Internationally Smokin'!

A couple days ago, a friend of mine hooked it up and got me advanced screening tickets to see The International.




At first, I had no idea what my friend was talking about. He said, "I got you tickets to see The International," and I was like, The Inter-who's that now? Is this a foreign film?

Nope. Turns out, it's a movie starring my husband Clive Owen. The trailer made it seem like it was kind of, maybe, a little bit alright. Look, I'm just going to shoot you straight here: it looked awful. Like it had a serious Bourne Identity complex. But, it has Clive Owen and it's important to support your fake celebrity spouses in whatever endeavors they take on. Otherwise they'll leave you for "real women" who don't "stalk their houses" at "all hours".*

Here is my official take on the movie: it blew. I don't really even know what it was about. Something about banks and missiles and the Israeli government. I can't be totally sure because I was distracted by this the entire time:





You guys, I don't think there was one scene where he didn't have dirt on his face. Not. One. And it was glorious. The movie takes place internationally (I totally didn't see that coming!) at all these gorgeous places. I suppose the reasoning for this was to advance the so-called story, but all I kept thinking was, "I would do Clive Owen in Milan. I would also do Clive Owen in Istanbul, and Paris, and, good god yes in New York." I'm pretty sure that's what the filmmakers would have wanted me to think.

So, to sum up, if you're interested in well-crafted and thought out storytelling, don't see this. Don't even see the movie playing in the room next to this. It's that bad.

But if you're going specifically for ogling purposes, you won't be disappointed.


*Allegedly, of course.

Studying Is For Peasants

As part of my general education courses, I have to take some silly things that don't really relate to my major. It's stupid. I end up paying hundreds of dollars to take classes that are a.) boring and b.) information that there is no possible way I am going to retain after the final exam. You need to know the chemical reaction that occurs in humans when they "fall in love"? Sorry, can't help. My Human Sexuality course ended two semesters ago and that information is long gone.

But, because it's higher education and they're just after your money (and your braaaaaaains!), they insist you take these assface courses. Something about having a well-rounded education. I don't know, I'm not a professor.

One of the classes I'm taking that at least somewhat relates to what I'm studying is Spanish. I have some major issues with Spanish. The first of which being I am Mexican. That's right, third generation, baby. I know more Spanish swear words that I know what to do with (probably why there's no room for real information in my head). I watch novelas and know my way around Sabado Gigante. But I'm not fluent.

That's right: I'm a fraud.

An impostor.

A pretender. A poser. A big, fat phony.

I have a huge arrogance complex with learning Spanish. I refuse to put my 100% effort into it because I feel like I should already know it. It's embarrassing, especially living in the southwest. Especially living in the southwest with a Mexican name. Especially living in the southwest with a Mexican name and having a family who SPEAKS PERFECT SPANISH. And the Mexicans hate you when you're one of them and don't speak Spanish. They look at you and you can see it in their eyes. They're thinking, "You're not one of us, gringo. You can only say donde esta la biblioteca and un mas cerveza, por favor in Spanish. Pinche pendeja."

It sucks. I'm willing to do anything to learn Spanish except actually dedicate the time to sit down and study it. My pride simply will not allow it. Thus, I'm dedicating the time I would normally set aside for learning Spanish to making a time machine.


Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads!

Why? Because if I can go back in time, I'd insist that my parents teach me Spanish so I could avoid this whole situation. Plus, if I made a time machine I could patent it, sell it and pay someone to learn Spanish for me. Everyone wins.

3D: The 3rd D is for "DANG! That Shit Is Coming Right At Me!"

Today is a glorious day. Why? Because tonight I am going to see this:



Yes, I realize it is a remake and remakes generally suck more than trying to drink a milkshake through a twisty straw. Normally I would be against any horror remake of any kind but this one has one magical thing that the original did not: a 3rd dimension. Yeah, you heard me. Paying $10 to see a psychopath take out some horny teens with a pick axe is ridiculous. But paying $10 to see some psychopath take out some horny teens with a pick axe IN 3-MOTHER EFFING-D suddenly becomes worth it.

If I walked up to the ticket counter and the pimply kid behind the counter said, "That'll be one human arm," I'd pull out a handsaw and start taking names (and arms).

If the ticket taker guy was like, "You can't wear any clothes in the theatre because it's a security threat," I'd take my pants off and eat my popcorn naked as the day I was born.

Point being, I don't think people realize how amazing 3D is. Sure, I could look around me and see things in 3D. The apple on my desk, for example, is in 3D and it's nothin' fancy. Apples is apples, right?

