First off, I would just like everyone to know that the comment from "Sal" waseah not actually from the real Sal. That would have been mortifying.
For Halloween I was a vampirate, which is a cross between a vampire and a pirate. I thought it was clever, but most people just thought I was confused and asked why I was wearing a cape and an eye patch. Lauren, my cousin, just thought I was a dirty pirate hooker, which in some ways, is a more hilarious costume than vampirate. Though I can't really compete with her "Dagolicious" costume--a play on the Flavor of Love contestants. Did anyone see the reunion show? New York is getting her own dating show! What a ho!
I was sitting in computer class the other day, which is what I usually do, considering it is best to operate a computer from a sitting position as opposed to a standing or dancing etc. one. Anyway, before class starts, my two professors (I have two for this class because the main one doesn't really know what he's doing) start talking about kittens. Professor #1 says "I have a friend who was trying to sell a litter of kittens. She had a guy call and say he'd buy the whole litter." Professor # 2 "Oh, did you tell her?" Professor #1 "Oh yeah. I told her, don't sell those kittens to him. He's just going to feed them to his snake. And you know what? She called him on it and that's exactly what he was going to do." WHAT?! People buy entire litters of kittens to feed to their snakes!? And that was the only thing I learned in class that day.
An Italian film about terrorism and Aldo Moro called "Buongiorno, notte" (Good morning, night) was playing on campus so some of my Italian class friends and I decided to go. It was a pretty good film. Italian cinema is all about realism, so it can be a little dry, but it is good. Anyway, we were leaving the DPAC and talking about Aldo Moro when this older guy comes up to us and says, "Yeah, I was studying abroad through the St. Mary's program when all that stuff was going on." We were all impressed and asked him to tell us more. "I lived just a few streets away from where they found his body in the trunk of a car. It was crazy." We were amazed with the historically significant experience this man had, until he said the nex thing. "And it was awesome because I went to a dead-people themed costume party and won best costume because I dressed up like Aldo Moro. I just put a bunch of bullet holes in myself and climbed in the back of a trunk. It was awesome!" When we all just stared at him, he sauntered away, leaving us a tad creeped out.
Speaking of Italian things, I forgot to mention this in my blog, but a few weeks ago, my friend Heather and I got an e-mail from my Italian professor saying that our incessant talking was disturbing class and we are not allowed to sit next to each other. Here's the email. Keep in mind that the professor had never said anything to either of us indicating that we were disturbing class and that we really weren't talking very much at all. The email had the subject heading of "basta!" which means "enough!"
Care studentesse:
Ever since the beginning of the semester, you two have made a point to sit close
to one another (in the back row), and have seized many opportunities to whisper
and giggle amongst yourselves, almost every time I take my eyes off of you for
a few seconds.
I struggle to believe that you really consider this to be appropriate behavior.
If you have something to say that is relevant to our class, raise your hand and
do so out loud. If not, follow your classmates' example by paying attention and
not speaking (at any volume) when others are saying something.
As much as I want you to get a good grade in our class, if these kinds of
behaviors don't stop immediately and permanently, I guarantee you that you will
not.
You can start by not sitting next to or close to each other, and by refraining
from any action that could be considered distracting, disruptive, and generally
inappropriate for the classroom.
If you feel that I'm being unfair, I encourage you to take it up with the
Italian program director: Prof. Colleen Ryan-Scheutz, by e-mailing her at
ryan.104@nd.edu
If you see my point, show it with your actions and behavior.
Crazy, right? The professor sent this email to us the morning before he left town for a week, so we couldn't even say anything to him. We did end up talking to him and apologizing, though stating that we did not know we were causing a problem. He confessed that this email was a bad way to go about handling things, but another student in the class had emailed him saying that other students were distracting him/her and he/she couldn't focus. Now it's just a matter of who that student is so we can give him/her mean looks. It's only a class of 12 students. My bets are on the kid who responds to every question by running his hands through his hair and grunting "Ho dimenticato" (I forget).
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I May Have Salmonella
This post is coming to you from Stow because I'm on fall break! Yippee!! It's strange, last year I wasn't too thrilled about leaving my new home to go back to Stow for a week. This year, I could not wait to relax in a big bed in a big house with no work. I guess the honeymoon is over for college.
