The Room


I’m not sure how many of you have heard of or seen this movie, but if you haven’t, YOU MUST. This movie is not just a movie, but an entire experience.

For those who have heard of it being called “the worst movie ever made”…

…you’re probably right. But it’s so bad that you have to watch it. My friend introduced it to me last Thursday, and it was quite…uh…enjoyable. I think. Every time Johnny laughed (it’s also popular to do this every time someone says “oh hi” but there are probably more laughs), we took a swig of soda from our cute little shot glasses (no alcoholic beverages were used).

After you’re done watching the movie, you can watch video, which lists just a few of the things wrong with the movie. However, there are quite a few missing from the video. For example, in one scene Johnny, played by Tommy Wiseau, is outside and picks up the newspaper on his front walkway before going into his house/apartment. When he gets inside…no newspaper. P.S., the new guy who randomly shows up is Peter’s replacement. The actor left in the middle of shooting (good for him) and they didn’t even try to make the new guy resemble him-no glasses or anything.


My Little Note-A Poem

Authors Note: For some people dealing with serious issues such as depression, suicidal thoughts, or self-harm, this poem may be “triggering”, so some caution is advised. 

I asked the rabbit on the lawn

why don’t you find shelter

instead of standing in the rain?

“To wash away the pain”.


I asked my mother on the porch

why’d you start smoking again?

“To make all the stress and pain,

all of it, fade away”.


I asked my boyfriend on the couch

why he used the screwdriver

in his own special way?

“To bleed out the pain”.


So if they wonder when I’m gone

what went through my mind,

I’ll leave a little note that will simply say

“To kill all the pain”.

A Movie You Should See

So I just finished watching this movie-a very short movie, but one of the best I have seen in a long time. It’s a musical.

It’s Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. Just for warning, there will be lots of emotion. I wish I could rant about it, but I’d rather you all watch it and enjoy it yourself.

Just think I should mention that I sobbed uncontrollably for about ten minutes after I finished watching it, and then when I told my mom why I had been crying I started sobbing again.

I would also like to blame my friend for her Pandora channel where we all first heard the songs from the movie, which motivated me to watch the movie. I had never heard of Neil Patrick Harris before, though yanno I might have but would not have been able to recognize him. But now, I love his voice and this movie just….merp.

Here, just watch it already!

Chapter 1.6 of The Stranger by Albert Camus

Yeah, duh, there’s gonna be spoilers below. This one is sort of long, but I hope you can read it through. Or don’t, I’m not trying to pressure you. The 1.6 is for Part One, Chapter 6. 

This is the moment I had been waiting for. FINALLY IT HAPPENED.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. So they-Meursault, Marie and Raymond-are on their way to Raymond’s friend Masson’s beach house, They see the Arabs that have been following Raymond around, but the Arabs are seemingly not interested in seeking revenge on this particular Sunday. They ride the bus and cross “…a small plateau that overlooks the sea and then drops steeply down to the beach” (Camus 49).

Honestly, with the following descriptions, I was having a tough time visualizing the beach.

Okay, so no lie, when it said “Masson wanted to go for a swim, but his wife and Raymond didn’t want to come” (Camus 50) I got all excited cause I thought Raymond was going to hit on his wife or coerce her into the pimp business, and then they’d come back and Masson would try to kill Raymond or the other way around.

But nah, nothing of that sort. More couple-ey swimming hoopla, and notice the lack of importance for Masson’s wife-we don’t even know her name. But, yanno, women. When the three men take their walk on the beach, they meet the Arabs walking toward them. As they’re fighting, Raymond tries to be all macho and idiotically turns from his victim to Meursault to tell him he’s “..gonna let him have it now” (Camus 54) and subsequently gets slashed with a knife.

So then the Arabs back away and leave, and Masson takes Raymond to a doctor nearby. When they get back to the house, Raymond is acting funny and says he is going down to the beach to get some air. Despite being swore at and told not to follow, Meursault accompanies him, like any friend trying to keep another friend out of trouble would.

They find the Arabs by a spring (again, I had trouble visualizing this setting), and Raymond asks if he should “…let him have it” (Camus 56). Meursault, in a way, calms the situation by telling Raymond that shooting the Arab when he doesn’t even say anything would be lousy. When Raymond wants to call him something and if he answers, to shoot, Meursault puts meaningless restrictions on the event, first saying that he can’t shoot if he doesn’t draw his knife, then informing Raymond that he should take him on man to man.

For some reason-I suppose he wants to uphold his manly honor-Raymond submits to Meursault’s restrictions and hands Meursault his gun when he asks for it. They have a little moment as Raymond hands him the gun, and simply stare at each other.

“It was then that I realized that you could either shoot or not shoot” (Camus 56). I noted it as an interesting observation, a very black and white type of comment. In context and referring to a gun, of course it’s true. However, there are minutiae that make a difference. Do you shoot at the head, the heart, the stomach, a foot, a limb? What damage do you intend to do?

