEASE! I BEG ALL OF YOU!!!!

http://www.thethoughtreportofficial.blogspot.com/
Click this link.
This link will lead you to a magical place that will change your life.
Or, if it doesn't change your life, if you buy a copy of this book, it will go to an amazing charity, the Bulembu Project.
http://www.bulembu.org/
This will lead you to it, so click on it, and read about it, because it is so worth it.
I'm writing two articles for it, and so are every other person working on this project.
They are all fantastic writers, and awesome people, so go check them out.  Here they all are:

Lewis Shaw - Editor - Hampshire, England -

www.stuffwhatiwrote.blogspot.com

Founder and Editor of The Thought Report project, Lewis Shaw is a British student, living and working in a small town 40 miles from London. He runs his own company where he wears plaid shirts and jumps around on bouncy castles. In addition to running his blog and the project, he has also done volunteer work, planning and executing a trip to Bulembu in Swaziland, and working in a mental institution.

Jessica Teng - Xi'an, China - www.lemons-dont-make-lemonade.blogspot.com

Jessica Teng is a ridiculously talented fifteen-year-old who spends her time being a role model for less awesome human beings. Jessica is also a deranged, guy deprived homeschooler living under a rock.To distract herself from her almost unexistent social life, Jessica plays online Scrabble, draws pretentiously complex abstract art, and runs her blog, Lemons Don't Make Lemonade.

Ashendra Silva - Brisbane, Australia - www.cheesecakeparadox.blogspot.com

Ashendra Silva is a Sri-Lankan born computer technician living in Brisbane, Australia. He spends his days goofing off at work, taking pictures of people taking pictures and living off of a strict diet of canned meals and cheesecake. He is also rumoured to be a Freemason, but no evidence has yet been found.

Elisabeth Davis - Texas, USA - www.bookishspazz.blogspot.com

Lizzi Dee is a Native Born Texan, honors student, and blogger from Longview, Texas. She's an avid overachiever, skilled speechmaker, and editor of her school yearbook. She likes philosophy, Doctor Who, and doesn't like watching films with other people.

Jennelle Barosin - Massachusetts, USA - www.ramblingzombies.blogspot.com

Thrilled to talk in the third person about herself, Jen Barosin is a full time nerd and part time high school student from Massachusetts. She enjoys writing, chocolate, and initiating awkward conversations with whichever victim she chooses.

Ross Gilligan - Oxfordshire, UK - www.cookie-ross.blogspot.com

Ross Gilligan is a Professional Science Person and wannabe Airline Pilot from Oxfordshire, UK. When he's not combining sleeping pills and tequila in some of England's finest establishments, you can find him in a science lab doing clever stuff, writing on his blog, or sitting in his room making plane noises. Mostly the latter.

Jennifer Grudziecki - New York, USA - www.secretlifeofanenglishteacher.blogspot.com

Jennifer Grudziecki is a Kings College Sophomore and semi-permanent Sparknotes intern, currently making her home among the concrete mountains of New York. She likes editing to the point of obnoxiousness, and forcing her friends to eat burnt cookies.

Ken Stevens - UK - www.grumpyoldken.com

A retired schoolteacher from the United Kingdom, Ken Stevens has led quite a varied career - from classrooms to barbershops, Woolworths to window dressing, offices, farms, door to door sales, and now writing - not only a hugely successful blog, but on The Thought Report as well.

King Rhetoric - www.cagedgreatness.com

Somewhere amongst the misty snow-capped peaks of deepest, darkest Canada, resides the nameless enigma of the Thought Report team. Whether he's a bearded Santa Claus impersonator in a lumberjack shirt or an acne covered teenager in suspenders, we will never know his true identity - all we know is, he excels at what he does.

Fickle Cattle - Manila, Phillipines - www.ficklecattle.blogspot.com

Von Bryan Cuerpo (A.K.A. Fickle Cattle) is a lawyer and writer from Manila, capital of the Philippines. When he isn't doing law things or updating his award-winning blog, he likes to spend his time thinking hard about what he would do if he had spare time.

Ann Cordner - Spalding, UK - www.retiredandcrazy.com

Having spent 2010 travelling Eastwards from London to New York in aid of Marie Curie Cancer Care after her husbands life was taken by cancer, 71 year-old Ann Cordner felt she should just push out the metaphorical boat, and got involved with The Thought Report team. A true example of fundraisers at their finest.

Wag the Dad  - Vienna, Austria - www.wagthedad.com

'Wag the Dad' is a husband of one, father of three, friend to many and corporate drone from the US, living in Vienna, Austria. He spends his time balancing work, kids, reading, working out, going out, television, and his pretty damn useful blog, Wag the Dad.