My first story takes place in the men's dorm Sorin. There was a party in the quint with the theme of "I'm in love with a stripper" or more specifically the Duke lacrosse team. You can imagine the classy crowd this attracted. I went in my usual going out gear, but it appeared as if some of the other girls had forgotten to put on any gear at all, like pants. Yep, some girls came in just their lingerie (and none of them were Asian Chick). These girls were of course the ones who chose to stand in the windows above the crowd and dance for all to see. The best part of the night was probably when Journey's "Dont' Stop Believing" came on and the window strippers didn't know how to dance to such a slow song, but they didn't want to give up the coveted window display spot, so they just sort of akwardly swayed, hoping everyone would still be looking at them. Anyone, the nearly nude girls in the window is not what this story is about. I was dancing, as one might do at a party, when a fairly attractive young man joined me. During the whole akward getting to know you while permiscuously grinding against you, I found out this guy's name (Sal), his major (don't remember), his hometown (who cares?), and what he does for outside of classes (bagpipes...). As soon as he found out that I box, he made his move with a gem of a pick up line "Have you ever played Fight Night for Xbox? Because I have it in my room. We could go play it...in my room...." Why I didn't jump him right then and there is hard to say, but I brushed him off for a while. He was persistent and for a second I actually believed that he really did just want to play video games. It was in that second that he grabbed my hand and led me out of the party and to his room. Don't worry, he was a gentleman about it and as we were leaving said "You sure your friends won't think your a whore if you leave with me now?" Nope, my friends will probably just think you slipped me a roofie. Once we got to his room, he made me take my shoes off before entering. A little strange, but ok. The carpet was immaculate. He puts on what may have been Justin Timberlake's new CD and says "Let's dance some more before we play the game." To my horror, in the midst of dancing, he turns his back to me, bends down to touch the ground, and snaps up. That's right, he did a bend and snap. And he was completely serious. Looking back, I should have made my exit then. Actually, I should have made my exit at the Justin Timberlake CD. Actually, I should have never entered, but then I wouldn't have such a fantastic story. After the bend and snap, Sal figured I was wooed enough by his smoothness and moved in for the kiss. This wasn't just any kiss. This was the craziest freakin' kiss of my life. Not crazy good like fireworks and head spinning. Crazy like he flicked his tongue up and down really fast before actually kissing me. This is why I will refer to him as Salamander from now on. After trying to tolerate this for a bit more, I decided to leave because "My friends are probably looking for me" which actually ended up being true. Sal was a little dissapointed because he found me "interesting and intriguing." That's cool. Of course the first thing I did when I got home that night was try to facebook stalk him, but I could not find him on facebook. I began to wonder if I had been given a fake name (it didn't really cross my mind that he might actually not have a facebook). To clear up the confusion, I asked a friend in the bagpipe band if he knew him. He said he did and I asked what his deal was. His response: "He's kind of a freak...sexually. I've heard stories." So I hooked up with a sexual freak. I sure know how to pick 'em. Is it really so much to ask for a guy who is fairly normal, not creepy, has a facebook, and wants to just openly date and not have a relationship? I guess the facebook part isn't really necessary. But he can't have a myspace.
I got my hair colored today. I debated for a long time about dying it blonde. I asked people's opinions and gave myself blonde hair in paint. I finally decided to just go for it. Unfortunately, the woman who does my hair said no. She gave some very convincing reasons and she's probably very wise, but one day, when I have time and money for the maintenace, I will be blonde. For now, I will be brunette with a hint of red.
The Mod Quad Halloween dance is coming up. I have a costume (a vampirate--a cross between a vampire and a pirate) but no date. So, if you meet some or all of the requirements for a boy described above, facebook me or something. Geez, that's desperate. I've been stalking this guy on facebook lately. He seems like a decent person and I talked to him once, so maybe I'll have Kelly hook me up SYR style. 'Cause that's not creepy at all.
My last little tidbit is that Metzger and I went to see Employee of the Month and Dane Cook is gorgeous in that rugged sexy way. Who knew?
My first story takes place in the men's dorm Sorin. There was a party in the quint with the theme of "I'm in love with a stripper" or more specifically the Duke lacrosse team. You can imagine the classy crowd this attracted. I went in my usual going out gear, but it appeared as if some of the other girls had forgotten to put on any gear at all, like pants. Yep, some girls came in just their lingerie (and none of them were Asian Chick). These girls were of course the ones who chose to stand in the windows above the crowd and dance for all to see. The best part of the night was probably when Journey's "Dont' Stop Believing" came on and the window strippers didn't know how to dance to such a slow song, but they didn't want to give up the coveted window display spot, so they just sort of akwardly swayed, hoping everyone would still be looking at them. Anyone, the nearly nude girls in the window is not what this story is about. I was dancing, as one might do at a party, when a fairly attractive young man joined me. During the whole akward getting to know you while permiscuously grinding against you, I found out this guy's name (Sal), his major (don't remember), his hometown (who cares?), and what he does for outside of classes (bagpipes...). As soon as he found out that I box, he made his move with a gem of a pick up line "Have you ever played Fight Night for Xbox? Because I have it in my room. We could go play it...in my room...." Why I didn't jump him right then and there is hard to say, but I brushed him off for a while. He was persistent and for a second I actually believed that he really did just want to play video games. It was in that second that he grabbed my hand and led me out of the party and to his room. Don't worry, he was a gentleman about it and as we were leaving said "You sure your friends won't think your a whore if you leave with me now?" Nope, my friends will probably just think you slipped me a roofie. Once we got to his room, he made me take my shoes off before entering. A little strange, but ok. The carpet was immaculate. He puts on what may have been Justin Timberlake's new CD and says "Let's dance some more before we play the game." To my horror, in the midst of dancing, he turns his back to me, bends down to touch the ground, and snaps up. That's right, he did a bend and snap. And he was completely serious. Looking back, I should have made my exit then. Actually, I should have made my exit at the Justin Timberlake CD. Actually, I should have never entered, but then I wouldn't have such a fantastic story. After the bend and snap, Sal figured I was wooed enough by his smoothness and moved in for the kiss. This wasn't just any kiss. This was the craziest freakin' kiss of my life. Not crazy good like fireworks and head spinning. Crazy like he flicked his tongue up and down really fast before actually kissing me. This is why I will refer to him as Salamander from now on. After trying to tolerate this for a bit more, I decided to leave because "My friends are probably looking for me" which actually ended up being true. Sal was a little dissapointed because he found me "interesting and intriguing." That's cool. Of course the first thing I did when I got home that night was try to facebook stalk him, but I could not find him on facebook. I began to wonder if I had been given a fake name (it didn't really cross my mind that he might actually not have a facebook). To clear up the confusion, I asked a friend in the bagpipe band if he knew him. He said he did and I asked what his deal was. His response: "He's kind of a freak...sexually. I've heard stories." So I hooked up with a sexual freak. I sure know how to pick 'em. Is it really so much to ask for a guy who is fairly normal, not creepy, has a facebook, and wants to just openly date and not have a relationship? I guess the facebook part isn't really necessary. But he can't have a myspace.
