divine angst

I’m watching Independence Day on TV right now, and I have a few questions that did not occur to me in the summer of 1996, when this movie came out (and I remember that VERY clearly, because that was the same summer I worked at summer camp and was in the Beastie Boys car accident).

Anyhoo, here’s what I wonder:

The aliens obviously knew enough about Earth to know what cities were important—or at least that there were many cities to choose from and which ones would be best to destroy (a disproportionate number were western, but that’s neither here nor there). So if they knew this, why did they not know other things, like that most world leaders would take to safety under a mountain? Or that SOMEONE (and likely not Jeff Goldblum, in the REAL WORLD) would realize why satellite communications were cut off? Why didn’t they keep monitoring Earth, via whatever method they used to figure out that LA and DC were more important than Duluth, and blast other things, like major roads, nuclear reactors, or water supplies? Basically, I wish the writers and directors had made the aliens think more like aliens and not like stupid Earth villains.

That is all.

(And yes, I skipped my yoga class tonight. Sue me.)

Have you seen the ads for Morgan Spurlock’s new show? I didn’t see Super Size Me (I don’t need to see a human working on becoming foie gras), but the previews for this new show look pretty damn funny. I might watch it for a bit, until it gets old (like Queer Eye did).

I don’t want to jinx anything, so I’m not going to be specific here, but I just want to say that some very good things might be happening in the next few days/weeks and I am Very Excited about Them.

Even if you don’t have any clue what I’m talking about, send many waves of good wishes that these Good Things do, in fact, happen.

Dear Phlebotomist:

I know I was the first person in your lab this morning—after all, I saw you straggling in five minutes after you should have been there, with your coffee and pastry. I know you really wanted to eat your breakfast and watch the TV in the waiting room instead of poking me with a needle.

So I’m sorry I messed up your morning plan—but you didn’t have to take it out on my vein! I’ll be sore for days, and every time I wince as I bend my elbow, I’ll think of you, your ponytail, and your almond croissant. Thanks.

Kristine