My "you might be a librarian if" list

You might be a public librarian if:

All the copies of a book are checked out, and you have to stop yourself from running home and grabbing your personal copy to give to the nice disappointed patron.

Your version of heroin is hearing that someone loved a book you recommended.

You organize the books in your home library for fun.

You make less with your master's degree than many people do with their high-school degree.

You earned said masters degree so that you could spend your days showing people how to use their Yahoo email account. (First step, open a Gmail account instead. Yahoo sucks bricks.)

You laugh until you cry when you hear the phrase "librarian shortage." Then you go twist a few of the pins you keep in your ALA voodoo doll.

You secretly bristle when you hear the term "librarian" applied to just anyone who works in a library, up to and including janitorial staff. You realize this is an elitist behavior, but you just don't care.

Patrons mistake you for a tax adviser. Or financial adviser. Or lawyer. Or doctor. Or secretary. Or trash-thrower-awayer. All are flattering except for those last two. They are not so much.

Parents mistake you for a babysitter.

You dream about orchestrating a fake kidnapping in the children's section to teach people A Very Important Lesson but know that parents would probably not even notice anything was happening.

You have become adept at recognizing various psychiatric disorders.

You get to learn way, way too much about people's personal lives--usually by way of the bellowing cell phone conversations they're having right in front of you.

You get so used to reminding people about appropriate behavior that you have to stop yourself from doing it when you're off-duty. And maybe sometimes you don't stop yourself, and then your husband is embarrassed to be with you.

You develop an eye twitch 5 minutes before the junior high gets out--whether or not you can see the clock. Your body just knows.

You are happy when you find sex books hidden in random parts of the library, because it means a teenager is learning about sex from an actual book rather than from their idiot friends.

You sometimes get to make wallets and flowers out of duct-tape with a bunch of teenagers and call it work.

You got to read the last Harry Potter before anybody else.

You accost strangers in public about the books they are reading.

You cannot possibly narrow it down to one favorite book.

Are there any I'm forgetting?

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You might be a librarian if . . .

Goddessdivine had a hysterical "you might be a teacher if" list up on her blog, so I looked around online to see if there were any "you might be a librarian if" lists. This list was written by Danielle Dreger-Babbitt at Examiner.com. I decided to have a look and see if I feel it's accurate.

You might be a librarian if:

You compulsively reshelve items and straighten shelves when browsing at Barnes and Noble
(I actually do this at other libraries. When visiting Barnes & Noble or Borders, I have to throw all notions of organization, rightness, or sanity out the window before I even walk in. Otherwise I end up in a corner, rocking and drooling between shelves that make no earthly sense.)

You alphabetize your spice rack (and everything else)
(Ooooh, I know what I'm doing this weekend!)

You own more cardigans than shoes
(Not even true. Although I do love me a good cardi.)

You own cats named "Ernest, "Kerouac," or "Flannery."
(Excuse me, cats? Not if I don't want my breath sucked out while I sleep. I am, however, planning to give all my dogs, children, chickens, and baby lambs names from literature.)

You have a secret desire to be on a bookcart drill team
(Wow. Um, now I do.)

You know the Dewey Decimal System by heart
(No, no I don't. And it's really embarassing that I don't. I feel so out of it when I look at librarian t-shirts at Cafepress.)

Nancy Pearl is your idol and you own her action figure
(This was actually Daltongirl's going-away present as I left to go get my MLS)

You go on vacation and visit other libraries
(Especially if it's in Hawaii, and if I think I could maybe kill and hide one of the existing employees and then take their spot)

You don't have a Netflix account and borrow all of your music and movies from the library instead
(Well, yeah. You don't have to be a librarian to know that free = better.)

Your home library has just as many books as a small public library
(Not anymore. I now think of my public library as an extension of my home library. In most cases I don't need to own the book because I know they do. Different rules apply, however, to bathroom reading.)

You were totally blogging and social networking before 2003
(Sorry, wasn't that cool. But then, I wasn't a librarian then, either.)

You read banned books. (And so. should. everyone.)

This has me thinking about what I would put on my list. I think it will deserve its own blog post. Stay tuned . . .

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Oh, I memorialed

I hope y'all's Memorial Days were good. Last Friday I was at Albertsons and noticed a veritable sea of potted & wrapped chrysanthemums in front of the store. The volume was surprising, as was the part where people were snatching them up like nobody's business. I thought, "Huh. Who even knew that mums were so popular here? I always thought they were kind of lame."