I got my hair colored today. I debated for a long time about dying it blonde. I asked people's opinions and gave myself blonde hair in paint. I finally decided to just go for it. Unfortunately, the woman who does my hair said no. She gave some very convincing reasons and she's probably very wise, but one day, when I have time and money for the maintenace, I will be blonde. For now, I will be brunette with a hint of red.
The Mod Quad Halloween dance is coming up. I have a costume (a vampirate--a cross between a vampire and a pirate) but no date. So, if you meet some or all of the requirements for a boy described above, facebook me or something. Geez, that's desperate. I've been stalking this guy on facebook lately. He seems like a decent person and I talked to him once, so maybe I'll have Kelly hook me up SYR style. 'Cause that's not creepy at all.
My last little tidbit is that Metzger and I went to see Employee of the Month and Dane Cook is gorgeous in that rugged sexy way. Who knew?
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Soph-O
Metzger has been begging me for a new blog, and since I fear I have lost all other readership, I must answer her pleas
Sophomore year started with quite a flurry of events. I arrived at school and was thrown into the non-stop activities of Frosh-O. I have never lifted so many things in my life or had so much dorm spirit, but it was all good fun and Frosh-O is way better the second time around. I gave an especially warm welcome to the girls who came from Ohio because I felt a sort of bond with them, being from the drive through state and all. However, one girl was waaaay too Ohio for my liking. She popped out of the car with an OSU shirt on and a Brutus Buckeye plush. After the fiesta bowl disaster of last January, this was quite an offense. We told her to leave Brutus behind and run to the bookstore to pick up a leprauchaun, but she refused as the buckeye plush had been given to her by an ex boyfriend. EX boyfriend? If he's an ex, leave him and his school memorabilia in Ohio! But then she gave us some buckeyes and all was well.
After Frosh-O ended and I had to stop bossing around the freshmen (it feels weird treating them like equals instead of campers), school got underway. Boring business classes abound, but I do have an awesome history of television class and an Italian class. I'm sticking with the business so I have a job, and because I like saying businasty.
In case you were questioning certain facebook changes or you haven't already heard, Dan and I broke up after getting back to school. I could write down some Kelly Clarkson lyrics or go on a feminist rant, but I feel like the whole situation can be summed up by saying that I'm heartbroken for the first time in my life, it sucks, and its completely unfair. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened between the last phone call over the summer and the return to school and I don't want to talk about it here. Athankyou. (Coping devices such as ice cream, hugs, or voodoo dolls would be greatly appreciated)
But this only means I'm single, and goodness knows what exciting blogalicious adventures that might bring. Why in fact, just the other night I was at a party (the type where I pack myself into a smelly dorm room and shout at the top of my lungs so my refusal of beer offers can be heard). The location was Alumni and a dear old friend (more like some guy I met last year who I call up when I want something to do because he always has something going on) was throwing a party in his room. After standing there for a while complaining to the other girls about how lame this party was (nevermind how lame we were for actually going to it), someone asked me to dance. Or rather, he asked me a series of indirect questions as I gave the most vague answers imaginable. Now, I don't like saying no to people, at least not directly, because then I feel like a bad person. I know that perhaps vague answers may just lead them on and hurt them more in the end, but the point is I don't feel like a jerk and that's what's important. Anywho, this guy comes up to me and says, "Do you like dancing?" I vaguely respond "Sometimes" He says "Well what kind of dancing do you like?" I say, "Oh, I don't know, most kinds." Dude: "Do you enjoy dancing?" Me: "I don't know I'm not very good." Pursuer "Oh come on, I'm sure you're a great dancer." The pursued "No, I'm not that great at dancing." Reluctant Randy "Don't you ever dance?" Vague Vixen "Yeah I dance, but just when no ones watching." Guy: "Well would you dance with me" Me, giving in "ummmmm.....ummmmm.....ok" Let the akward bump and grind begin. I didn't even last an entire song before I said that I had to meet my friends somewhere. That somewhere ended up being 2 feet away in the corner of the room. A simple "no thanks" may be a better option next time.
Caitlin said I looked like a terrorist one night because I had my hair pulled back and I looked "exotic and dangerous". Yeah, I'm running low on blog material.
Football season has started again and its magnificent. I mean, did anyone else see that Michigan State game? Simply amazing! Anyway, for the other Michigan game (grrrr) 9 other girls and myself painted ourselves green. I never realized how much fun being green could be since Kermit gave it such a bad rap, but it was awesome. People kept stopping us to take our picture and to pose with us. I finally accomplished my dream of experiencing what it feels like to be one of the Disney World characters. However, being painted green is obviously bad luck and we can never do it again. One of the people who stopped us, though, was this young fellow with his grandfather. He said that his grandfather played football for Notre Dame in the 50s and we were so awed and amazed that we took several pictures with him. Once we walked about, I realized that the young fellow could have totally been making that up. He could have nabbed some random guy from an alziemers home and brought him to the game so he could claim that he was a football player and get an in with the cute green college girls. What a sicko. What a great idea. I'm totally doing that one day.
I'm sick again. This is probably just one of the many colds I will get throughout the year. I have no idea why my immune system seems to hate me. I take care of myself better than most college students, yet I can't seem to get over a simple cold. I've had my current cold for 2 weeks now and it's showing no signs of relief. I've begun joking with people that I have TB, which is what I did last year, and I am always surprised at the number of people who actually believe me. This is probably going to get me in the end and I actually will have consumption and no one will believe me until I'm coughing up blood and then it's too late. Was that too graphic? Sorry, I've been watching lots of Nip/Tuck episodes and have become immune to the gore.
