I really just do not even know where to start.
(I can't post song lyrics on my blog, I just can't. It's yucky.)
I guess, first off, let's say this. I know it is not groundbreaking to not like Taylor Swift's songs. I know that songwriting allows for some creative license in terms of phrasing and accuracy, and I also know that she is a young girl who writes songs for young girls. I mean, when I was in 10th grade I thought "Eternal Flame" by The Bangles was the best song in the world. I had a whole daydream fantasy worked out where I would wear a super rad outfit from The Limited and Chad Rhodes would kiss me and then let me wear his leather bomber jacket, and "Eternal Flame" was the soundtrack to the whole scenario. So I get that some teenage girls are maybe not the most discriminating when it comes to music, but then I sort of wonder if maybe that's because most of them only hear crap music with crap lyrics like this. And you know, kudos I suppose to Taylor Swift who is obviously talented but maybe could use that talent to write way better songs. Because this one in particular is terrible.
The first thing that made my head explode was: "'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter." Uhhhhhh. I do not think Taylor Swift means to say that she couldn't go out with this boy because she was being publicly shamed for fornicating with another woman's husband. It is just so willfully ignorant of, oh I don't know, the last three to five hundred years of literature. There is also the persistent use of the phrase "my daddy," which...just...well.
So, anyway, then we have this image of...a princess? Or something? In any case a young girl and boy who meet at a party where there are ball gowns and then they instantly fall in love. Except they never see each other because her dad is mean, and she cries on the staircase, only sometimes they sneak out together, to the garden. During these times they don't speak to one another because they will be murdered if they're discovered. It's extremely dramatic. And for some reason it really pisses me off when she says, "This love is difficult...but it's RE-EAL!" Oh yeah, it's so difficult to sit silently next to someone in a garden and moon at them all night long after blatantly disobeying your father, who after all probably has good reason to forbid you from seeing a boy that throws pebbles at your window and wants you to sneak out at night.
Kids.
But the end of the song is the grossest part, because here is where all! Her problems! Are solved! With a ring! Just when she's starting to think -- hey this is sort of some bullshit, me sitting around being sad about a guy I'm not allowed to date and who never shows up to see me anyway, saving the pebble-throwing garden booty calls -- he fucking goes behind her back and, man to man, negotiates her release from her father. Good thing that's settled! And don't worry honey, pick out a white dress, I've saved you from being alone.
Vomit, okay? Just vomit. I realize this probably makes me a shitty person, to be so mean about a harmless little love song, but I really think the less a bunch of 15-year-olds listen to garbage like this, the better. I think 15-year-old girls are probably smarter than this song, and I think they deserve music that is way more rad.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Blogger, Please.
So yes, for those of you who asked, I do have my insurance coverage back. The bigger point of the story really is, "mail your shit in early." I find that avoids a lot of problems, just in general.
Hm, what else. Well, I'm working my little head off over here, mostly in segregation from the rest of humankind other than my boyfriend. So we joke that we've developed our own language, which mostly revolves around repeating the Mandarin word for "carrot," and that we probably shouldn't be allowed out in public. And yeah, hahaha and everything but also: probably sort of true.
Speaking of my boyfriend, he was sick for a few days last week. Not OMGSWINEFLU like everyone else, but a head cold, and we were pretty much shut-ins for most of the week. Him by necessity since he felt like crap and me by choice so I could take care of him and be a nice girlfriend but also, the better to stay away from the sneezing, snotting hordes of the general public. I haven't had my flu shot yet and this panics me in a way that I don't find completely sane or attractive, because there is nothing I hate more than those people who hear you are sick and instead of saying, "Oh, bummer, that sucks," they leap away from you and screech "EeeEEWWWWWW don't get me SICK!" Okay well don't shake my hand and stick your fingers in your mouth, then.
Except -- I have sort of become one of those people. I went to have dinner with my family Sunday night and I have a seven-year-old cousin, and god love him, but children are hotbeds of sickness, and I'm crossing my fingers that whatever little pathogens he may have brought home from the playground were good and dead by Sunday night. So far, so good...but I can't help but continue to view the world around me as a giant petri dish.
I have this post brewing in my head about how furious Taylor Swift's song lyrics make me, she sets the women's movement back to Lancelot and Guinevere, but I think it should just stay in my head. We're all safer that way, probably.