Then about 6 hours later I remembered about Memorial Day. And how some people actually live near the grave sites of deceased loved ones and so would be putting flowers on said graves in commemoration of the day. (Note: May wish to consider selling potted mums at roadside stand near cemetery as money-making venture next MD.) The purpose of the flowers didn't automatically occur to me because I think the last time I was in proximity with an ancestor's grave I was about 5 years old. I think if I did live near my family plots (all located in Virginia and North Carolina) I would probably be tempted to whisper shocking things while placing the flowers. "I belong to the Mormon cult!" "We have a black President!" "This one time I made biscuits & gravy and I completely screwed it up and people thought it was French!" Stuff like that. Note: I would not do this to my grandparents, but instead to the relatives I never actually knew. Nanny and Grandaddy would only get sweet words.

My day was lovely, though. I kissed GH goodbye as he got home from work and got in to bed (no holidays for him) and then drove down to Provo to hang out with the Precii, their parents, and coolboy. We drove up South Fork Canyon and had a picnic lunch and did a little stroll and enjoyed the gorgeous, gorgeous weather. A group of not-at-all-socially-awkward-seeming sword-fighters were there, practicing, and little Ethan could not even get over the fact that he was pretty much watching a pirate battle. His fork was in his hand and he kept swinging it around to mimic their movements.

I brought the kiddies a completely kick-trash library puppet stage that had been destined for the thrift store. I do what I can to solidify my favorite auntie status. We got to watch several theatricals. Savannah's were puppet based, mostly featuring Minnie Mouse, whereas Ethan's were about matchbox cars and airplanes. He was a courteous narrator who would let you know who was about to come onstage so as to alleviate any potential viewer anxiety. "Now it's going to be Lighting McQueen!" "Now it's going to be a stealth bomber!" "Now it's going to be Chick! Chick's naughty . . . "

Got home in time for a fried chicken & limeade dinner in the park with GH. So it was pretty much perfect.

(photo by the famous and talented Ed McCulloch on his iPhone--because I like to have famous people take pictures of my niece & nephew for me)

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Happy Memorial Day

May your grilling, traveling, visiting, swimming, eating, remembering, and all other activities today be happy and safe ones.

Also, here's a shout-out to my dad (retired Air Force) and my brother (active duty Army). I love you guys!



(image from Howlin Mad Detachment - Marine Corps League blog)

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Sundays...

For the past consecutive Sundays, I have started to notice a thing that has been contributing to my temperament that in turn contributed to my increasing neglect of this cyber repository.

You see, the fact that I reside in such a densely populated place like Singapore where it's impossible not to have people talking to you, demanding things from you, requesting you to do things even for the span of a few hours, makes living a chore for a person like me. I used to treat Sundays as my sanctuary, the full 24 hours entirely to myself. To heal. To re-charge. To regain equilibrium. To find inspiration. To find peace. This is getting increasingly impossible now, I have no idea why... I simply loathe the feeling of a half-rested mood on Sundays nowadays, where my mind and emotional state are troubled and bothered by the incoherent noises of the people around me, by the swarms of people that has been so terrifying swelling up here in Singapore in the recent years. I feel like a half-charged battery on the recent Sundays, sluggish, highly volatile, unfulfilled. In a nutshell, not ready to expend my energies once more on the upcoming Monday. Also, in a nutshell, do not disturb my Sundays. Thank you.

Somehow, I dislike my introversion tendency for this reason, although I take a hell lot more pride in my persona. I realised it takes alot of time alone for me to feel well-equipped again, which led me to dwell on the fact that I would most likely feel like a cadaver by the time I actually start to work full-time/leaving very minimal time to onself for the exchange for a terrible invention called money. I wonder how fellow introverts survive in the working world... Unnerved, I am, very. I actually burrowed a book from the library called "Party of One: The Loner's Manifesto" some days ago, because I need reassurance that what I am feeling is normal and I'm not going insane. Sigh...