NDTV is off to a great start this year. Since all the dorms have cable now, not only can I watch Flavor of Love whenever I want, but all the students have access to NDTV (channel 53)! Or more realistically, students pause on NDTV for 3 seconds while flipping channels, but hey, they know we're out there. The club is really growing and I'm learning how to edit, so a lot of my time is going into NDTV. Also, a lot of my humor is going into that, so you should really tune into NDTV instead of reading this because the show is probably a lot funnier. Or is it.....
I saw Asian Chick at the dining hall!!!!! I noticed that she had writing on her shirt, but I unfortunately was not able to catch a glimpse of it as I have terrible eyesight and refuse to wear contacts or glasses. Sorry, that was really anticlimactic, but you were excited for a second, weren't you?
Sophomore year started with quite a flurry of events. I arrived at school and was thrown into the non-stop activities of Frosh-O. I have never lifted so many things in my life or had so much dorm spirit, but it was all good fun and Frosh-O is way better the second time around. I gave an especially warm welcome to the girls who came from Ohio because I felt a sort of bond with them, being from the drive through state and all. However, one girl was waaaay too Ohio for my liking. She popped out of the car with an OSU shirt on and a Brutus Buckeye plush. After the fiesta bowl disaster of last January, this was quite an offense. We told her to leave Brutus behind and run to the bookstore to pick up a leprauchaun, but she refused as the buckeye plush had been given to her by an ex boyfriend. EX boyfriend? If he's an ex, leave him and his school memorabilia in Ohio! But then she gave us some buckeyes and all was well.
After Frosh-O ended and I had to stop bossing around the freshmen (it feels weird treating them like equals instead of campers), school got underway. Boring business classes abound, but I do have an awesome history of television class and an Italian class. I'm sticking with the business so I have a job, and because I like saying businasty.
In case you were questioning certain facebook changes or you haven't already heard, Dan and I broke up after getting back to school. I could write down some Kelly Clarkson lyrics or go on a feminist rant, but I feel like the whole situation can be summed up by saying that I'm heartbroken for the first time in my life, it sucks, and its completely unfair. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened between the last phone call over the summer and the return to school and I don't want to talk about it here. Athankyou. (Coping devices such as ice cream, hugs, or voodoo dolls would be greatly appreciated)
But this only means I'm single, and goodness knows what exciting blogalicious adventures that might bring. Why in fact, just the other night I was at a party (the type where I pack myself into a smelly dorm room and shout at the top of my lungs so my refusal of beer offers can be heard). The location was Alumni and a dear old friend (more like some guy I met last year who I call up when I want something to do because he always has something going on) was throwing a party in his room. After standing there for a while complaining to the other girls about how lame this party was (nevermind how lame we were for actually going to it), someone asked me to dance. Or rather, he asked me a series of indirect questions as I gave the most vague answers imaginable. Now, I don't like saying no to people, at least not directly, because then I feel like a bad person. I know that perhaps vague answers may just lead them on and hurt them more in the end, but the point is I don't feel like a jerk and that's what's important. Anywho, this guy comes up to me and says, "Do you like dancing?" I vaguely respond "Sometimes" He says "Well what kind of dancing do you like?" I say, "Oh, I don't know, most kinds." Dude: "Do you enjoy dancing?" Me: "I don't know I'm not very good." Pursuer "Oh come on, I'm sure you're a great dancer." The pursued "No, I'm not that great at dancing." Reluctant Randy "Don't you ever dance?" Vague Vixen "Yeah I dance, but just when no ones watching." Guy: "Well would you dance with me" Me, giving in "ummmmm.....ummmmm.....ok" Let the akward bump and grind begin. I didn't even last an entire song before I said that I had to meet my friends somewhere. That somewhere ended up being 2 feet away in the corner of the room. A simple "no thanks" may be a better option next time.
Caitlin said I looked like a terrorist one night because I had my hair pulled back and I looked "exotic and dangerous". Yeah, I'm running low on blog material.
Football season has started again and its magnificent. I mean, did anyone else see that Michigan State game? Simply amazing! Anyway, for the other Michigan game (grrrr) 9 other girls and myself painted ourselves green. I never realized how much fun being green could be since Kermit gave it such a bad rap, but it was awesome. People kept stopping us to take our picture and to pose with us. I finally accomplished my dream of experiencing what it feels like to be one of the Disney World characters. However, being painted green is obviously bad luck and we can never do it again. One of the people who stopped us, though, was this young fellow with his grandfather. He said that his grandfather played football for Notre Dame in the 50s and we were so awed and amazed that we took several pictures with him. Once we walked about, I realized that the young fellow could have totally been making that up. He could have nabbed some random guy from an alziemers home and brought him to the game so he could claim that he was a football player and get an in with the cute green college girls. What a sicko. What a great idea. I'm totally doing that one day.
I'm sick again. This is probably just one of the many colds I will get throughout the year. I have no idea why my immune system seems to hate me. I take care of myself better than most college students, yet I can't seem to get over a simple cold. I've had my current cold for 2 weeks now and it's showing no signs of relief. I've begun joking with people that I have TB, which is what I did last year, and I am always surprised at the number of people who actually believe me. This is probably going to get me in the end and I actually will have consumption and no one will believe me until I'm coughing up blood and then it's too late. Was that too graphic? Sorry, I've been watching lots of Nip/Tuck episodes and have become immune to the gore.
