Charlie is my Home Boy

As some of you may have gathered from my blogs, and if your lucky to know me well enough, my phone calls, I'm having a great time at Notre Dame despite my apprehensions all throughout the summer. However, I didn't really fall in love with this place until the first home football game. Notre Dame really does have the best school spirit and the best student section in the world. Now, I'm not a big football fan. I just learned what a first down is. But the excitement of the game just catches you up. It's unavoidable, and I love it. Last Saturday, the morning of the first home game, one of the boys' dorms (Zahm) came outside my dorm (P.E.) at 5:00 a.m. yelling "Wake up PE!" which was very effective in waking me up. At 7:30, I was re-awakened by the upperclassmen banging on my door and yelling "Get up freshmen or we'll get the master key and drag you out of bed!" That was not an empty promise. From there we practiced the cheers for the game (I freakin' love the Irish jig) and then got ready for the game. Campus was all a-buzz. Yes, that sounds corny and cliche, but it is oh-so true. People were everywhere in green, gold, and blue selling hot dogs, shouting cheers, watching the band, etc. The frosh of 6A (my dorm section) have started a new tradition of sock decorating before the game, meaning we take white knee-socks and decorate them with magic markers.
The game itself was amazing. It was quite the emotional roller-coaster, with Notre Dame being down three touchdowns, but coming back just in time to tie the game up and bring it into overtime. The student section is so exciting and I have never yelled so much in my life. At every ND touchdown, small groups of people lift one person up to do pushups as many times as the score. Now I know where Hoban got that tradition from. Looking across the student section and seeing so many people being thrown up in the air is awesome. Overtime was nervewracking and ended in a heartbreaking loss for ND. That was seriously the most heartbreaking sporting event I have ever witnessed. Again, I'm not a hardcore football fan or anything, but I was deeply affected by this game. The whole campus was somber the rest of the night and my friends and I basically went back to the dorm after the candlelight dinner and went to bed. It was that depressing. However, the Notre Dame spirit prevailed after the lost with a cheer of "We Are ND."
What's also amazing is how much the students love our football coach, Charlie Weis. They are even wearing shirts that say "Charlie's Angels: Putting the Nasty back in Dynasty" or "Charlie is my Home Boy" in the same style as the "Jesus is my Home Boy" shirts.
Regis Philbin was at the game and on Monday, I watched the beginning of Live! with Regis and Kelly and Regis spent a decent amount of time talking about Notre Dame and showing his personal pictures of him at the campus (i.e. Regis praying at the grotto, Regis at the dome, Regis saying hi to a duck at the lake). Does Regis ever talk about your school? I didn't think so. I win.
Enough about football. I wish I could give you an update on Asian chick, but she has become very uninteresting. But here is my latest dillemma:
My jeans got stolen. I am so incredibly upset. They were my favorite pair of Gap jeans. I left them in the laundry room to dry, as I have done many times before and as everyone else does. But when I went to get my jeans after dorm Mass on Sunday, they were gone. I immediately made "Lost Jeans" signs on my computer and taped them up around the dorm. So far, no one has given them back. I was going to send out a dorm-wide e-mail asking people to check and make sure they don't have my jeans, but my dear boxing buddy Angela brought me back to my denim realty and said "You know, if someone stole them, they're not going to give them back." Fooey. I have to go shopping now and that takes so much planning and time to get a bus.
NDTV, the student run television channel, has a show called "The Mike Peterson Show" and it's like a combination of Conan O'Brian and Saturday Night Live. I interviewed to be a writer for the show and I got in (yessss!). This made me think that I should perhaps change my role model from Katie Couric to Tina Fey, but that is beside the point. I went to the first writer's meeting in Washington Hall and was locked out of the building. I was pacing outside the building trying to figure out what to do until someone came along and opened a door that I hadn't even noticed. I go to the meeting, where I am one the only girls. At first, I thought this might be good, being among all these boys and me being single and in a boy-meeting slump (meaning I met a ton of boys frosh-o weekend but then all at once I stopped meeting them and am stuck with only a couple numbers and none of them connecting me to really attractive men, though there a lot of those on campus). However, I forgot to realize that most of the boys who are involved with television and writing are theater people, meaning they are either crazy or gay. This was fine, though, because I had been getting worried that I would have no crazy or gay friends on campus, given the conservative feel of it. I should have known that all I need to do is join a theater group.
Anyway, during the meeting, many ideas were tossed out there. Some of them were funny, some of them not so much. There was this one kid who had a plethora of over-the-line ideas. Everything that came out of this kid's mouth was violent/sexual/innapropriate/totally creepy. He was pretty creepy looking, too. He reminds me of the lead singer of the Crash Tests Dummies (They sang that Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm song). I'll be sure to stay away from him. On the plus side, my idea got picked and I get to act in it! Hooray! I would tell you the idea, but it doesn't really make sense in writing and if you don't go to Notre Dame. All I'm telling you is that I play a really obnoxious girl in the audience who shouts random stuff.
So I go to the filming for the Mike Peterson show at 2:00 because that's what time the e-mail said it was. I get there and everyone gives me really weird looks and I'm like "hey what's up?" and they're like "The filming isn't until 4:30" and I'm like "Oh, I thought the e-mail said 2:00" and they say "That was about yesterday's filming" I feel dumb and leave. I come back at 4:30 and get dressed in my "costume" which consists of "The Shirt", green athletic shorts, knee-high yellow socks, my turquoise Roo shoes and a side-ways baseball cap--basically what I wore for the football game (minus the cap). Right before the segment where I actually talk, the sound girl came and attatched a microphone to me. That was akward, considering she had to clip it onto the back of my pants. You get to know someone really fast when they have to clip something on your pants. So my scene comes on and I give my lines (which are actually a bunch of shouted ad-libs). After that my 30 seconds of stardom are over, I realize that every time I shout I close my eyes, giving my face a very strange expression, probably not matching the scenario. I'll just have to see how it turns out and hope that people will laugh with me and not at me. Or if they laugh at me, I hope that don't know who I am.
One more story...At the Mike Peterson show, there is a musical guest. This week, he was a sophomore guitar player from O'Neil hall. He is gorgeous. I try to catch his eye before the show, and despite my bright display of green and gold, he doesn't look over. I begin to lose hope, but once he starts performing, he occasionally looks at me in the audience and smiles. Warm fuzzies abound. After the show, I get up to leave and notice he is at the doorway, looking my way and smiling. I smile back and head over to tell him I enjoyed his performance (when what I really mean is "I enjoy your physique and hair style and chizzled facial features"). Just as I'm about to reach him, the elderly woman who had been sitting behind me in the audience goes up to him and gives him a hug. It is his grandma. Again, I feel stupid and leave. I hope that's not going to be a theme for my participation at the MPS.
This blog is kind of stale. I'm really sorry. I'm trying to think of something witty to say, but I just can't. Am I possibly losing my MoJo? I sure hope not. Since I have failed to entertain you with my words, I will try to please you with my pictures. Check out my brand spankin' new photo bucket account. Just type in "elisey1987" at photobucket.com. It's some good stuff. I'll leave you all with a little trivia question: What inatimate object in your home doubles in weight in the first 10 years of owning it? Leave a comment and try to answer. If you get it right, I'll doing something very Notre Damish like light a candle at the Grotto for you.