Thanksgiving

So I was talking to Laura Kling the other day, and we both mentioned that we compulsively check the blog on a weekly basis. Sometimes daily. Usually daily. Anyway. Laura has convinced me that it's just stupid to keep checking the blog, hoping someone will post something new, and leaving without writing something of my own. And so came about the decision to write this post.

I don't have much to say. I never do. I think this is generally what keeps people from posting on the blog. I certainly don't want to waste anyone's time with my ramblings. But I will. I think it's more likely that we just want an acknowledgment that the TASPers still exist. So I have less qualms about the meandering style of this post.

Thanksgiving is upon us. In 2 hours and 41 minutes, American Thanksgiving begins. I don't know how all of you feel about Thanksgiving, but it's one of my favorite holidays. I really like eating. And not cooking or cleaning. Usually, my mom does the last two, and I do the first one. We'll see how I feel about this whole 'adult' thing once I have to clean up after myself on Thanksgiving. Anyway, I'm eating my Thanksgiving dinner with some friends who live in the dorm. I'm too poor to be taking a jaunt back to Chandler for a four day weekend. It may be a sad and awkward Thanksgiving. I hope not. I really like Thanksgiving.

Okay, so, I'm done wasting space. What is everyone else doing for Thanksgiving? When is the next time we can all see each other? Plans for winter break? Spring break? Summer? Non-break visitation? Let me know.

Wax Attack!

Back in the '70's, my mom was commissioned to sculpt the political and religious figures for Ireland's National Wax Museum. She used to teach sculpture classes at the community college here, but made money doing crap in wax for Madame Tussauds, Ripley's Believe it or Not, and a bunch of other random museums (if you're ever in Wall, South Dakota, go to the Wild West Museum to see my dad appear about 80 million times as a background character at the OK Corral, a bartender in a saloon with Billy the Kid in it, and so on -- hilarious).

Anyway, my brother stumbled on an article today about the National Wax Museum:

Josef Stalin, Adolf Hitler and Franklin D. Roosevelt are missing their clothes and Fred Flintstone and the Teletubbies are just plain missing after a raid on wax figures owned by Ireland's National Wax Museum.

At least 50 figures were stolen or wrecked several weeks ago, the museum reported Monday. The wax museum, closed since 2005, has been storing its 400 figures in a warehouse while it works to reopen this fall.

Police say they suspect a door was left unlocked and the warehouse was used for an all-night rave party but museum officials discount that theory.

Also stripped of their clothes were Winston Churchill, Charles de Gaulle and rebel icons from Ireland's war of independence with Britain, including Michael Collins and Padraig Pearse.

Most figures stolen came from the Children's World of Fairy Tale and Fantasy section; others were taken from the Chamber of Horrors. Gone are Bob the Builder, Frankenstein's monster, Fred Flintstone, Gollum from "Lord of the Rings," a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, "Silence of the Lambs" killer Hannibal Lecter, and all four Teletubbies.

Guitars adorning the figures of U2's The Edge and Thin Lizzy frontman Phil Lynott also disappeared. Others, including Elvis and Madonna, suffered lost hair, limbs or jewelry.

The museum has been shut and searching for a home since 2005, when its run-down north Dublin base was razed to make way for a hotel. Dublin city officials vetoed one popular location, citing the wax museum's lack of cultural merit.

Museum manager Kay Murray said Monday she expects to announce a new location and reopening plans next month, although she said she did not know where the money to fix all the damage would come from.

She estimated the uninsured loss at $1.4 million and said some clothing _ particularly the authentic rebel uniforms _ was irreplaceable.

The warehouse was ransacked in mid-June. Murray said she spoke out now because the national police force, the Garda Siochana, had not arrested any suspects. She said she doubted the police theory that partying youths had been responsible, because nobody had seen kids carrying away the wax figures.

"Whoever did it was looking for uniforms, because most of our uniforms were stolen," Murray said, adding, "It's not going to stop the museum reopening. It will just delay us."

Surreal, eh? For what it's worth, Kay Murray was one of the investors' mistresses. *thumbs up*

The bell tower here sometimes plays The Final Countdown. And the Tetris song.

David Tidmarsh just said, "You can't spell fashion without fascist."

This is our super speller, guys. Take his word for it. 

Olivia just gave me a really weird smile, because she's talking to Mac Krumpak about an experiment that made lots of people starve, and how "interesting doesn't make it good, so I'll give you that."

God knows what "that" is. I guess Mac made a good point.

So guys. It's super silly that we all obviously check this blog all the time, yet none of us post. Silliest thing in the world.

So let's chat. For Halloween, what did you guys do? I was Peter Pan, and a bunch of my friends were Lost Boys and Tinkerbell and Captain Hook and Tiger Lily. Amir wore a beard and a bedsheet, and was occasionally supposed to be Jesus, Moses, or straight-up God. David T borrowed my roommate's private school uniform (yes, he totally did), and I can't for the life of me figure out what Dom was supposed to be. Maybe some kind of Peruvian? He wore a beard and not much of a shirt. Good thing it wasn't too cold. I don't remember what Tyler was, but I think his hair was gold.

We just watched William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet, and my gosh, it reminded me so much of the beginning of that Hamlet movie, the one with the hotel and the yellow sunglasses and the awful.

Also, I'm supposed to be writing a paper, and Olivia should be doing calculus, and David T should be reading the Bible. Guess what we're not doing.

Apparently on Olivia's bus yesterday, a creepy older guy with no teeth called her "Princess" and said she reminded him of his parole officer.

That's so sketchy, guys. I'm glad she didn't die.

Dom's at orchestra practice, and Amir left yesterday. We had a couple of adventures trying to find the right bus stop, interspersed with watching the food network in David T's suite. He's got a really nice suite, but mine is definitely better, despite the smallness and the brokenness of the bathrooms and lights and doors and walls and everything.

It's so social. I love it so much.

Guys, I have the biggest inferiority complex EVER about my housing situation here. But they fixed the locks on the doors, and put a new cover on the light, and worked to clean up the scorch marks on the ceiling.

I think I'm just going to post pictures on facebook at some point.

Liv says the football players in her writing seminar always make connections and comparisons to Disney movies in class. She says it's weird.

Guys, I really have to write my paper. I watched a silly Shakespeare movie instead of doing it. And I think I might fail out of college as a result of too much Mario Party and Super Smash Bros.

I miss each and every one of you so, so much.