NDTV is off to a great start this year. Since all the dorms have cable now, not only can I watch Flavor of Love whenever I want, but all the students have access to NDTV (channel 53)! Or more realistically, students pause on NDTV for 3 seconds while flipping channels, but hey, they know we're out there. The club is really growing and I'm learning how to edit, so a lot of my time is going into NDTV. Also, a lot of my humor is going into that, so you should really tune into NDTV instead of reading this because the show is probably a lot funnier. Or is it.....
I saw Asian Chick at the dining hall!!!!! I noticed that she had writing on her shirt, but I unfortunately was not able to catch a glimpse of it as I have terrible eyesight and refuse to wear contacts or glasses. Sorry, that was really anticlimactic, but you were excited for a second, weren't you?
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Escaped From the Nut House, but Still Pretty Crazy
Twelve more days until I'm back at my home under the dome! I've waited all summer to go back, so of course, upon realization of this dream, I finally find things to appreciate around here. Don't get me wrong, I'm not wishing that summer could be extended and I could spend another month in Stow, but I'm thinking that I should have appreciated it more. I get to sleep in a huge bed in a room all to myself. I get to lay out in the sun on a lovely deck in my backyard. I don't have to go to class. However nice these comforts are, though, I suppose I have had my fill of them. I miss my friends and what is the comfort of a bed when compared to the comfort of friends? Unfortunately, there are some things that I wanted to do this summer like go to Cleveland or take a bike ride with my dad, but I guess summer isn't complete without incomplete goals. I guess what really got me thinking about missed opportunities this summer was a fantastic evening spent with Metzger and Colleen. Actually, it was more like 12 hours straight with Metzger. It was probably the best night I've had this summer. It was one of those times that I just came away honestly thinking "I had fun!" instead of trying to convince myself that these people could replace my other friends. It's too bad that the three of us hadn't spent more time together this summer, but I'm going to blame that mostly on Colleen's lack of a driver's license and her living in Wadsworth.
Wow, that was a bunch of rambling nonsence. So I went to Boston a few weeks ago. It was a nice family trip. Saw the aquarium, ate in Little Italy, went to same quaint New England towns, got lost for 2 hours on the stupid Massachusettes roads (rotaries are the devil). The highlight of the trip for me was when a homeless guy called me a super model. He just wanted my money, but it still made me feel all warm and fuzzy. When I was out with Metzger and Colleen, a few of Wadstucky's finest men (meaning icky) looked the three of us over and said "You girls tell your boyfriends they are lucky guys." I am just getting the best compliments from the best people lately. Next thing you know, a truck driver is going to tell me I should be in them moving picture shows.
Metzger just left my house, actually, and is headed to a dairy farm in Idaho for an internship (she wants to be a vet). She will have no internet so she probably will not read this before she leaves, but in case she does, good luck and have fun with the cows, Metz! She's crazy.
Today was my last day at Coconuts. Wait, let me repeat that in a more appropriate manner. I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No more annoying people talking about stupid music! No more having to make stuff up on the spot just to appease the customer's appetite for musical knowledge! No more Bob smelling like Fritos and cigarettes! I hate customer service! I'm probably going back over Christmas break...
This is probably my last post from Stow, unless something crazy happens and I just have to post it here so that Tomas and Metzger will get around to reading it in a couple weeks. Look for Boston pictures to show up on the photo bucket. I'm preparing for a week of drawn out good byes, complete with a family pontoon boat ride. And in case my Mom decides to read this (in a bold move of stupidity, I gave her the web address) I will miss home, and not just for its comforts, but for my family. And don't worry, Mom, I'll call you and email you just like last year. Though I can't promise that I'll call you every single time I drive and arrive at my destination safely. That's just little much. So long from Stow, everone.
Wow, that was a bunch of rambling nonsence. So I went to Boston a few weeks ago. It was a nice family trip. Saw the aquarium, ate in Little Italy, went to same quaint New England towns, got lost for 2 hours on the stupid Massachusettes roads (rotaries are the devil). The highlight of the trip for me was when a homeless guy called me a super model. He just wanted my money, but it still made me feel all warm and fuzzy. When I was out with Metzger and Colleen, a few of Wadstucky's finest men (meaning icky) looked the three of us over and said "You girls tell your boyfriends they are lucky guys." I am just getting the best compliments from the best people lately. Next thing you know, a truck driver is going to tell me I should be in them moving picture shows.
Metzger just left my house, actually, and is headed to a dairy farm in Idaho for an internship (she wants to be a vet). She will have no internet so she probably will not read this before she leaves, but in case she does, good luck and have fun with the cows, Metz! She's crazy.
Today was my last day at Coconuts. Wait, let me repeat that in a more appropriate manner. I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No more annoying people talking about stupid music! No more having to make stuff up on the spot just to appease the customer's appetite for musical knowledge! No more Bob smelling like Fritos and cigarettes! I hate customer service! I'm probably going back over Christmas break...
This is probably my last post from Stow, unless something crazy happens and I just have to post it here so that Tomas and Metzger will get around to reading it in a couple weeks. Look for Boston pictures to show up on the photo bucket. I'm preparing for a week of drawn out good byes, complete with a family pontoon boat ride. And in case my Mom decides to read this (in a bold move of stupidity, I gave her the web address) I will miss home, and not just for its comforts, but for my family. And don't worry, Mom, I'll call you and email you just like last year. Though I can't promise that I'll call you every single time I drive and arrive at my destination safely. That's just little much. So long from Stow, everone.
Friday, July 14, 2006
I Suck at Being Emo
My original plan for tonight was not to write a blog but to paint my nails black and be really emo and write emo things after watching a pretty emo movie. This is what the boredom of Ohio has led me to. Well, I watched the movie Thumbsucker. Not as good as I had hoped, but it was alright. I went to paint my nails black but only had dark brown nail polish, so now it looks like I dipped my fingers in chocolate cake batter. Since my nails are still drying, it's hard to write things with paper and pen so I thought I'd type up a new blog entry. Yay for Friday night.