Then again, in the eyes of the law, it comes down to if you shot the person or not. BUT then again, court does take into consideration premeditated hoopla, and there is a difference between murder and injuring someone, unless malicious intent is found.

Honestly, this argument is only valid if you’re efficient at shooting a gun and can actually aim.

They go back to the bungalow, but Meursault stops short of the steps, and he is….”unable to face the effort it would take to climb the wooden staircase and face the women again. But the heat was so intense that it was just as bad as standing still in the blinding stream falling from the sky. To stay or go, it amounted to the same thing” (Camus 57).

So he goes for a walk in the blistering heat. He heads toward the relief of the spring to find that Raymond’s man (singular, so there’s only one there) had come back, and he”s just sunbathing. They see each other and each grab the weapons in their pockets, though the Arab lays back down with his hand in his pocket, glancing at Meursault every now and then.

So Meursault just stands there in the scorching sun. He begins to think about how this day is a lot like the one he buried Maman in, which makes me wonder if he had any sudden pang of shock or grief or something related to Maman’s death that triggered this unreasonable event.

Anyway, he keeps saying how hot it is, and he starts to move forward for no apparent reason-“I knew that it was stupid, that I wouldn’t get the sun off me by stepping forward” (Camus 59). But he keeps advancing, and the Arab draws his knife and slashes Meursault across the forehead and over his eyes. It’s a very descriptive, well written paragraph describing the heat and sweat and blood over his eyes (which I will rewrite, despite how excessive it is).

The light shot off the steel and it was like a long flashing blade cutting at my forehead. At the same instant the sweat in my eyebrows dripped down over my eyelids all at once and covered them with a warm, thick film. My eyes were blinded behind the curtain of tears and salt. All I could feel were the cymbals of sunlight crashing on my forehead and, indistinctly, the dazzling spear flying up from my eyelashes and stabbed at my stinging eyes. That’s when everything began to reel. The sea carried up a thick, fiery breath. It seemed to me as if the sky split open from one end to the other to rain down fire. My whole being tensed and I squeezed my hand around the revolver. The trigger gave; I felt the smooth underside of the butt; and there, in that noise, sharp and deafening at the same time, is where it all started. I shook off the sweat and sun. I knew that I had shattered the harmony of the day, the exceptional silence of a beach where I’d been happy. Then I fired four more times at the motionless body where the bullets lodged without leaving a trace. And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness. (Camus 59)

…So he shot the guy because it was hot. That is what I gathered from this. This was the moment I threw down the book on the table where I had been taking my break so some of my friends could stare at me.

That bold part is my favorite part of the whole spiel. I’m still lurking on the edge of the whole juxtaposing the heat of Maman’s funeral with the heat of the day of the murder. There’s something important there. When he says that he shook off the sweat and the sun, was he shaking off grief and insensibility, finally coming out of his daze? I think so.

Then there is the big question-why did he shoot the Arab four times after he had killed him? I will do some literary research on this whole murder scene and hopefully be back with more answers!

Thanks for reading, if you’ve gotten to this point-it was pretty bulky. Part 2 is next!

Chapter 5 of The Stranger by Albert Camus

Spoilers are presumably abundant below. 

I haven’t been keeping up with doing these blogs posts about my summer reading book (because it does help me go over the chapter, and I’ll have them to refer back to later), and because Chapter 6 is such a massive, important chapter I’ve decided to do that one on its own and do chapter 5 in a separate post.

Meursault, Meursault, Meursault, what am I to do with you? His passivity kills me sometimes. His conversation with his boss, after his boss conveys he believes life in Paris would allure Meursault, is worth re-writing.

“I said yes but that really it was all the same to me. Then he asked me if I wasn’t interested in a change of life. I said that people never change their lives, that in any case one life was as good as another and that I wasn’t dissatisfied with mine here at all” (Camus 41).

I disagree that people never change their lives; however, it demonstrates existentialism, that people do not really control their lives. As far as one life being as good as another, that is very debatable, and I’m not quite sure what to think of that statement yet.

“…I couldn’t see any reason to change my life. Looking back on it, I wasn’t unhappy. When I was a student, I had lots of ambitions like that. But when I had to give up my studies I learned very quickly that none of it really mattered” (Camus 41).

I believe the key phrase here is when he says “I wasn’t unhappy”, not “I was happy”. Similar to his passive nature, Meursault displays a contentment and “okay” attitude toward life. It might not be great or even good, but it’s not bad. The scary thing is that this sounds exactly like my one friend, and this type of attitude makes me sad.

He and Meursault are quite alike. He is very non-feeling about a lot of things. I hold happiness in the highest esteem, greater than achieving any goals of greatness, and I’m always afraid he’ll never be truly happy. I know most people aren’t truly happy, but they at least have something that makes them joyful on a regular basis-family parties, friends, hobbies, vacations, etc-and he doesn’t seem to have a lot of those. Well, that might be a lie, he does thoroughly enjoy quite a few activities. It’s just that he’s so I-don’t-care-about-myself and I-don’t-want-to-be-a-burden that I feel he’ll never pursue what he loves, which is what I think life is all about.

