This post was written by guest author, Shannon.
For those of you who had no desire to watch the Dawson’s Creek series finale, much less read a review, you should probably stop reading this now. However, if you are curious as to why I feel that the Dawson’s Creek series finale did not do the show or it’s viewers justice, you may continue.
Before I begin, I would like to say that I think the writers did a reasonably good job with the ending, at least as it regards to Jack and Jen. The ending, which consisting of Jen dying and Jack agreeing to take care of her daughter, left the audience sad, but content.
Joey, however, is a far different story. If you know anything about Dawson’s Creek, you are aware of the love triangle that exists between Joey, Dawson and Pacey. The problem, throughout the series, has been that Joey can never quite make up her mind between the two. The writers of the show realized that Joey must finally make up her mind and choose; however, the way they scripted it was all wrong.
My first problem is that Joey ended up with Pacey. Everybody knows that Joey is supposed to be with Dawson. The two have always proclaimed that they are soul mates, and that they were basically meant to be together. However, the writers choose to end it with Joey and Pacey; I probably could have accepted this ending, if it were not for the horrible script of this last episode.
The way I see it, the writers were so concerned and focused on trying to keep the audience in suspense until the last minute that they traded in the essential chemisty-building between the couple. Throughout the hour, she had serious conversations with both Pacey and Dawson, and went back and forth between the two. Near the very end, Dawson and Joey have a very serious conversation, during which they conclude that their relationship is deeper that that of friends or lovers, and that no matter who they are with, it will always be that way. First of all, if you feel that strongly about each other, it would seem that you would want to be together. But no, because in the next scene we see Joey, watching the scene played again in Dawson’s tv show, while she is sitting on the couch with Pacey at her side, in presumably the place they live together.
The whole conclusion left me feeling quite letdown, and very disappointed. Obviously I think that Joey should have ended up with Dawson, but since she didn’t, I think the writers could have done a much better building the relationship between Pacey and Joey to a point where the audience could accept it. Basically, I think this series finale falls in the category of Worst Series Finales, just slightly above the Felicity Finale, which wasn’t that hard to beat.
~ fin ~
This post was written by guest author, Shannon.
Let me begin this article by saying that dreams, in my opinion, are one of the coolest things that are brain is capable of creating. It seems amazing that we can come up with really strange, comical, and sometimes profound, ideas and stories while we are sleeping. It is always fun to recall your dreams and try to figure out what they might have meant, or what they might mean in the future. However, while the notion that dreams have a significant meaning in our lives is fun to think about, I am hear to tell you that they don’t. I have come to this conclusion based on the following experiences.
A few nights ago, I had a very strange dream. It involved kissing, Cameron Abel, and a cave with water that contained either sharks or alligators, I’m not sure. Now, while in real life I do tend to kiss once in a while, it does not usually involve Cameron. Furthermore, unlike many girls at Boone High School, I have never possessed anything more than very platonic feelings for Cameron, which makes it all the more odd that he would end up in my dream. Also, I have never been in a cave. Now, many people would try to analyze this and attempt to piece it all together to find some hidden meaning, so for those people, I’ll save you the time: There is no hidden meaning. It is merely a random twist of the imagination, probably added in with a fear of sharks and alligators. 
For my next example, I’ve chosen the dream where I was kissing Justin Cox. (So I kiss in my dreams a lot! So what?!) Anyway, in this dream, I was at a social gathering with Justin, Wayne, and another couple that I didn’t recognize. Anyway, so in the dream, I kissed Justin, plotted not to tell Wayne about it, broke up with Wayne, started to leave with Justin, and then got sad and missed Wayne, so I broke up with Justin, and found Wayne again. Now, this dream also makes no sense. For one thing, I don’t like Justin; besides that, I try to be an honest person, so it makes no sense that I would plan to lie about things like that. So, basically, this dreams just weird.
Finally, if you still think dreams might contain some potential meaning in our everyday lives, I have the dream to disprove your notion. This dream is interesting, mostly because I’ve had this dream twice. So basically, I’m a little kid, at my old house, and my dad is talking to a salesperson outside. (See, first of all, my dad doesn’t talk to salespeople.) Anyway, so all of the sudden, a wolf walks up into the yard. I don’t mean a real wolf; I mean like a Disney costume character, like Minnie or Mickey, except it’s a wolf. Well, so the wolf pulls off his head, and underneath he’s my dad!! And then my dad pulls off his head, and underneath he’s the costume-character wolf. And then I wake up. It makes no sense, not at all.
So, while looking up topics in online Dream Dictionaries is fun, it is probably a waste of time.
~ fin ~
This post was written by guest author, Shannon.