I kind of just copied the blog.  But if you want to go see the site, click my first link.  Seriously.  Click it.  Or I will send legions of my flying monkeys to get you.  And I do have legions.  I keep them in my pockets.  I have lots of pockets.

So go buy a copy of this book!  Well, er, it isn't quite out yet, so just go check out the website and get some views on the site.

I will be eternally grateful.

Now I have to go write my articles, and do a history project, and do my NaNoWriMo, which is slowly turning into a NaNoWriWhenEverIHaveTimeToWriteANovel.  But it will get done.  Mark my words.

So, go check out the site.  Seriously.

Okay, I'm done with the shameless plugging.  Go check it out!!!!  Okay, now I'm done.

Love and kisses all,

L.

(Oh, and if you didn't know, I'm Jennelle Barosin.  I know that I've mentioned my name before, but better safe than sorry.)

A Realization In The Shower

And no, that wasn't a ploy to get you all to think of my washing my hair, but you are all now thinking of that, aren't you?  I am a diabolical mastermind.

Anyway, as I was realizing that one of my second toes is longer than my big toe, but the other one isn't, I had a realization.

Most of the people on YouTube are all Liberal Arts majors that have happened or are waiting to happen.  The makes me fear greatly for my job in the future, because I am in now way, shape, or form, as talented as them.

This makes me feel kind of insignificant.

Oh, the existential thoughts I think in the tub at 6:00 in the morning.

God, I hate talented people.

Ah, well, Tararara!

Love and kisses,

L.

IF YOU CLICK THE LINK IN THIS POST, I WILL GIVE YOU A POSITION OF POWER IN MY GOVERNMENT WHEN I TAKE OVER THE WORLD WITH MIND CONTROLLING PORPOISES!!!!

CLICK THIS!!!!
My school is entered in the Glee Give a Note Contest, and we need, and I need, you guys' help!!!
Go to this link once a day, from multiple IP addresses if you could, and vote up my school! 

I know that I'm foisting this on you guys, but I really need your help to get money for my music program. 

Music is really important to me, and I would love it if you guys would help. 

Seriously, I would be forever in your debt. 

You can have my first born child!!!!

I'll name the kid after you, and then give it to you!  It can be your slave and feed you grapes or other shit!!!

Just clicky the linky and make me a very happy person!!!

Plus, I'm in the video.  Yes, I am.  Near the end, and it is awesome.  I'm lip-synching to Don't Stop Believing.  I'm the one with short hair who is being awesome. You will know me when you see me.  I exude awesome.  For realzies, you guys. [Update:  you see me for like one second.  It is near the very end; I'm singing and I have a flute.  I'm wearing a dark, long sleeved t-shirt.  Just so you know that I exist and I'm not just some hologram of awesome all of you have simultaneously hallucinated about.]

Please help.  It would be awesome.  And I would love you for it.

I will write a proper, non-foisty post later this week.  K?  K.

LOVE AND KISSES AND CLICK THE LINK!!!! :D

Jen

Life Is An STD That Is Always Fatal

Lovelypoos! I'm back!  I'm not dead!  I didn't fall off the face of the earth!  I wasn't eaten by rabid walruses!  I just had a really big history project due, and that took up all of my time.  It won't happen again.  Kidding, it probably will happen.  All the time.  So sorry about that.

I'm going to confess something to you all that I haven't actually confessed out loud, not even when I'm talking to myself.

Prepare yourselves for what may seem like deep-rooted self esteem issues mixed in with some adolescent hormonal moaning.  But don't worry; It's just sleep deprivation.

I'm afraid that I'm defective.  I know that that sounds awful and terrible, but I do.  I have two friends, yes?  I have them in most of my classes, and during PE we sit in the corner of the gymnasium on the mats and talk about stuff (yes, for all of you who are wondering, I'm passing this class with an A, thank you very much).  Mostly the stuff we talk about is boys, because we are girls. 

Now my two friends, both of them openly have crushes on boys, I guess is the way to put it.  Both of them have had multiple boyfriends and they both get boys to like them really easily.

Here is where I feel like I'm defective.  I can't get a guy to like me.  Like ever.  I've had a grand total of one boyfriend, and that was for fifteen minutes in the sixth grade.  I've never been kissed, and I doubt any self-respecting guy has even thought about kissing me, regardless of how horny he was.