Hm, what else. Well, I'm working my little head off over here, mostly in segregation from the rest of humankind other than my boyfriend. So we joke that we've developed our own language, which mostly revolves around repeating the Mandarin word for "carrot," and that we probably shouldn't be allowed out in public. And yeah, hahaha and everything but also: probably sort of true.
Speaking of my boyfriend, he was sick for a few days last week. Not OMGSWINEFLU like everyone else, but a head cold, and we were pretty much shut-ins for most of the week. Him by necessity since he felt like crap and me by choice so I could take care of him and be a nice girlfriend but also, the better to stay away from the sneezing, snotting hordes of the general public. I haven't had my flu shot yet and this panics me in a way that I don't find completely sane or attractive, because there is nothing I hate more than those people who hear you are sick and instead of saying, "Oh, bummer, that sucks," they leap away from you and screech "EeeEEWWWWWW don't get me SICK!" Okay well don't shake my hand and stick your fingers in your mouth, then.
Except -- I have sort of become one of those people. I went to have dinner with my family Sunday night and I have a seven-year-old cousin, and god love him, but children are hotbeds of sickness, and I'm crossing my fingers that whatever little pathogens he may have brought home from the playground were good and dead by Sunday night. So far, so good...but I can't help but continue to view the world around me as a giant petri dish.
I have this post brewing in my head about how furious Taylor Swift's song lyrics make me, she sets the women's movement back to Lancelot and Guinevere, but I think it should just stay in my head. We're all safer that way, probably.
Friday, October 23, 2009
A Falsehood.
Allow me to tell you a little story about my health insurance.
So I'm still unemployed, or I guess you could say "underemployed," because I'm working but the pay is not steady or guaranteed or all that great. That means my health insurance is through COBRA, which allows people to continue the coverage they had with their employer.
Of course, this costs money. And really it is much easier to have COBRA this time around, at least a lot easier than it was the other time I was laid off. Now there are new laws in place that make it much more affordable (though for a shorter period of time). Still, it's much easier to keep it now. So that's nice. Also, there is a pretty long grace period in which to elect the coverage. So really, it's hard to fuck up keeping your coverage. I feel obligated to say that, because a lot of times people complain about shit that's their own fault.
I mean...I do that too, but this is different.
So, I didn't elect COBRA coverage right away because I wasn't sure I'd need it. But not having insurance is simply not an option for me, not after the infamous Gall Bladder Incident of '95, when on my SECOND DAY without health insurance, I suffered the first of a series of painful gallstone attacks, turned jaundiced and promptly needed surgery. This lesson, which cost many many thousands of dollars, is not one soon forgotten.
Finally last month it came time for me to elect the coverage or lose my chance, so I wrote a big fat check to An Insurance Company Which Shall Not Be Named and took it to the post office (this is important for later) two days before the required postmark date. Because here's the thing, if you want something postmarked with a specific date and you don't have access to a postage meter, you take it to the fucking post office. So I mailed it and then I went on vacation.
Periodically during vacation I would check my bank balance and it seemed awfully large. I chalked it up to bureaucratic inefficiency and didn't worry too much about why the insurance company hadn't cashed my check, but then the day after I got back from vacation I got a letter from them that said YOU ARE FUCKED. Actually it said my coverage had been cancelled due to non-payment. Which was just silly because I had taken that stupid check to the post office! Moreover...where was my check? Because if someone isn't going to cash it, and doesn't want any liability in relation to that uncashed check, shouldn't they mail it back? Or tear it up?
So I called The Insurance Company Which Shall Not Be Named and I inquired as to the cancellation and my check, which had to my knowledge been mailed in a timely fashion, with the required postmark. I said I wondered why my check hadn't been cashed? And the representative on the phone said, "Oh we kicked it back to you because it was late." And I said...but it wasn't really late, and no you didn't "kick it back" to me, because I don't have it. So then he said, "We destroyed it." Okay so...which one of those things was it, because those are two different courses of action which produce two different results. I was told to file an "appeal" over fax, which sounds to me like something very much designed to not get anywhere. But I did it and I waited...
And waited. And then one day not long ago I checked my bank balance and the check had cleared.
How...
...mysterious!