I spent my Fourth of July working at the nut hut, but it was probably one of the most fun 4th of a month I've had in a while. I rode my bike to work two hours early (don't judge too quickly, I'm about to explain why I went to work so early without clocking in). The Stow parade starts off from the parking lot of the plaza where Coconuts is and it starts at 10. The store opened at noon that day, hence my arriving early. Lindsey, my then manager (she has since resigned), and I sat in the air conditioned window of our little CD store and watched the parade go by. It was one of my favorite viewings of the parade, simply because I felt so brave behind my glass window. So brave, in fact, that I blew a kiss to my favorite superhero--Batman--who caught it and seemed very flattered. Move over Robin. Batman wants me. Once we finally opened the store (we decided to unlock the doors around 12:15), we commenced the best day of work ever. I went to Big Lots to pick up some junk food and Lindsey brought the board games TriBond and The 90s Game. That was my day. We somehow managed to sell over plan, but this is no credit of our own. Once I got home, I continued the board game playing frenzie with my parents and Pop Culture Trivial pursuit. Then my family morphed into rednecks and my brother shot illegal fireworks off in the front yard while all the neighbor kids gathered in amazement.
Nothing too notable has happened since then. Just chilling at home and working at the nut. I suppose I do have another nut story. It was 15 minutes to close and my manager was in the back doing end of the day stuff, leaving me the only one in the actual store. So of course, there's a line of 4 people when we haven't had customers all day. I'm trying to ring them up as quickly as possible when the phone rings. I answer it and this guy says, "Hey I'm looking for a Dave Matthews Band CD" and I respond, "Sure I can find that, but I'll be with you in just a moment." I finish up the transaction I was in the middle of when the customer called and pick up the phone again. "I'm sorry about that, are you still there?" I politely ask. "Yeah, but I really didn't think it would take that long" Jerky McJerkerson retorts. "I'm sorry sir but I was in the middle of a transaction. Now what album were you looking for?" I say, trying to remain calm. "You know what? Forget it, it doesn't even matter," says the angry man. I tried convincing the man to stay on the phone and reassuring him that I could help him with whatever he was looking for, but he remained angry and unwilling to be helped. Just as I was about to say goodbye and hang up, the guy on the phone says, "Haha just kidding this is Dan!" Let us pause for a moment. Dan makes a long distance call to a Coconuts store in Ohio simply to trick me into thinking I was getting harassed by a mean customer. Oh, he's good. You can imagine my shock. I pause on the phone for a moment then proceed to call him a jerk and some other choice words then laugh and say "hold on." I put down the phone and go to help the customer I somehow did not notice and he timidly says "I was going to have you look up some CDs, but if you're busy, that's ok, I can just leave." I scared a customer. Yessssssssss. Thank you Dan. By the way, I explained to the customer that I had been tricked by a friend and proceeded to help him with his CDs so don't worry.
Ugh, this is awful. My blogs are turning into lame work stories. I need to get out of the torment that is retail!!! It's only making me hate people and I was already cynical so there's no way I can come out of this alright. Oh well. One month left and in a week I head to Boston! Until next time, my faithful readers.
I spent my Fourth of July working at the nut hut, but it was probably one of the most fun 4th of a month I've had in a while. I rode my bike to work two hours early (don't judge too quickly, I'm about to explain why I went to work so early without clocking in). The Stow parade starts off from the parking lot of the plaza where Coconuts is and it starts at 10. The store opened at noon that day, hence my arriving early. Lindsey, my then manager (she has since resigned), and I sat in the air conditioned window of our little CD store and watched the parade go by. It was one of my favorite viewings of the parade, simply because I felt so brave behind my glass window. So brave, in fact, that I blew a kiss to my favorite superhero--Batman--who caught it and seemed very flattered. Move over Robin. Batman wants me. Once we finally opened the store (we decided to unlock the doors around 12:15), we commenced the best day of work ever. I went to Big Lots to pick up some junk food and Lindsey brought the board games TriBond and The 90s Game. That was my day. We somehow managed to sell over plan, but this is no credit of our own. Once I got home, I continued the board game playing frenzie with my parents and Pop Culture Trivial pursuit. Then my family morphed into rednecks and my brother shot illegal fireworks off in the front yard while all the neighbor kids gathered in amazement.
Nothing too notable has happened since then. Just chilling at home and working at the nut. I suppose I do have another nut story. It was 15 minutes to close and my manager was in the back doing end of the day stuff, leaving me the only one in the actual store. So of course, there's a line of 4 people when we haven't had customers all day. I'm trying to ring them up as quickly as possible when the phone rings. I answer it and this guy says, "Hey I'm looking for a Dave Matthews Band CD" and I respond, "Sure I can find that, but I'll be with you in just a moment." I finish up the transaction I was in the middle of when the customer called and pick up the phone again. "I'm sorry about that, are you still there?" I politely ask. "Yeah, but I really didn't think it would take that long" Jerky McJerkerson retorts. "I'm sorry sir but I was in the middle of a transaction. Now what album were you looking for?" I say, trying to remain calm. "You know what? Forget it, it doesn't even matter," says the angry man. I tried convincing the man to stay on the phone and reassuring him that I could help him with whatever he was looking for, but he remained angry and unwilling to be helped. Just as I was about to say goodbye and hang up, the guy on the phone says, "Haha just kidding this is Dan!" Let us pause for a moment. Dan makes a long distance call to a Coconuts store in Ohio simply to trick me into thinking I was getting harassed by a mean customer. Oh, he's good. You can imagine my shock. I pause on the phone for a moment then proceed to call him a jerk and some other choice words then laugh and say "hold on." I put down the phone and go to help the customer I somehow did not notice and he timidly says "I was going to have you look up some CDs, but if you're busy, that's ok, I can just leave." I scared a customer. Yessssssssss. Thank you Dan. By the way, I explained to the customer that I had been tricked by a friend and proceeded to help him with his CDs so don't worry.
