I just started a community called "lowtohighbrow" (this is the handle used in the url).  Basically it's an opportunity for folks to get together and discuss mainstream entertainment in a more intellectual capacity.  My belief is that if you are a person who enjoys critical thinking, then you want to apply that kind of thinking to everything you see and read, even the guilty pleasures you sometimes feel ashamed to admit you see and read.

Here's a chance to come out of the closet and discuss what others believe is low brow culture and create opportunities for conversation.


Please join!!!

www.livejournal.com/community/lowtohighbrow

The obsessive personality needs a new fix.

What new fandom that I haven't exhausted will allow me some escapism from serious family mental illness, final papers and scholarship pressure, and unloading trucks full of Christmas merchandise?

Any and all suggestions however geeky are very welcome at this point.

I hate that CARNIVALE had only 2 seasons. I finished that one too quickly.
 

Daniel Day Lewis....you frighten me.



What the hell WAS THAT?

I'm fretting about the fact that in two days I will be expected to be in two places at once, and no matter how you swing it, someone's gonna be pissed.  

Today was rather lackluster in the office. I have serious problems with cabin fever when it rains continuously in SF and then I work in an office with no windows.  Very crazy making.

Starting to think about life beyond the internship.  Sigh.

Must get out more and appreciate what I have. Enough time spent on computer and watching DVDs. I must venture forth.  I love walking anyway. There's just that little problem with the RAIN.

Wondering if my life will ever really change, even if I continue to move or change jobs. Will I always be flying solo emotionally? Will I find a network of people with whom I can REALLY explore deeper issues?  

Had some good conversations, though, today. I feel like there is some hope yet.

Want something to be a light at the end of the tunnel. I want to know something's out there when I finish this year. This year has been great for me. What will I see ahead when the final month rolls around? Just a blank calendar? That kinda creeps me out.

I continue to worry about health care and retirement, and so I find myself lurking around the political climate a little more than usual. I hope people can make the things happen that they promise. I would feel so proud to be here and so privileged to experience it.

The world does not owe me its oyster. I must find it myself. But hey, a few fishermen pointing the way never hurts.

I love November.

Why?

Because tech dinner in the courtyard rocks.

Because some high school students came to work today and, dare I say it, made my life EASIER.

Because tonight JOSS WHEDON, once again, is the director of THE OFFICE.  (and he has a new show coming soon)

Because it's nice and chilly outside.

Because we're getting together tonight to have a play reading of one of my roommate's plays. I get to play the dad.

November kicks ass.

What is it that Dory the A.D.D. fish says in that Disney film? 

"Just keep swimming...Just keep swimming....."

Here we gooooooooooo------SPLASH!!!

I hate the LAST conversation you have on the phone with your favorite student.

I hate finishing the LAST book in a series of stories that has made your entire life magical.

I hate seeing one of my pets for the LAST time.

I hate having a LAST lunch with a friend. Make that several friends. Make that an endless calendar of final "lunches" that somehow encapsulate what someone has meant to me.....over food, no less.

I hate when my favorite characters say their LAST words, and I'm sick enough in the head to think of them as real people.

I hate the LAST day of the writing project, where the director asks us to write goodbyes for our final creative writing prompt.

I hate knowing that this is one of the LAST days I will have the privacy to write such spineless, cowardly entries on my journal without total chaos erupting all around me.

I hate that I am not brave, that I am NOT a saint, that I can't be "the girl who triumphed" or some great epithet like that.

I want to curl up in a ball and cry for hours. I hate that most of all.