Are there immunisations for that?

A real interaction between my father and me while something about Justin Beiber was on the news.
The News: *plays snippet of Beiber 'song'*
Dad: *enters room* Oh god, who's this latest homogonised disney pop princess?
Me: Justin Beiber.
Dad: Justin? Isn't that a boys' name?
Me: You'd think that, wouldn't you.

Now, apart from the fact that Beiber Fever sounds like a deadly disease and that there's an entire website dedicated to lesbians who, through no fault of their own, look like him and the fact that I'm more scared of his fangirls than I am of Twilighters, WHAT BRIGHT SPARK COMPARED HIM TO THE BEATLES?!
[Yes, that was worth the pseudo-interrobang. I'm just that outraged.]
Nobody, and I mean NOBODY makes that kind of comparison and gets away with it. When you insult Izzie's favourite band, three of the most influential composers of the 20th Century (and Ringo Starr), the reason you can misspell "beetle" and get away with it, there will be hell to pay.
Hell hath no fury like Izzie when you insult The Beatles.

Also, just to say, Ringo Starr wrote Octopus's Garden, so think about that. He did do something apart from play the drums and have a silly accent.

Also also, who hasn't seen my website yet? http://theadventuresofizzie.com/

Target sighted/crazy random happenstance.

Subject: Really hot guy

Sighting 1
Location: JB Hi-Fi, comedy DVD section
Subject was dressed in a blue suit and brown trenchcoat. Upon closer inspection, Izzie noticed that he was cosplaying as the tenth Doctor (only exemplified further by his David Tennant-esque hair and sideburns).

Sighting 2
Location: Newsagent
Subject was buying a phone card and mars bar and engaged in conversation with cashier, who he seemed to know, discussing his uni course, how he was making more money with shows he was in than when he had a part-time job last year. Leads to conclusions that Subject is an actor/performer of other sort/berlesque dancer.

Sighting 3
Walking along Queen Street, crossing at busy intersection. Subject was listening to music and holding a plastic bag with his brown trenchcoat neatly folded inside. Eye contact was made, smiles were exchanged. Mental note was made to blog about occurrance.


And now: a crazy random happenstance.
If, today, I hadn't been walking through that particular arcade at that particular time (smiling at Subject), after pausing briefly to give change to that particular busker, which in itself was after waiting for the crossing sign to change, instead of simply crossing when the traffic stopped, then I wouldn't have intercepted my school drama teacher and an old friend, who had moved to Melbourne, as they stepped out of Tiffany and Co. Now, what they were doing in Tiffany and Co, I'm not sure. Why Sam was doing in Brisbane after having moved to Melbourne, I can only speculate. But holy crap, what a crazy random happenstance.

Love.

My drama teacher at the School of Excellence set homework for the class to ask for people's different opinions on the subject of love. It's been interesting getting people's opinions (even though, really, I could have guessed the responses of some of my friends and certain friends could have given more depth) but it's kind of made me wonder what I think. I've never known for sure what I think, I think I know, but I think I disagree. While I agree, to some extent, with the Beatles in that "love is all you need," [obviously, for some things, you would need skills and/or time and/or a forklift, but hey] I disagree with Carrie Bradshaw in that love should be, "inconvinient and all-consuming."
I've always felt that love was something that happened to other people. Not that I'm bitter about this, I've never actively chased it down, nor expected it to chase me, especially seeing what idiots certain friends of mine became when attacked by it. Though I'm confident I'll not become such an idiot, it's still a scary thought.
I'm not sure what I'd do for love. Unlike Meat Loaf, I wouldn't do 'anything for love' [and I definately wouldn't do that]. I don't quite know what I would do, but I know what I wouldn't do. Provided I was in a position where I could up and shift, perhaps I would move country [within reason and only if I were actually planning on spending my life with that person]. I wouldn't change/take up religion, give up a job, kill or die for love and my dignity probably wouldn't survive if I hurled myself at a person immediately [who am I? Juliet?].
For every one of my friends who have the view that love is this shining light that you should search for, live for, die for, I have a cynical friend who I can sit in a corner and grumble with at parties. For every grandmother, disappointed that I didn't dramatically devote all my time and attention and the rest of my life to that guy I was dating for a while last year, I have a dad with my best interests in mind. For every person-who-lives-in-my-house-that-my-mother-seems-fond-of who hints that I might be a lesbian, I have a blog into which I can pour my poorly-constructed thoughts into.
As far as how I feel about love, I think I'll continue with the Modus Operandi I've had for the last 17 years [which, coincidentally, is the M.O. I have with assignments). I'll get around to it.