The check had maaaaagically been cashed, this incredible check that had been mailed back to me and then destroyed. What a talented and unusual check that was, that check should probably be in a fucking museum somewhere. Don't you think? Because the only other explanation is that someone lied about that check. Because...if they destroyed it...then how would they have it...to cash it...only after I complained?
I guess the lesson here is to never take no for an answer. Particularly if you feel you are being screwed.
So I'm still unemployed, or I guess you could say "underemployed," because I'm working but the pay is not steady or guaranteed or all that great. That means my health insurance is through COBRA, which allows people to continue the coverage they had with their employer.
Of course, this costs money. And really it is much easier to have COBRA this time around, at least a lot easier than it was the other time I was laid off. Now there are new laws in place that make it much more affordable (though for a shorter period of time). Still, it's much easier to keep it now. So that's nice. Also, there is a pretty long grace period in which to elect the coverage. So really, it's hard to fuck up keeping your coverage. I feel obligated to say that, because a lot of times people complain about shit that's their own fault.
I mean...I do that too, but this is different.
So, I didn't elect COBRA coverage right away because I wasn't sure I'd need it. But not having insurance is simply not an option for me, not after the infamous Gall Bladder Incident of '95, when on my SECOND DAY without health insurance, I suffered the first of a series of painful gallstone attacks, turned jaundiced and promptly needed surgery. This lesson, which cost many many thousands of dollars, is not one soon forgotten.
Finally last month it came time for me to elect the coverage or lose my chance, so I wrote a big fat check to An Insurance Company Which Shall Not Be Named and took it to the post office (this is important for later) two days before the required postmark date. Because here's the thing, if you want something postmarked with a specific date and you don't have access to a postage meter, you take it to the fucking post office. So I mailed it and then I went on vacation.
Periodically during vacation I would check my bank balance and it seemed awfully large. I chalked it up to bureaucratic inefficiency and didn't worry too much about why the insurance company hadn't cashed my check, but then the day after I got back from vacation I got a letter from them that said YOU ARE FUCKED. Actually it said my coverage had been cancelled due to non-payment. Which was just silly because I had taken that stupid check to the post office! Moreover...where was my check? Because if someone isn't going to cash it, and doesn't want any liability in relation to that uncashed check, shouldn't they mail it back? Or tear it up?
So I called The Insurance Company Which Shall Not Be Named and I inquired as to the cancellation and my check, which had to my knowledge been mailed in a timely fashion, with the required postmark. I said I wondered why my check hadn't been cashed? And the representative on the phone said, "Oh we kicked it back to you because it was late." And I said...but it wasn't really late, and no you didn't "kick it back" to me, because I don't have it. So then he said, "We destroyed it." Okay so...which one of those things was it, because those are two different courses of action which produce two different results. I was told to file an "appeal" over fax, which sounds to me like something very much designed to not get anywhere. But I did it and I waited...
And waited. And then one day not long ago I checked my bank balance and the check had cleared.
How...
...mysterious!
The check had maaaaagically been cashed, this incredible check that had been mailed back to me and then destroyed. What a talented and unusual check that was, that check should probably be in a fucking museum somewhere. Don't you think? Because the only other explanation is that someone lied about that check. Because...if they destroyed it...then how would they have it...to cash it...only after I complained?
I guess the lesson here is to never take no for an answer. Particularly if you feel you are being screwed.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A Belated Project Runway Post.
Uh-oh, someone's starting to look like the Jeffrey Sebelia of this season.
"Yeah, I just got word that I'm better than everyone else? Like, not even on this show but in general."
Okay, so that's not a real quote, but I think it's fair to say Irina wouldn't have a problem with the gist of that statement.
The other day I was watching the latest episode of Project Runway on my DVR and I started to get very tired of hearing Irina take haughty, gorgeous, shiny-haired shits on everyone. Nicholas does it too, but he's funny. Also he has no problem admitting other people are talented. Irina refuses to believe she exists in a universe where this is even possible.
Also, she's "not here to make friends." SURPRISE.
I am a little surprised that Shirin got kicked off rather than Christopher. I like Christopher, but he designed a pair of silver Little Bo Peep hot pants. Actually I think this is exactly the kind of garment Christina Aguilera would have no problem wearing, but I guess she was having more of a VH1 Divas moment than a Lady Marmalade moment. Divas! Who can predict what they'll do next.