On brighter topics, I have acquired a new CD, entitled Drudkh's Blood in our Wells (Кров у Наших Криницях). One of the more worthy purchases of mine in the recent months. When I heard it online, I was immediately blown away with immense surprise as my ears have grown so disenchanted with the lacklustre tunes of many bands out there and my heart grown cold with the lack of a new flame. But Drudkh. This Ukrainian band impressed me so much on the debut listen that I immediately texted my favourite Metal CD store and placed an order for this album. Listening to it makes me feel like a young (not that I am old, just a comparsion of era, lol) passionate, hungry listener sitting entrapped in the glorious cacophonies once again, like a walk in a new forest that will surprise you with beautiful sights at every turn and crevice, or like trying a new food, which you grew to love so quickly.

It's simply amazing.

I also acquired the ticket to a local Metal music concert in which more than 5 bands would perform in, including of Rudra, a band which I adore with great intensity ever since I witnessed them desecrate the Esplanade outdoor stage some 3 years back. I couldn't wait to witness their desecration once more. The thought of listening to "The Pathless Path to the Unknowable Knowable" live brings me both adrenaline and edorphines. Also performing is the first (and I hope not the last!) black metal-orientated band perform at Baybeats - Meza Virs. I have witnessed their performances at the Baybeats Auditions and I know they are toning it down at the Auditions. Therefore, I believe they will make a much bigger and forceful impact at this particular concert.

Let's not talk about a dreadful topic like my current block of hospital attachment, shall we? =)

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Buzz buzz

The good news is I'm not working today. The bad news is I am working tomorrow. Special. So today I'm left to my own devices and I think it will be a "get the work done" day.

I have actually been making great(ish) strides at decluttering the apartment and keeping it tidy. I'm trying to tackle one thing at a time, lest I fall into my usual habit. (Usual habit = get twelve projects started, lose interest in all of them, leave projects lying around on floor, trip on project at some point and kill self.)

Maybe if I report my progress here it will make me feel a bit more accountable. For instance, am dying to show you pictures of my gorgeous balcony garden which has been in place for nearly a week now and has not. even. died!!! But first I need to finish potting the last few things and get the camera batteries charged. And maybe get some baby ducklings up here for the cuteness factor.

Am also v. excited about the fabric I bought to cover my rocker/glider cushions. Have not actually covered said cushions yet, but instead have the fabric draped over them in an "I'll get to it and maybe you won't even notice the difference until then or maybe ever" sort of way. Possibly in my head I'm waiting for Cicada to just turn up at my house and cover them in exchange for lunch or pie. (It could even be both!)

Went through the desk drawers, hauled everything out, and reorganized in an o-so-pleasing manner. Encouraged by all the created space, I would like to do this in the kitchen cupboards and under the bathroom sink, which by now have probably morphed into portals which lead to another dimension where tiny, evil, breath-sucking trolls live. Except right now I'm sort of in a mood where I would almost rather throw something away than find a place for it. Don't know if that's a bad frame of mind to be doing decluttering in or if it's actually a really, really, really good one.

Also, I have absolutely no plans for Memorial Day. None. I have the day off but GH doesn't, so he'll go to work Sunday night and spend all of Monday sleeping. Can anyone please give me some ideas? (Update: My sister Jenny just reminded me that I am quite possibly brain damaged because she'll be back in town by then and that we're actually spending Monday together. Yay!)

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Yeah, it's pretty much a habit now

Today I completed my second day in a row of working out at my community rec center. Am sure I will be a hardbody in no time.

And if I were at all feeling unmotivated about gyming it up today, the sight of my tummy pooching out over the waistband of my skirt and the sensation of my ab fat jiggling around independent of my body as I walked got all the motivated feelings right back where they belonged.

I shall now reward myself for such hard work by walking over and observing the 20 ducklings that live in the complex and possibly trying to smuggle a couple of them back into the apartment so that I may hold them to my face and coo at them.

Speaking of ducklings, everyone needs to watch this video while squealing loudly enough to break glass. It is required.

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Shoulda been a 900 number

(Note: Do they even make 900 numbers any more? I don't even know. What I do know from late-night commercials is that there are all these attractive people holed up in their homes alone in tiny shorts, ready to connect with other holed-up-attractive singles through the telephone. Which, yeah, that seems about right.)

I had a steamy, steamy conversation on the phone today with a stranger. He didn't know me; I didn't know him. We breathed dirty, dirrty words at each other. Words like "money market," "emergency fund," "Roth IRA," and "whole life insurance." And oh, it was good. I waited to call until GH was in the next room sleeping, so he wouldn't notice my heaving bosom and grow suspicious.