And I don't feel a need to always like a guy.  I haven't 'had a crush' since sixth grade.  At least on anyone attainable.  I have 'idea crushes', as in, I love the idea of someone, like a celebrity.  Or I get really attached to a voice.  Or a character in a book.  But not on anyone real.  Does that make me defective?  Or weird?

I am kind of worried that I'm going to end up lonely and alone because I have trouble making connections with people.  I feel like people think that I'm aloof.  I guess sometimes I do act like that.  It's my own fault.  I act aloof and use caustic sarcasm as a way to hide the fact that I have no idea how to act and that I actually am quite shy.

People have said that one of my great qualities is no fear to talk to strangers and a vast knowledge that allows me to relate to anyone.  If only they knew.

Okay, so that was deeply personal, I'm so sorry that I just subjected you to that.

I love you all.  Seriously.

Parting joke:

Why did the dolphin commit suicide?

Because his life had no porpoise!

Love and kisses,

L.

If You Fit These Requirements, Find Me Right Away And Propose Marriage

Confession time: I've only had one boyfriend. And it was in sixth grade and it only lasted the time it takes to walk in between classes, so I don't think that it counts. Also, I'm in the Never Been Kissed Club. In fact, I'm the Chairman. Chairwoman. Chairgirl. Whatever, you get my point.

Anyway, my solidarity has not been forcibly thrust upon me, but there are a few reasons why I am not shackled in a doomed relationship at the current date and time. One of the reasons is that the town I live in is so obscenely small and I've known all of the boys in it for far too long. They all have an idea of who I am - a very intelligent smart ass (I never said that they were wrong!) - and they really don't feel like trying to get to know me any better. Pity for them.

I am A-OK with this. I wouldn't want to date any of the guys I know anyway. My two closest guy friends are insane. One is a cat-worshipping atheist with an IQ so high I wonder why he meows all the time, and the other is an amazing track star who has issues with touching and expressing emotions.

I wish that I could make stuff like this up.

I really do.

Another reason why I am not dating a male of this species is that I feel that I, as a person, am so not emotionally mature enough to deal with it. Seriously. I have the emotional range of a spoon. Less than that. I have the emotional range of the spork, the sterile offspring of the fork and the spoon. My friends all are very interested in boys, and while I do agree that they are often nice to look at and talk to, I don't feel the deep seated need to prove myself as an adequate female by dating. All that can wait until college. Besides, high school guys are soooo passe. I kid. Not really.

A final reason is that I am quite an adept story teller.

Why is this important, you wonder, scratching your heads and sipping your tea thoughtfully.

I'll tell you - As a story teller, writer, future millionaire, what have you, I create characters. Lots and lots of characters. And quite a few of these characters are boys.

Catch my drift?

I have, in my head, created my perfect man. Boy. Person. Shut up brain, they all get the point.

So, without further ado, here is my list of requirements for the perfect man. Or my perfect man. Screw it, this is what I find attractive.

JENNELLE'S LIST OF ATTRACTIVE ATTRIBUTES FOR MALES OF THE HUMAN SPECIES

1. Height - height is a necessity. I cannot marry a short guy. I'm 5 feet, 1 inch flat. I will not have midget children. We all saw what happened to Snooki. Although, if I did have midget children, I would pressure them into becoming actors and actresses, because the movie industry always needs their midgets. I'm already a horrible parent. Teehee.

2. Accents - Of any way, shape, or form. I love all accents. Especially British ones. Yummy scrumboes. Just pretend to have an accent and you will have me falling into a pile of girlish jello on the ground, giggling like a girlish pile of jello that is a homicidal maniac.

3. Religion - I know that this sounds weird, but since I'm Jewish, I kind of want to marry someone Christian, or some other religion. My mum is a lapsed Irish Catholic, and my dad is a non-practicing Reform Jew. What does that make me? A Jew who celebrates Christmas and Easter, along with Hanukkah and Passover. I feel more culturally attached to Judaism, and consider myself Jewish, but I want my kids to have the multi-religious celebrations in their life. I think that you find a greater appreciation for all things when you see all of the sides of the dice. So religion is important. And I won't be able to marry anyone who doesn't let me teach my children about what I believe in. Shit just got real, right? Next one's vapid.

4. Marginally More Attractive Than I Am - That way, when people see me with him, especially women, they will look at me and go "Lucky BITCH!!!" But I don't want him to be so much more attractive than me that when people look at me and him they go "Why the hell is that poor sucker with that night troll?" I do have standards for myself.

5. No Mental Illnesses - Seriously, homicidal maniacs are good for a laugh and all, and multiple personality disorderlies are just full of shits and giggles, and schizos are just a barrel of monkeys, but there is a point where you have to draw the line and be like "WHOA, you just stabbed the couch and told it that if it tried to make a move on me you would kill its family. I'm going."