Ugh, this is awful. My blogs are turning into lame work stories. I need to get out of the torment that is retail!!! It's only making me hate people and I was already cynical so there's no way I can come out of this alright. Oh well. One month left and in a week I head to Boston! Until next time, my faithful readers.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
I Heart NY
Ok so I lied about posting the next day about New York. I'm dreadfully sorry. I hope I haven't betrayed your trust too much. Just to make up for it, this will be the first post complete with pictures. On with the show...
I left from Akron Canton airport and arrived in LaGuardia airport on June 19th. This was the first time I had ever traveled by myself, and I'll admit that I was a little nervous, but I found that if I just wear mascara and smile enough, people will help me with anything. Yay for being a girl. It was odd going between the Akron airport and the NYC one because they are so entirely different. While going through security at Akron, I forgot my ID at the beginning of security and didn't realize until I was already through. I asked the security guard if I could grab it, sure he would say no to me running back through security, but he simply shrugged and said "go ahead." At LaGuardia, there was a woman in security who stood there for the sole purpose of simply yelling constantly to have IDs ready and no sharp objects in carry ons. She was scary.
After my flight landed, stage one of nervousness was gone. Then stage two began: meeting the family. I had already met Dan's father and sister, but I had yet to meet the mother. It wasn't that I was nervous to meet Dan's mother in particular, I'm just nervous about meeting any boy's mother because they tend to be protective. At least that's what I'm assuming about most mothers. Mine isn't too worried about Alex yet. Anyway, stage two of nervousness melted quickly, as I walked in the door of the Canders' household and received an instant hug from Mrs. Canders. The whole Canders family is probably one of the all around nicest families I have met. I mean, in most families, you expect at least one bad apple to spoil the whole bunch, but this was not the case. Ok, I'm done talking about the Canders family, but I will say one more thing: Mrs. Canders kind of went crazy with getting new sheets and a blanket for the guest bed, but that was the most amazingly soft blanket in the world. I do believe it was woven from angel hair.
So here's the rundown of activities (and finally some of those promised pictures). On Monday, we went to Port Jefferson and ate ice cream. On Tuesday, we went into New York City (add me smiling really big and jumping up and down). The city was amazing--we saw a show (Avenue Q), ate dinner at Jekyl and Hydes (scary Disney crammed into a restaurant), went to Central Park, and a bunch of other stuff. Dan insisted on holding my hand the whole time. Now I know what you're thinking "Stop being so cutesy, I want to vomit, ewww hand holding big deal." This wasn't the romantic type of hand holding. It was more like Dan screaming "HOLD MY HAND!" for fear of losing me and having to answer to my mother, who had talked to him before I left, making sure he'd protect me in the city (apparently I'm a paralyzed 5 year old). Just to let you know, he didn't lose me once, but my hand was really sweaty and gross.
This may look similar to the last one, but trust me, it is not. This one was taken by a professional, or at least a man who really wanted to be one. We asked a man in the park to take our picture. Without a word, he took the camera and began to line up the shot, a process that took several minutes and several different positions. So here's the result of all that.
Then after a wonderful four days (and I do mean wonderful--allow me to gush a moment and say that I had an amazing time with Dan) I had to leave.
I left from Akron Canton airport and arrived in LaGuardia airport on June 19th. This was the first time I had ever traveled by myself, and I'll admit that I was a little nervous, but I found that if I just wear mascara and smile enough, people will help me with anything. Yay for being a girl. It was odd going between the Akron airport and the NYC one because they are so entirely different. While going through security at Akron, I forgot my ID at the beginning of security and didn't realize until I was already through. I asked the security guard if I could grab it, sure he would say no to me running back through security, but he simply shrugged and said "go ahead." At LaGuardia, there was a woman in security who stood there for the sole purpose of simply yelling constantly to have IDs ready and no sharp objects in carry ons. She was scary.
After my flight landed, stage one of nervousness was gone. Then stage two began: meeting the family. I had already met Dan's father and sister, but I had yet to meet the mother. It wasn't that I was nervous to meet Dan's mother in particular, I'm just nervous about meeting any boy's mother because they tend to be protective. At least that's what I'm assuming about most mothers. Mine isn't too worried about Alex yet. Anyway, stage two of nervousness melted quickly, as I walked in the door of the Canders' household and received an instant hug from Mrs. Canders. The whole Canders family is probably one of the all around nicest families I have met. I mean, in most families, you expect at least one bad apple to spoil the whole bunch, but this was not the case. Ok, I'm done talking about the Canders family, but I will say one more thing: Mrs. Canders kind of went crazy with getting new sheets and a blanket for the guest bed, but that was the most amazingly soft blanket in the world. I do believe it was woven from angel hair.