This all happened when I called USAA (translation, the best club in the world ever to belong to, right up there with Costco) and asked to speak with a financial advisor. I follow several budgeting/frugality/money-management blogs, (all sexy) but realized that right now I need a bit of individualized advice. Thanks to my crazymad budgeting skillz and the part where we are currently a DINK family (each of us almost makes one income, so I'm counting it) there are choices to make. Choices like:

Now that we're saving a bit of money, where's the best place to keep it?

Should I try to pay my student loan off sooner, even if it means saving less?

How much should we be saving for retirement? And is it better to put it in a Roth or a 401K or both?

Will we ever in life be able to afford a house? (Answer: probably not)

What happens if we go down to one-income once I start having behbehs? (He didn't address this one so much, more went off about the need for term life insurance and how freaking expensive diapers are. This part was less sexy.)

It was really nice though to have somebody to talk it out with and to give good advice and help me get my priorities right. GH is wonderful and very patient with my budgeting addiction, but he really does not get excited about the money discussions the way I do. Unless, say, I'm beginning a discussion that in any way sounds like, "Hey, what if we save money by cutting out [cable/Tivo/your still-beating heart from your chest]?" Then you'll see excited.

So. I came away with a renewed determination & purpose. My financial priorities used to look something like this:

1. Do not spend any money ever.
2. Live as though you're only on one income. (Yeah . . . not exactly happening. And for me, that is saying something, people.)
3. Get GH accustomed to the whole "budgeting" thing.
4. Build a 6-8 month emergency fund for when one or both of our employers lays us off.

Have accepted that #1 and #2 are unrealistic. Have pretty well accomplished #3 & #4. Now I'm moving on to:

1. Start funding an IRA
2. Get our savings into accounts where they can earn more interest
3. Get my student loan out of the picture asap because even though it's not "bad" debt like the credit card kind, it still nags at me and I'd like it to be gone
4. Go to Hawaii--because I think there should always be a "go to Hawaii" on pretty much any of my goal lists.

So yay for financial goals! Let's hear yours!

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It's embarassing how bad my memory is

Got this letter at my work email address and it caused me no end of enjoyment. Figured it would be wrong not to share. My responses are in parenthesis.

Hi [Nemesis]
How are you doing today? (I am doing quite well, thank you.) I went on vacation trip to London and attend a program to support people living with HIV / AIDS, I am very sorry i did not tell you about it until now. (Um, you SHOULD be sorry. I mean, I would pass on the HIV/AIDS conference because so many of the library teens have already cause me to spend hours weeping over the fate of humanity, but rubbing your London trip in my face, I must say, is a bit ho-baggish of you.)

I really need your help because I am stranded in London, (oh dear!) you will not believe I forgot my bag in the taxi where my money, passport, documents and other valuable things were kept on my way back to the hotel I was staying. (You're right, I will not believe it.) I'm staying in a 5 star hotel, (Wow, when millions of people are dying from AIDS? Way to win my sympathy there.) so I too have a hotel bill of $ 1500 and you want to pay the bill. (Really? I do?) I tried to explain my situation, but threaten to bring the case to the police and it is not necessary at this time. (I can't begin to imagine why you wouldn't want to involve the police.) Please, I want to help with the sum of $ 2500 to settle my outstanding invoices from hotels, food and transport myself to myself (Transporting yourself to yourself? That's a bit sci-fi, I must say.) at the Embassy to retrieve a temporary travel home. I am sending you this email from the city Library (mmmm . . . libraries) and I will be there for a few hours while waiting for your e-mail,

I will really appreciate if I can send the money ASAP, I promise money back as soon as I return home.I will appreciate whatever you can afford to help me with,Kindly let me know if you can be of help? so that i can send you the details.Your reply will be greatly appreciated.

Merrilee

Now, this letter is a new sort of thing for me. The writer is operating not under the "hello, kind stranger, I heard you might be able to help me" mode but instead upon the basis that we are in fact friends and know each other well enough to be keeping each other up on our travel plans. So if her name does not sound familiar to me, maybe she/he is hoping that I'll be like, "Well, she certainly seems to know me. I must have forgotten about her! Gosh, I feel really bad about that. I'd better send her the money to assuage my guilt over having completely forgotten our relationship."