6. Muscles Are Appreciated, But Not A Necessity - I do like muscles as much as the next girl, but honestly they aren't necessary. It's the 21st century. If we were back in the days of the CroMagnon, then yes, I'd like a guy with muscles to protect me with from all of the woolly mammoths and saber-toothed tigers roaming around outside of our cave. But, like I said, it's the 21st century. The only thing my guy would have to protect me from is the yappy chihuahua that lives down the street. But a six pack is nice.

7. Has To Like Rock Music - This is a necessity. I love rock music. I live on rock music. When I was little, my dad introduced me to the Beatles in chronological order. I am a music nerd. So my theoretical guy must like music. All music. Except country music. Country music can burn in HELL.

8. Cannot Make Fun Of My Love Of Musical Theater - And should preferably be into acting himself. Example: Joey Richter (Ron in A Very Potter Musical).

9. Has To Be A Literature Geek - The answer to life is 42. Deep Thought told me that. I woke up one morning and found that I couldn't open the door because the doorknob made me feel sick and empty on the inside. If you're going to leave Verona, take a phone with you and text me your plans. I wouldn't want you to die on me. I will never grow up. I will fight that stupid hooked man until I die, but I never will, so HAHAHA I crow! It is common knowledge that a lit geek in want of another lit geek should find one eventually. If you got any of that, you are my love.

10. Has To Be Musical - I know that that is a lot to ask, but a guy gets exponentially hotter to me if he can play an instrument. Seriously.

11. GEEKY - This has to happen. I want one of those awesome nerdy relationships where we meet at ComiCon and end up having a wedding cake that is a chimera of PacMan and Star Wars. I want him to say "I love you" first, so I can say "I know", like Leia did to Han in The Return of the Jedi. I need this guy to be OK with consoling me when I cry inconsolably at Toy Story and Finding Nemo. I need this guy to be OK with me laughing at Saw, which I found so horribly overdone and fake. I need this guy to have debates with me over who Buffy was better with, Spike or Angel (it was Spike, the way. Forever and ever. "I love you." "No you don't. But thanks for saying it." I cried so hard.) (If you got what I was talking about there, I love you.). I need this guy to be okay when I leave him for David Tennant.

12. Movie Buff - "Oh Captain, my Captain." "Such obscene gestures from such a pristine girl." "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." "You bob for apples in the toilet, and you like it!" "There is no try, only do." "Do you remember that time we dipped you in tar and stuck you to the back of an angry water buffalo?" "'Where are my pants?' 'They're in my hope chest!'" "Lighten up, Francis." "I would rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without ever knowing you." "Seriously, don't call me Shirley." If you know what movies any of the quotes above are from, I love you forever.

13. Must Have Heaping Portions Of Sarcasm And Witticisms To Spare - I pride myself on sometimes having an acerbic wit, and I would like whoever I end up shacking up with to at least be on the same level as me. In other words, my dream guy must be incredibly quick-witted. I love good verbal foreplay.

14. Black Hair, Blue Eyes - I don't know what it is, but something about this combination is just really sexy to me. I also want blue eyed kids, and I know for a fact that I carry a recessive blue-eye allele.

15. Disregard Everything Above - For the most part. I do like certain things (science fiction TV shows from Britain, movies, Rock music, being sarcastic) but honestly, I don't care about any of it. So long as a guy is respectful, treats me right, and feels the same way about me that I feel about him, I could give a flying fuck about anything else. I am a hopeless romantic under all of these onion-y layers of poisonous wit and sarcastic barbs. I may seem cynical but underneath it all I really am just a wide eyed little kid who has no idea about love or anything that resembles it. I kind of just bared my soul there, so don't laugh. Or I will kill you and hide your body in the bog in my backyard, and in 2000 years it will be found, perfectly preserved, with the words "Hello From The Past" legible on your back where I wrote it in indelible ink. I'm not creepy at all.

Yeah, so that was my extremely long, involved list that ultimately didn't mean anything at all. I hope you enjoyed reading it. I certainly had fun creating it. (I lie; I spent hours slaving over it, quietly crying into my pillow as I agonized over the right words.) (I lie; it took me about an hour and I didn't proofread, so no hating on my spelling mishaps.)

So, um...

I hate ending posts.

Parting joke:

What do you call a sick alligator?

An illigator!

I know, I know, so lame. I collect lame jokes as a hobby. No judging.

Big sopping kisses to you all.