In other reality show news...I am praying for the day Robin gets kicked off Top Chef. Not because I have strong feelings about her one way or another, though she is a little annoying, but because the pack behavior toward her makes me uncomfortable. At this point Eli and Mike Bugeyes have to be grinding their teeth into ineffectual nubbins over the fact she is still on the show; undoubtedly at some point next week we'll hear one of them lament that "more talented people" have gone home.
But that is a stupid thing to be mad about, because why would you be bummed about the competition being eliminated? Actually Mike Bugeyes and Eli should be ecstatic Robin is still there. Presumably they will outlast her, whereas the lamented "more talented" cast members might actually challenge them for primacy, something these sad little men obviously can't bear to contemplate. I don't hear Jennifer or Kevin or the Robot Brothers crying about it, probably because they are quite comfortable with their chances of winning. Of course...the Robot Brothers are not known to experience emotion, so maybe that's it. Maybe they have no access to an Inadequacy Chip that would tell them how to behave.
"Yeah, I just got word that I'm better than everyone else? Like, not even on this show but in general."
Okay, so that's not a real quote, but I think it's fair to say Irina wouldn't have a problem with the gist of that statement.
The other day I was watching the latest episode of Project Runway on my DVR and I started to get very tired of hearing Irina take haughty, gorgeous, shiny-haired shits on everyone. Nicholas does it too, but he's funny. Also he has no problem admitting other people are talented. Irina refuses to believe she exists in a universe where this is even possible.
Also, she's "not here to make friends." SURPRISE.
I am a little surprised that Shirin got kicked off rather than Christopher. I like Christopher, but he designed a pair of silver Little Bo Peep hot pants. Actually I think this is exactly the kind of garment Christina Aguilera would have no problem wearing, but I guess she was having more of a VH1 Divas moment than a Lady Marmalade moment. Divas! Who can predict what they'll do next.
In other reality show news...I am praying for the day Robin gets kicked off Top Chef. Not because I have strong feelings about her one way or another, though she is a little annoying, but because the pack behavior toward her makes me uncomfortable. At this point Eli and Mike Bugeyes have to be grinding their teeth into ineffectual nubbins over the fact she is still on the show; undoubtedly at some point next week we'll hear one of them lament that "more talented people" have gone home.
But that is a stupid thing to be mad about, because why would you be bummed about the competition being eliminated? Actually Mike Bugeyes and Eli should be ecstatic Robin is still there. Presumably they will outlast her, whereas the lamented "more talented" cast members might actually challenge them for primacy, something these sad little men obviously can't bear to contemplate. I don't hear Jennifer or Kevin or the Robot Brothers crying about it, probably because they are quite comfortable with their chances of winning. Of course...the Robot Brothers are not known to experience emotion, so maybe that's it. Maybe they have no access to an Inadequacy Chip that would tell them how to behave.
Friday, October 16, 2009
I've Been Writing All Day Today.
I changed the language on my parents' Garmin to Swedish last night. Actually it changed itself to Cyrillic first and then I changed it to Swedish in a misguided effort to move things westward a bit.
What happened was I borrowed the Garmin to take on vacation with us, because I hate getting lost. I like maps, and maps help sometimes, but what I really want is for someone to say, "turn right, and then three miles down the road turn left, and I-64 will be straight ahead." I hate driving in circles and making guesswork out of it, it makes me feel crazy. So I wanted the Garmin in case we got in a jam, I don't like to waste time looking for highway on-ramps.
So. I was taking the thing back to my parents' house last night. I was driving on 271 when I heard my purse start going BOOP. BOOP. Now -- bear with me for a minute -- I heard or read somewhere, or maybe I just told myself (that is actually a pretty funny joke, when you see how this sentence ends) that having a conversation with yourself is a sign of intelligence. Not talking to yourself but asking and answering your...self. I do this a lot, quiz myself about mundane things, when it is really not necessary. (Between my work and blogging and reading and oh yeah TALKING, my existence is terrifically verbal. Excessively so.) So I hear this BOOP. BOOP. And I ask myself, out loud, "What is that, is that my phone?" I answer myself: "No. Oh. It's the Garmin."