Am half-tempted to write and say, "Oh my gosh, that sounds terrible. Remember that one time when we went clubbing together in Ibiza and I left my purse in the bathroom by accident? This is totally like that! Except now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that you already owe me money from the time when we were at Costco with my membership card and they would only take American Express so I put that outdoor grill on my American Express and you said you would pay me back. So you go ahead and wire that money into my account and then we'll talk. Stay sweet and have a great summer!"

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Making GH love me a little less, right here

I was going to blog about how happy I am that this week is the finale week for so many television shows. When expressing this to GH, however, he became angry and informed me that I was no longer invited to the Lost finale party we are attending at Rice.and.Mr.Pudding's home in Ogden this evening.

Well, fudge.

(Except I quite like the Rice Puddings, so will not let GH's bad attitude deprive me of their company.)

Tried to explain to him that with that big chunk of time soon-to-be cleared out of our (his) schedule, there are so many other things we can do together. He can use the Time Formerly Known as 24/ House/ Prison Break/ Supernatural/ Smallville/ Chuck/ Fringe/ Dollhouse/ Whatever Else is On Time to do things like search for a new job and build up his portolio and turn me on by vacuuming and counter-top-cleaning.

And then together we can use the Lost/HIMYM/The Office/30 Rock Time to go to the gym and lose the "I Got Married and So Now Fat Just Flies Out of the Ether and Sticks to Me and That Is the Only Possible Explanation" weight. This just irritated GH even more, because this to him is called "trading good things like TV in for crappy things like exercise." He is, of course, correct in stating that exercise is crap. I, however, maintain that cardiovascular health, a healthy Body Mass Index, more energy, and the wickedawesome leg muscles that come to me in a ridiculously short amount of time upon beginning a workout are the opposite of crap.

(Please don't ask about my abs though. I will possibly never have those, ever, in life, or anything approaching them. It is a tragedy.)

So anyway. Yay for finale season!

UPDATE: For those who have been following shows this year, what are you going to do with your new free time? (Besides cry and go into withdrawals at the same support facility as GH, of course.)

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Conversations that couples probably did not have 50 years ago

Remember how we discussed the part where I tend to think way too much about the too-far-ahead future? And how GH usually humors me? Yeah, I've changed my mind about the humoring part.

Yesterday he decided to be clever and start doing an impression of me. (Note: in his impressions, I sound like I belong on Teen Girl Squad. It is important to know this so that you have a clear mental image.)



So. We have GH, mocking me in Teen Girl Squad voice. (And no, we were not even talking about babies, so don't ask me where this came from.)

GH: And what if one day we have a baby that is half-girl/half-BOY? What then? And we have to just decide right then what it's going to be! And what if we pick the wrong thing and the kid resents us for it. But we have to decide! We HAVE to decide!!!

Me: You think we're going to have a hermaphrodite kid?

GH: No, but it's something YOU probably worry about.

Me: Actually, that one hadn't occurred to me. Okay, I guess we'd have to pray and fast about whether it's actually a boy or a girl and tell the doctor which---

GH: Oh. We're definitely going to have them make it a girl.

Me: How come?

GH: We just are. Because it would look weird later if they started as a boy and then changed over to be a girl.

Me: Weirder than a girl who switched later to be a guy? Like that "guy" on Oprah who had the baby?

GH: What guy on Oprah? I have no idea what you're talking about.

Me: You know, the one who was born a girl but had a sex change but kept his reproductive organs so he could give birth later---

GH: ---Okay see now I'm uncomfortable, I don't want to talk about this any more. I only brought this up to make fun of you and you're taking it seriously and turning it into an actual discussion. This is not okay.

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Nerd vs Geek vs Dork

In the last post I maintained that my husband is, in fact, a nerd. Others took exception, pointing out that his qualities (and his collection of Sci-Fi t-shirts) most likely make him a candidate for the status of geek, instead.

So I decided to do a bit of research on how these different terms work, and it turns out tehy're all over the place. Here's one stab at it, though.

According to this wikihow article and others, a Nerd = a bright or even genius-level individual with intense and advanced knowledge, interest, and skills in one field (usually academic), likely to the exclusion of other interests, associations, or social skills.

Geek: Intense interest (but not necessarily accompanying skills) in obscure fields that are not necessarily academic. So, what the geeks would call, "a nerd with social skills" or what the nerds would call "a nerd without the smarts."