But the apple isn't doing anything. It's not killing teens with a pick axe. It's not dancing off the screen and making me feel happy or scared or excited. Mostly though, it's sure as hell not entertaining me. And really, that's all 3D movies are; a better, more intense form of entertainment. Yes, the crazed killer is scary looking, but now he's scary looking AND COMING AT MY FACE. It's essentially just more bang for your buck.

When I was a kid, I went to Disneyland and saw Captain EO. This was, of course, before Michael Jackson touched all those kids. Whoops, I mean allegedly touched all those kids. When I was a teenager, I saw Terminator, Shrek, A Bug's Life and Honey, I Shrunk The Kids in 3D. Now, as an adult, my 3D adventures continue. My thirst for movies in 3D shall never be quenched.

Really, at this point, it doesn't even matter to me if the movie is good. Obviously, I hope it is. But as long as I get to wear those awesome red and blue 3D glasses and see some good ol' fashion slashin', I'll be pleased as punch.

Think About It, Hollywood

Holy God, it's freezing in my office! I just spent the last five minutes in the bathroom washing my hands because the water that comes out of the faucet is warm. Sweet, warm bathroom water.

Seriously, this is ridiculous. I realize it's Christmas week and nobody gives a shit, but it'd be really nice if I could make it to Thursday without getting frostbite or hearing Morgan Freeman narrate March of the Penguins because it's so cold there's actual penguins in here. In fact, I propose that someone make March of the Penguins 2 and film it in my office. Real people, real setting. I even made up a poster* for your consideration, Hollywood:


"I wish I could tell you it wasn't so cold in that office and that Karina fought the good fight and the cold just let her be. I wish I could tell you that- but the office is no fairy-tale world."

Just sayin'. You could film it guerrilla style and pay myself and my co-workers to act in it. Although you'd probably have to haul in some penguins and maybe some snow. And Morgan Freeman. And probably a script. But other than that, I think it's a pretty solid idea.

*I think it would be in my best interest to learn Photoshop. Don't get me wrong-- Microsoft Paint is awesome. But to take my time wasting skills to the next level, I think I may need to learn how to alter photos and paste someones head on a body that's not theirs like the pros.

Watching Movies and Knit

It's a Saturday night. Are you doing one or more of the following:

• Knitting?
• Watching The Departed?
• Drinking a margarita flavored wine cooler because you couldn't find actual wine?
• Wearing sweat pants at 8 p.m.?
• Popping Tylenol and Ibuprofen because your back hurts?
• Convinced your hands have the arthritis?
• Wondering if 8:15 is too early to go to bed?
• Telling your dog not to judge you?

If you answered no, congratulations. You're probably a normal, outgoing twentysomething. If you answered yes to any of the above, consider one more question:

• Are you an old woman?

If you answered yes, then you and I are in the same boat. Now can someone please make me some tea? My bones are cold.

Suck it, math class

I'll forget about you, but don't you forget about me.

Let's talk about me!

Sorry for not writing in a few days. I've been busy and in all honesty, not really in a blogging mood. I haven't really been in a "I'm going to accomplish something today!" mood in a while. I blame the holidays. Christmas rolls around and it's just an excuse to check out early.

"Hey Karina, did you get that file I asked you for?"
"No. I've been busy preparing for the holidays. I completely forgot."
"I hear ya. Christmas is coming up quick this year!"

It's those seven magical words: I've been busy preparing for the holidays. It's like civilized code for "Hell naw, I ain't done shit since December 1st!" I know this cause I haven't. I've got an incurable case of the lazies. Sure, my body has gone to work, school, out with friends, hill climbing and treadmill running, but my mind is where it always is: wondering when I'm going to be able to lay around in bed all day and watch movies. Because that's mostly how I want to spend every minute of every day for the rest of my life. Is it possible to have a job where one just lays around and watches movies all day? Like my own personal Mystery Science Theater 3000 except (sadly) with less robots.

However, I will settle for being a professional Channel watcher. Someone could pay me six figures to sit around (with or without pants) and watch The National Geographic Channel, The History Channel, The Discovery Channel and The Discovery Health Channel. Hell, I'd even throw in the TLC channel for no additional charge. Really, you're the one getting the deal. I'm just the lady who's been wearing the same tank top for three days watching TV on your couch. Just sayin'.

Anyhoosie, I'll try and get around to writing more this week. Maybe about something meaningful, but no promises. I've got to prepare for the holidays, you know.

P.S. There's a new blog on the blogroll over on the right. A friend of a friend, who has requested to remain anonymous, has started a little blog about the life of a worker bee. Inside the Hive is just getting started but it's looking to be a good one. Check it out!