get me out of this cavern or I'll cave in
I'm listening to Owl City right now to help reengage the section of my brain devoted to being at least kind of happy.
Last night, after a wonderful round of watching Trigun and hanging out with the Anime Club, I went to hang out with three of the sophomore members, two of which somehow talked me and the other one (Chloe, who is now my new bff, forged in trauma) into seeing the Japanese movie Ichi the Killer. Don't watch this movie. Don't ever watch it. I sincerely mean this. It is a sick deranged movie produced by sick deranged people about a bunch of sick deranged fucks. I can't stress this enough. Chloe and I spent most of the movie moaning dear god why are we watching this movie, it's sick and it doesn't even make sense. Even after the plot is explained, it still doesn't make sense. It's sickeningly violent, disturbingly so towards women, and there are no sympathetic characters. Like, no, you are not supposed to root for anyone in this movie. I walked away from it deciding to repress it for the rest of my life.
And then this morning, when I went to have my breakfast/lunch, I opened the student newspaper to one wonderfully written column bemoaning the terrible attitudes people have towards femininity, and two editorials that practically dripped smug male privilege, to the point where I wished the authors would be tied in a chair with their eyelids taped open and forced to watch Ichi the Killer over and over until they bit off their own tongues to kill themselves. Of course, the nice column is the column written by the spokesperson for the LGBTQ community on campus, so guess how many people are going to favor that one over the smug assy articles? Yeah.
My roommate is just so... Everything she does drives me to the brink of punching a hole in the wall. She is so saccharinely passive-aggressive about the way I keep my side of the room (which is not even half as cluttered as her side is, purely on the virtue of she has so much shit -- okay, yes, she is an international student thousands of miles away from home, I know this and I sympathize, but god). She paints her nails so the room fills with acetone fumes and then opens the windows in the dead of winter in upstate New York, and then gets passive-aggressive with me when I attempt to close the windows ("We have to change the air." Maybe we wouldn't have to change the air if you goddamn did things in the bathroom, where they belong. Another example of this is her tendency to pour mouthwash into her mouth in the room, walk around with her mouth full of it, sometimes even try to communicate with me with grunts and hand gestures while unable to speak, and then walk to the bathroom to rinse. Why in god's name would you do that??). She makes all kinds of noises that I hate -- she has this way of clicking her tongue mindlessly and incessantly while doing things that makes me feel like my brain is being slowly tapped out of my skull with a child's mallet. Also, she physically cannot eat without making a disgusting cacophony of chewing sounds that you could record and use to torture prisoners. Is she capable of closing her mouth while she eats???
And of course, I smile and say nothing because other than these habits, I genuinely do like her as a person, and I have confrontation. But this is beginning to get to the point where I want to punch her every time she opens her mouth.
I think I'm going to write a letter to the paper commenting angrily on the misogynism of those two articles while praising the column. Or something. I feel so upset and impotent lately; I think I just need to get up and do something proactive to make myself feel better.
Last night, after a wonderful round of watching Trigun and hanging out with the Anime Club, I went to hang out with three of the sophomore members, two of which somehow talked me and the other one (Chloe, who is now my new bff, forged in trauma) into seeing the Japanese movie Ichi the Killer. Don't watch this movie. Don't ever watch it. I sincerely mean this. It is a sick deranged movie produced by sick deranged people about a bunch of sick deranged fucks. I can't stress this enough. Chloe and I spent most of the movie moaning dear god why are we watching this movie, it's sick and it doesn't even make sense. Even after the plot is explained, it still doesn't make sense. It's sickeningly violent, disturbingly so towards women, and there are no sympathetic characters. Like, no, you are not supposed to root for anyone in this movie. I walked away from it deciding to repress it for the rest of my life.
And then this morning, when I went to have my breakfast/lunch, I opened the student newspaper to one wonderfully written column bemoaning the terrible attitudes people have towards femininity, and two editorials that practically dripped smug male privilege, to the point where I wished the authors would be tied in a chair with their eyelids taped open and forced to watch Ichi the Killer over and over until they bit off their own tongues to kill themselves. Of course, the nice column is the column written by the spokesperson for the LGBTQ community on campus, so guess how many people are going to favor that one over the smug assy articles? Yeah.
My roommate is just so... Everything she does drives me to the brink of punching a hole in the wall. She is so saccharinely passive-aggressive about the way I keep my side of the room (which is not even half as cluttered as her side is, purely on the virtue of she has so much shit -- okay, yes, she is an international student thousands of miles away from home, I know this and I sympathize, but god). She paints her nails so the room fills with acetone fumes and then opens the windows in the dead of winter in upstate New York, and then gets passive-aggressive with me when I attempt to close the windows ("We have to change the air." Maybe we wouldn't have to change the air if you goddamn did things in the bathroom, where they belong. Another example of this is her tendency to pour mouthwash into her mouth in the room, walk around with her mouth full of it, sometimes even try to communicate with me with grunts and hand gestures while unable to speak, and then walk to the bathroom to rinse. Why in god's name would you do that??). She makes all kinds of noises that I hate -- she has this way of clicking her tongue mindlessly and incessantly while doing things that makes me feel like my brain is being slowly tapped out of my skull with a child's mallet. Also, she physically cannot eat without making a disgusting cacophony of chewing sounds that you could record and use to torture prisoners. Is she capable of closing her mouth while she eats???
And of course, I smile and say nothing because other than these habits, I genuinely do like her as a person, and I have confrontation. But this is beginning to get to the point where I want to punch her every time she opens her mouth.
I think I'm going to write a letter to the paper commenting angrily on the misogynism of those two articles while praising the column. Or something. I feel so upset and impotent lately; I think I just need to get up and do something proactive to make myself feel better.