Except there are other people who switch those definitions completely around. And whether or not any of these words are considered compliments or insults most definitely depends on what camp you belong to (or believe you belong to) So who even knows what to believe or think or feel or cling to in this tenuous world?

At Going the Wrong Way, the writer has this to say about Dorks:

"Dorks are the type of people who will do silly things. . . . If the dork is aware that they are a dork, then it’s funny. If they’re not aware, then it’s painful to watch such a socially uncomfortable person try to get by."

When I told GH I was writing about this, he asked how to tell if you're a Goober (other than, say, having the name of Nemesis). According to the Urban Dictionary definition, a "goober" is a "kindhearted, rather oblivious goofball." So there, it's totally a good thing to be called. GH claims he had no idea I possessed such goober traits when we met. He just thought I was uptight all the time. Lucky, lucky him!

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In which I win "Best Wife Ever" award

I married a nerd. A handsome, smart, funny nerd, but a nerd nonetheless. I am not sorry about this in any way. It does, however, means that sometimes adventures like the following are bound to happen.

GH has been beyond excited about J.J. Abram's upcoming Star Trek film. Excited like he has been calling me over to the computer for the past 5 months to watch every single teaser trailer that has come out. And the 2nd-angriest I've ever seen him was when I behaved in a dismissive manner toward one of the trailers. I believe the words "I don't love you anymore!" possibly came out, which is when we got to have the conversation called "Yeah . . . we do not actually use those words to each other, get it?"

(1st-angriest I've ever seen him = the time I told him I couldn't see what was so bad about our slightly fuzzy TV screen picture, and couldn't we just live with the fuzz. You would think I'd just announced that there was no difference between Star Wars and Star Trek. And also that I was having an affair. With someone who also did not know the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek. And also Lost sucks. He couldn't even stand still, he was so infuriated that I could just sit there being so incredibly wrong.)

So there's your backstory. As soon as was humanly possible, GH bought tickets to see the new Star Trek this coming Friday (opening weekend) on an IMAX screen. We're going with a bunch of friends, so it should be a good time. But then GH ended up with a free pass to go to an advance screening of the film at 10:00am May 2nd. There was no question that he would be using this free pass, even if he already did have a ticket. I indicated that he was welcome to take one of his other friends as his guest and I would just content myself with seeing the movie next weekend (you know, because I'm a giver). But the friends fell through, so I said I would go with him.

For the first time in our married life (and possibly ever in GH's), we both got up at 7:00 on a Saturday morning and drove downtown to pick up our tickets. GH had been told that the tickets would be available at 8:00am, and I'd found us a breakfast place to try before the movie, which I was very excited about. Turns out that was wrong, and they weren't being handed out til 9:00am. Our breakfast plans now shot, GH very manfully headed out in the rain to hunt/gather us some food. I know I have moral objections to McDonalds and everything, but my word those hash brown bars must be laced with crack. He even went back to get me ketchup. The bonus of being there so early was that we were near the frontish of the line. One woman had been there since 6:40. Because she was insane.

Then we hung out in the theatre with all the other fans and had fun chatting and eavesdropping. I only saw one guy wearing a Captain Kirk shirt. Trenchcoat Guy, just head of us with his wife and sons, was very anxious about the seating and whether he would be able to get the seat he wanted. We also heard him boast that he named all of his sons after X-men characters (Scott, Logan, etc) with his wife being none the wiser. (I really like to think that I would be able to catch GH out at this and that my nerd-dar might ping at names like like Locke, Wash, Faith, Buffy, Marty McFly, Egon, etc.)

Then Trenchcoat Guy started talking about the movie Wolverine, and about the backstory that isn't included in the movie. I listened for a bit and noticed GH shaking his head. "What that guy is saying is completely wrong. He's a nerd and what he's saying is wrong."

GH explained, "There is nothing worse than a nerd who has his facts wrong. I mean, he's a nerd. He should know. If anyone should know, he should. It's just embarrassing."

Me: "Really. Nothing worse."

GH: "Nope."

Me: "Worse than Nazis, even."

GH: "Well, they're probably about equal. Because there were probably some Nazis who were all gung-ho but didn't really have their facts straight either."

So there you have it.

Also? The movie was really good. Will admit to being just a tiny bit excited to see what it's going to look like on the IMAX screen on Friday.

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