A Cornucopia of Matters...NSFC! (Not safe for CHILDREN!)

I swear. I know I may not be the best at grammar, or English, or writing, or speaking, or anything, really, but I do appreciate the honest attempt to write, speak or ... I don't know, burp the English language. (I'm sure I'd appreciate the honest attempt to write, speak or burp other languages, but I'm not fluent in any other, so alas, I must stick with English. Curse my unilinguity. I made up a word. Unilinguity. Uni-linguity?)

The review for Spelling Bee was in the school newspaper this week.

It was terrible. To say the least. I think I wrote better pieces of literature when I was in middle school. I mean, if we all thought that the man who writes for the local newspaper, a former sports columnist, was bad, this reviewer just came bounding and leaping ahead of him and took first prize in the Really Crappy Composition Contest. (See what I did with the alliteration there? Clever.)

Not only was it a summary of the plot, a really horribly, criminally vomitous summary (more made up words!), but it went in depth into the most random events of the play. It was as if someone had handed him/her a script and said, "Here, I know you didn't see this show, but please write a review for the paper by tomorrow." So they took the script, identified each character, and then described them by directly quoting Rona's speller comments, like "Leaf Coneybear makes his own clothes," and "Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre is the head of the gay straight alliance at her middle school" (which is incorrect, it is her elementary school).

If you are the author of this article and are reading this blog, I apologize for ripping you to shreds so brutally, and in a public (well, semi-public, I have no clue how many people actually read this) domain, but if you're going to call yourself an Entertainment Writer, then you should learn something about entertainment, and writing. Or if you give the excuse that it wasn't as important an article as say a research piece or an interview, then you definitely should not have been given this assignment, because to some of us, theatre and the performances we give at this institution are of the utmost importance, and should not be taken lightly.

Thank you for reading this rant that went from semi-light hearted to really bitchy in about 2 paragraphs.

And I know that I'm no linguist, what right do I have to judge someone's abilities (or incapabilities) so highly? I've just made up 2 words in one blog. But at least I made them up and used them in ways that appeared to fit in with correct grammatical structure quite seamlessly. Like vomitous. And uni-linguity.

Anyway. I think I've ranted enough now.

So I'm browsing my Facebook, right? And I see that a lot of my friends have changed their profile pictures to either Pokemons, or Disney characters. Now, I heard through the grapevine (a really lame grapevine) that this month is "Pokemon month," but I hated Pokemon when I was a kid so I will not have any part of "Pokemon month." (Seriously, when we were kids, if you liked Pokemon, we wouldn't have been friends.) But what's with the Disney characters? So I perused some profiles and found this:

"Change your profile picture to a cartoon from your childhood. The goal? To not see a human face on Facebook until Monday the 6th of Dec. Join the fight against child abuse and invite your friends to do the same."

Ah, I thought to myself. I thought people were just rebelling against Pokemon. But they actually have just cause! (Although honestly, both were good reasons. I would have totally participated in rebellion of Pokemon.)

So now I'm sitting here deciding whether to use Rocko from Rocko's Modern Life, or Eeyore. Because I love me some Eeyore, but I also very much love Rocko.

I've decided on Eeyore, after looking at images on Google. He's just too cute. So pleasantly depressing, you always just want to run up to him and give him a hug when he utters, "Thanks for noticin'."

In all honesty...now that I'm thinking about it, I don't really understand how posting a picture of a cartoon character on Facebook in replacement of your own face will stop child abuse...don't get me wrong, I'm all against child abuse, but really...? I don't know. Enlighten me, someone, I'd love to hear from you.

Speaking of which, I'm pretty sure all you have to have is a google account to comment on this blog. So even if you don't want to make a blog to simply leave a comment here, you don't have to. You just need google. :)

So I've decided to leave my face. Because it is I who am against child abuse, not Eeyore. He doesn't exist.

And neither does Santa.

What??

Let's segue into another story from Molly's childhood, shall we?

When I was 9, I found out that Santa wasn't real. Yes, I was 9. That is a bit old to be believing that a jolly old man wearing furry boots, riding in a sleigh pulled by magical flying reindeer really landed on my roof and squeezed down the chimney and left every single child in the whole world gifts on Christmas Eve. Sue me.

But I was 9. And it was our weekly German class. The teacher was babbling about something and spitting while he spoke, as he usually did, and the subject of Santa came up because the season was upon us. He suddenly said that Santa wasn't real, and not to tell the younger students (i.e. the kindergartners, first graders). I was devastated. During the bathroom break, my friends and I discussed the horrifying news in the hallway, and I went home that day and cried to my mom.

I'm a nerd.

Merry Christmas....

Peace.

Molly