I fish it out of my purse (very safe while driving) to shut it off and I notice I can't read anything on it. It is all mumbo jumbo, or I guess if you were Russian, you would call it the alphabet. And I know there is a menu where you can change the language but of course I can't find that menu since it's now in Cyrillic. At a stoplight I fool with it, trying to at least get the display into one of the Romance languages where I might be able to find my way out of Siberia. But the closest I can get to France or Italy is Sweden. Which is still not helpful.
How did I get out of this mess? I went home, gave it to my dad and asked if he could fix it. Some things never change.
So as the title of this post would indicate, I've been working all day, at home in my pajamas the way I like it. But of course it's not always easy, even considering the pajamas. My eyes hurt and actually my whole head hurts a little because it's hard. And actually...it's hard to feel like you are Smart And Together when you're wearing plaid flannel drawstring-waist pants. Maybe I just need to put on a dress and heels, but that seems like a lot of effort at the moment.
This is the best thing I've read today. You should read it and then bookmark it so you can read it twice.
What happened was I borrowed the Garmin to take on vacation with us, because I hate getting lost. I like maps, and maps help sometimes, but what I really want is for someone to say, "turn right, and then three miles down the road turn left, and I-64 will be straight ahead." I hate driving in circles and making guesswork out of it, it makes me feel crazy. So I wanted the Garmin in case we got in a jam, I don't like to waste time looking for highway on-ramps.
So. I was taking the thing back to my parents' house last night. I was driving on 271 when I heard my purse start going BOOP. BOOP. Now -- bear with me for a minute -- I heard or read somewhere, or maybe I just told myself (that is actually a pretty funny joke, when you see how this sentence ends) that having a conversation with yourself is a sign of intelligence. Not talking to yourself but asking and answering your...self. I do this a lot, quiz myself about mundane things, when it is really not necessary. (Between my work and blogging and reading and oh yeah TALKING, my existence is terrifically verbal. Excessively so.) So I hear this BOOP. BOOP. And I ask myself, out loud, "What is that, is that my phone?" I answer myself: "No. Oh. It's the Garmin."
I fish it out of my purse (very safe while driving) to shut it off and I notice I can't read anything on it. It is all mumbo jumbo, or I guess if you were Russian, you would call it the alphabet. And I know there is a menu where you can change the language but of course I can't find that menu since it's now in Cyrillic. At a stoplight I fool with it, trying to at least get the display into one of the Romance languages where I might be able to find my way out of Siberia. But the closest I can get to France or Italy is Sweden. Which is still not helpful.
How did I get out of this mess? I went home, gave it to my dad and asked if he could fix it. Some things never change.
So as the title of this post would indicate, I've been working all day, at home in my pajamas the way I like it. But of course it's not always easy, even considering the pajamas. My eyes hurt and actually my whole head hurts a little because it's hard. And actually...it's hard to feel like you are Smart And Together when you're wearing plaid flannel drawstring-waist pants. Maybe I just need to put on a dress and heels, but that seems like a lot of effort at the moment.
This is the best thing I've read today. You should read it and then bookmark it so you can read it twice.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Apple Pickin' Good Times
Hey, I'm back from vacation, which ended up being 12 days long even though it was originally supposed to be 8. I never did this before, just not coming back right away after a vacation, and you know? It is fucking great. It is a great, liberating, life-affirming thing to do. Now, of course, the only reason I was able to do that is because I don't have a full-time job, which...I mean, compromise. But still, fucking great.
Frankly, we deserved an extension after the drive down to Kill Devil Hills because did you know it can rain for almost nine hours straight, across five states? It can, and it did. Also, there was fog, biblical horror-movie fog. And semi trucks, like four thousand of them. So, it was not nice, not even a little.
But...it (almost) fades away because you get to wake up every morning and have breakfast on your balcony by the sea, and sometimes you get to watch dolphins. We saw the dolphins a lot this year, I think they felt bad about the rain. Also new for this year: we rented bikes for the week, which is astonishingly cheap and easy. Also cheap in the South: beer, gas, cigarettes (though we didn't smoke), glorious seafood, pulled pork. I love it down there. I love it I love it I love it.
So we came back here and it was 50 degrees and very definitely FALL. Which is still sort of a bummer in the morning, I want to see dolphins frolicking in the ocean and eat breakfast with my sunglasses on, god damn it. Not burrow more deeply into my bed so as to avoid the particular brand of cold found during the pre-heat-turning-on period of apartment buildings with steam heat.