I’ve found lots of people have lost ambitions and dreams from their youth, and though this also makes me quite depressed, I understand it’s a part of life. Notwithstanding this, many individuals attempt to strive for the best in what they have, and my friend and Meursault are also alike in the way that they do not endeavor in this way.

Marie makes me laugh. But now I’m wondering if I’m like her in a way…

AH scary thought. No I don’t think I’d marry someone who flat out said he probably doesn’t love me. I don’t mind passivity, because I can deal with it and want to be there for my friend, but in matters of the heart, passivity is a no-no. And I don’t think my friend is like that.

Oh yes, so marriage isn’t a very big deal apparently. Didn’t these two just start hanging out?

And uh, what’s with the little old lady and Meursault following her? Stalker much? Just like, you seem someone peculiar, and your first thought is to follow them around for a bit?

More of Salamano and his sad dog story. I was squeaking throughout Meursaults life story.

Another thing that makes me sad is when people marry people and then realize they don’t really love them and end up not happy. I want so desperately to avoid this. As they say in Rent, “I’d be happy to die for a taste of what Angel had-someone to live for, unafraid to say I love you” (Larson). Yanno, hopefully death can be avoided, but I really don’t want to end up in one of those marriages.

I really wonder if Meursault truly feels guilt for having to put Maman in a home. I mean, like he states, it’s the reasonable and proper thing to do, and I completely understand that. But to me it sounds like a situation similar to having to put your dog down-you know it’s what you have to do, but you really don’t want to do it and feel sad about it. I mean, considering his personality, I doubt he does, but I like to ponder.

And now, to end the chapter with one of the saddest quotes ever,

“He [Salamano] gave a little smile, and before he left he said, ‘I hope the dogs don’t bark tonight. I always think it’s mine'” (Camus 46).

Insert doggy sadness here. Any thoughts about the book or any of the quotes or whatever is always welcomed.

In a Bad Place

This weekend, from about Friday around 4pm until yesterday evening, I was in a pretty bad state of mind, as you can see by this poem I wrote Friday night.

Help me


Somebody please help me

I don’t know where to go from here

There’s darkness clouding my mind

And I’m drowning in the fear


But no one even turns their head

And I’m left alone once again


But I’m back now. Saturday I went to Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, Maryland with my family because they had an information session/campus tour for prospective students. This is probably my number 1 college right now-like seriously, walking around felt like I could actually belong there. The issue, of course, is getting in, because it’s a top notch school.

The sucky thing is, from what I’ve gathered, they only look at the Critical Reading and Math sections of SAT, which I got 650’s on for a total of 1300/1600 (which is eh in my opinion, considering the quality of the school). I got a 760 on my writing portion. Yeah, fantastic. I have some options for making it work though, and of course SAT scores aren’t the only thing. I have really good grades from junior year (and all years I suppose) so I’m hoping for the best.

Plus it’s the number 1 research university in the nation, and receives the most funding from the federal government to support this, which means that I’ll have opportunities to pursue my own interests inside biology in addition to classwork. The campus is the perfect size, Baltimore is a phenomenal city, and it also has German, which I want to minor in.

It was my first college visit, and I really just fell in love.

The New Whose Line Is It Anyway?

So of course with my obsession with Whose Line Is It Anyway? I watched the two new episodes that came on, heading into them with low expectations, because you can never beat the originals (or Drew Carey).

Though I did miss Drew (and would love him to be a special guest on the show), the new lady (I feel bad because I don’t know her name) wasn’t too bad. She didn’t interact as much with the performers, but that was alright. However, there were a few things about the show I didn’t like.

First, they didn’t really use the points gimmick anymore. I think the new lady only gave out points once or twice between both shows. There is the slightest chance I could not have been paying enough attention, but because my sister confirmed this with me so I hope I’m correct. That’s part of the hilarity of it-giving out points that don’t matter is essential to the show.

Secondly, the winners didn’t get to do their own skit, they only read the credits. This both angered and saddened me, because I liked it the other way.

Third, they did not take any members from the audience to do skits with them. Now, I’m thinking (and hoping) that because it was the premiere they were using celebrities instead of audience members, which I of course don’t mind.

Last, and I don’t know if anyone else shares this sentiment, but I felt like the suggestions of scenes and the performers themselves were attempting to be more racy and sexual than before, which I didn’t particularly like.

Now, some of the things I loved about it.

Colin Mochrie. Ryan Stiles. Wayne Brady. Except, like everyone else, the fact that Colin is no longer the only bald man is sort of sad but very ironic and sort of hilarious in itself.

Though they did include some new skits, which is really good, they also reused some of the old ones, which was excellent. I was really hoping they would use a mix of old and new, and I was not disappointed.

And did anyone else see Laura Hall? SHE’S BACK. Everyone loves Laura Hall, and I squealed when I saw her.

Overall, I think I will continue to watch the new Whose Line Is It Anyway?, because I can’t express how excited I am that it’s on again, despite my complaints.