I’m sure everyone has had a bad day at some point, and while you’re actually having that day, it’s not very fun. However, the great thing about these days is that they make for somewhat funny stories later on. I recently had a bad day, and, because I’m at a loss of topics to write about it, I will share it with all of you.
The day actually begin quite nicely. I went to babysit, and then hurried home to change before my one o’clock class. I had very little time between the baby-sitting and school, so I quickly changed into what I thought was an acceptable outfit, and then I hurried off to school.
The great thing about UCF is that it reminds me a lot of Boone, in that on any given day, some part of the school is under construction. So, there I was walking through campus, when I stepped into a mud puddle. It wasn’t raining, so I can only assume that the mud puddle was the result of the nearby construction workers doing who knows what. I tried to carely lift my foot out of the puddle, but I was wearing flip flops, and in the process of getting my foot out, I also managed to get mud streaks down the back of my leg. Yuck.
So, like any normal person, I headed for the nearest restroom. When I arrived in the restroom and looked into the mirror, I was shocked by two horrible things. The first thing that I noticed was that, when I had stepped into the mud puddle, I had sloshed mud not only on my leg, but on the back of my brand new tan colored shorts. So I had mud marks on my butt. That was bad enough, but then…
I turned around. Apparently, in my haste of changing clothes, I had neglected to realize that I was wearing a thin dark blue shirt, and a white bra. For those of you who don’t know, this can sometimes be a problem, and it is against all of the clothing rules. Yep, so I had mud marks on my butt, and you could see my bra through my shirt. This was definitely a bad day, my friends…..but then it got worse.
It got worse after I met Wayne and then I had to actually use the restroom. For those of you that have never been to UCF, one of the buildings has bathrooms that are for a different gender every other floor. I’m use to being on the main floor, which is the woman’s restroom. This time, however, I was one floor higher. So, I quickly pushed the door open, and stepped into the strangest place I’ve ever seen. Yes, it was the men’s restroom. “Something is not right,” I thought. As soon as I realized my mistake, I hightailed it out of there. As I was coming out of the restroom, my face probably showing my suprise, a boy that was walking in laughed at me. To my face. I didn’t even know him, and he laughed at me. It was very, very embarressing.
THE END
~ fin ~
This post was written by guest author, Shannon.
Today I decided to break into this new website and end the monotony of the 15 articles the Justin posts per day. Today I decided that life would be a million times easier if we were all fish. (Go with me on this.) I came to this conclusion while I was lying on my bed and watching the fish in my fishtank. In a way, they have a really crappy life because I rarly ever change the water so they are basically swimming in their own feces, but whatever. On the other hand, they pretty much have it made. I mean, they really don’t have any problems, they get fed everyday, they don’t have to actually do anything except swim around, and they have absolutely nothing to worry about. Even fish in the ocean have an easy life, because the only thing they really have to worry about it getting eaten by another fish. And, even then, it really doesn’t matter if they die because, really, they were only a fish in the first place.
~ fin ~
This post was written by guest author, Shannon.
In light of the many “chick flicks” that have been bombarding the big screens in recent months (i.e. Two Weeks Notice, Maid in Manhatten, Sweet Home Alabama, etc., etc.), I’ve decided to clarify for the guys just what these movies have to offer the female gender (or, at least me.)
I know, I know. You males hate chick flicks, or at least the majority of them. You want action movies; you want fighting; you want to see blood. You want the adrenaline rush and the heart-racing action that keeps your eyes riveted on the screen for hours. I understand all that. For girls, however, a great movie goes much deeper than that.
You see, when we fine women of today were simply wee little girls (way back when you were playing with G.I. Joe’s and wearing airplane underwear), we were watching Disney movies. And not just any Disney movies; I don’t mean Bambi or Dumbo, or the like. I mean Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White and Beauty and the Beast. All of these movies possessed a fairy tale story. Each movie contained a handsome prince and beautiful girl; each time, the prince would come and sweep the girl off her feet, in a dazzling display of magic. Often, they got to ride off into the sunset on a white horse. When we watched these movies, we could pretend that we were the princess, and we were adored by the that handsome prince. It was engrained into our minds; we developed the notion that all guys were sweet, handsome princes that would adore us and make us feel special.
Still, we had to grow up. In the process, we realized that while some guys are handsome, maybe even sweet, they aren’t like the fairy tales. It’s not their fault, of course; we aren’t princesses either. Thus, we came to understand that fairy tales are not a reality.
But you see, when we watch those “chick flicks”, the kind where the guy is handsome, thoughtful, and romantic, it puts us back into the fairy tale dream again. It lets us pretend that there really are prince charmings and Cinderellas, and they really do live happily ever after. It lets us feel special again.
~ fin ~
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