But then we went apple picking.
You can't do that down south, at least not on a cool sunny fall day where the sky is a particularly stunning shade of blue that makes the trees look insanely pretty.
If only we had dolphins!
Frankly, we deserved an extension after the drive down to Kill Devil Hills because did you know it can rain for almost nine hours straight, across five states? It can, and it did. Also, there was fog, biblical horror-movie fog. And semi trucks, like four thousand of them. So, it was not nice, not even a little.
But...it (almost) fades away because you get to wake up every morning and have breakfast on your balcony by the sea, and sometimes you get to watch dolphins. We saw the dolphins a lot this year, I think they felt bad about the rain. Also new for this year: we rented bikes for the week, which is astonishingly cheap and easy. Also cheap in the South: beer, gas, cigarettes (though we didn't smoke), glorious seafood, pulled pork. I love it down there. I love it I love it I love it.
So we came back here and it was 50 degrees and very definitely FALL. Which is still sort of a bummer in the morning, I want to see dolphins frolicking in the ocean and eat breakfast with my sunglasses on, god damn it. Not burrow more deeply into my bed so as to avoid the particular brand of cold found during the pre-heat-turning-on period of apartment buildings with steam heat.
But then we went apple picking.
You can't do that down south, at least not on a cool sunny fall day where the sky is a particularly stunning shade of blue that makes the trees look insanely pretty.
If only we had dolphins!
Friday, October 02, 2009
Lakeview Cemetery
Yup, still on vacation. Had some downtime, so here you go.
An awfully long time ago I told you I'd show you some pictures I took when my boyfriend and I took a stroll around Lakeview Cemetery. I am going to do that today!
You'll recall that earlier this summer we went to Bat Night at the cemetery. I didn't take my camera along, because it was sweaty and buggy and I am enough of a whiny bitch to not want to lug around a big ol' camera (which is especially big now, as I have inexplicably fallen back in love with my zoom lens). But then on a heart-burstingly beautiful September day, we went back to Lakeview and I took some pictures to share with you.
First, this cemetery is lovely during the day but not without its creepiness at dusk. Lakeview is full of what I imagine were Cleveland's finest citizens, citizens fond of large monuments, life-size statuary and above-ground crypts for the whole family. During the day, it is one thing to walk around and see these things, but can you imagine happening upon this at night?
ARGH. [shudder]
Oh, and she has a friend. Also life-size.
On bat night, we all walked down into an open field, which will presumably be um...occupied at some point, and came across this:
I called it Creepytown Village. Which is definitely disrespectful and yet definitely apt.
Orbs! Ghost orbs! Or, a dirty lens. Either way.
I mean...this looks like a nice place to spend your eternal rest. But my question with these things is always...windows? Really?
Definitely hobbit crypt. Not without its charm.
Oh hey, have a seat, check out how many dead relatives you have!
Lakeview Cemetery is definitely worth a visit, even if you are not a bat.
An awfully long time ago I told you I'd show you some pictures I took when my boyfriend and I took a stroll around Lakeview Cemetery. I am going to do that today!
You'll recall that earlier this summer we went to Bat Night at the cemetery. I didn't take my camera along, because it was sweaty and buggy and I am enough of a whiny bitch to not want to lug around a big ol' camera (which is especially big now, as I have inexplicably fallen back in love with my zoom lens). But then on a heart-burstingly beautiful September day, we went back to Lakeview and I took some pictures to share with you.
First, this cemetery is lovely during the day but not without its creepiness at dusk. Lakeview is full of what I imagine were Cleveland's finest citizens, citizens fond of large monuments, life-size statuary and above-ground crypts for the whole family. During the day, it is one thing to walk around and see these things, but can you imagine happening upon this at night?
ARGH. [shudder]
Oh, and she has a friend. Also life-size.
On bat night, we all walked down into an open field, which will presumably be um...occupied at some point, and came across this:
I called it Creepytown Village. Which is definitely disrespectful and yet definitely apt.
Orbs! Ghost orbs! Or, a dirty lens. Either way.
I mean...this looks like a nice place to spend your eternal rest. But my question with these things is always...windows? Really?
Definitely hobbit crypt. Not without its charm.
Oh hey, have a seat, check out how many dead relatives you have!
Lakeview Cemetery is definitely worth a visit, even if you are not a bat.
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