So here's the rundown of activities (and finally some of those promised pictures). On Monday, we went to Port Jefferson and ate ice cream. On Tuesday, we went into New York City (add me smiling really big and jumping up and down). The city was amazing--we saw a show (Avenue Q), ate dinner at Jekyl and Hydes (scary Disney crammed into a restaurant), went to Central Park, and a bunch of other stuff. Dan insisted on holding my hand the whole time. Now I know what you're thinking "Stop being so cutesy, I want to vomit, ewww hand holding big deal." This wasn't the romantic type of hand holding. It was more like Dan screaming "HOLD MY HAND!" for fear of losing me and having to answer to my mother, who had talked to him before I left, making sure he'd protect me in the city (apparently I'm a paralyzed 5 year old). Just to let you know, he didn't lose me once, but my hand was really sweaty and gross.
This is probably my favorite picture ever, not that you care, but ya know, just thought I'd share.
This may look similar to the last one, but trust me, it is not. This one was taken by a professional, or at least a man who really wanted to be one. We asked a man in the park to take our picture. Without a word, he took the camera and began to line up the shot, a process that took several minutes and several different positions. So here's the result of all that.
Dan insisted I take a picture with one of the guys outside of FAO Schwartz, but I agreed to it only if he would let me take a picture of him doing the same. He agreed to the terms, but went back on his word when he took this picture and ran away.
By the way, some random guy in the city called Dan a pimp daddy. Just thought I'd share.
On Wednesday, we went to Dan's dad's airforce base. I got to check out a helicopter and a plane. They were big and had lots of buttons. This is why I will never have a career involving machines. But the base really was super cool. As we drove up to it, the big electronic sign in front said "Welcome E. Yahner." That's right. Be jealous. 
That's the inside of a plane.
That's the outside of a helicopter.
After the base, we went to the beach. It was the perfect beach day ever and probably my favorite thing we did. I kept trying to get Dan to throw his cell phone in the ocean every time it rang, kind of like the Coronas commercials, but he refuse and we had no Coronas, so I guess it would be kind of stupid because it's not like we'd have an excuse like "Hey, we were drunk so we threw the cell phone into the ocean!" Yeah, I guess that only works if you actually have a Corona.
That night I met all his friends, who were all very friendly, but seemed to think Ohio was all farm country and much farther away than it actually is. Just to let you all know, I live near no major farms. Ohio is just constructed differently than New York. Ohio has a lot of cities scattered around the state with rural areas in between. New York has one ginormous city, but what is in upstate New York? Seriously, does anyone care about the rest of New York? I thought not. Respect the big OH. Anyway, the best part of the night was that RUPA JOSE came over to Dan's house! As if seeing Dan wasn't enough, I got to see my favorite little soul searcher. It was kind of strange, seeing her outside of the Notre Dame setting, but it was so awesome to get to see her and it just reminded me of how much I miss my Notre Dame.
Thursday was a sad day because it was the day I left. Dan and I went to a little town near his house and just sort of hung out. There was a trail and we found this statue.
Then after a wonderful four days (and I do mean wonderful--allow me to gush a moment and say that I had an amazing time with Dan) I had to leave.
That's me and Dan in front of his house with my bags right before I left.
Getting to the airport was a little hectic because traffic was so bad and I got there at 6:15 when my flight left at 6:55, so it was a rather rushed good bye at the airport, though that ended up being unnecessary since my flight got delayed. However, once I was on the plane, the one thing I had hoped to avoid while flying occured. Babies. I had to sit next to babies. Fifteen month old twins, in fact. One sat in front of me while the other sat to my left. I tried to read a book, but the one on my side kept turning the pages, and every time I looked up, the one in front of me was peering over the seat, threatening to drool on the novel. We got ginger snaps during the flight and as I went to take a bite, the baby snatched it out of my hand for itself. Babies are cute, but when they're not yours and you're in the air with no sign of escape, they are slightly unbearable. Fortunately, these babies were not criers until we started to land, and they were cute, so that made it a little more bearable. Anyway, I landed safely and went home.
So that is my New York story. I visited Dan, even got to see Rupa, and had a wonderful time. Now I'm just left with missing ND far too much, but that's nothing a phone call and looking at some pictures can't remedy. At least for a moment. Until August, I'll be in a Notre Dame state of mind.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Welcome to the Nut House
I thought that since I would have so much more time on my hands this summer, I would blog a lot more. This is not so. It seems thatin my lack of things to do, I have become lazier. I see that there is nothing to do, so I do nothing. I guess that's what summer is really about, though. That and acquiring some pimp status for the upcoming school year (pimp status=money). The way I go about getting my pimp status is, as you have read in my last post, by working at Coconuts, the entertainment store.
There are three managers that I work with. Jen is the head manager and she's pretty cool. Lindsy is a 5th year Kent State student and does not care about the store or selling CDs at all, which makes her the best manager ever. Unfortunately she is quitting in a few weeks. Bob is old and smelly due to his constant consumption of cigarettes, Fritos, and Mountain Dew Code Red. Though he is my least favorite of the three managers to work with, he is definitely the most interesting. He thinks he knows everything about music, when really, he's just an old stoner who believes that Laurie Anderson is one of the great artists of our time and that the people of Stow will enjoy hearing her play her cassette tape strung violin over our stereo system. Bob has called me a fetus on several occasions, in reference to my taste in music. He has a girlfriend whom he calls his "pooky la la" which I can only assume is due to the fact that she is imaginary, as I do not see anyone finding Bob desirable.
But enough about the staff, let's talk about the customers! My favorite frequenter of Coconuts is Myron. He comes in several times a week simply to talk. He never buys anything, though he does look for movies but once he finds them, always says they are too expensive. He recently got fired from Flynn's tires (Hoban folk, let's pause for a giggle at the irony) and now works at Speedy doing car maintenance. His parting words are always about what he is going to eat, which is usually a steak, though sometimes it is two giant buckets of everything from KFC. My favorite Myron moment is when he pulled up outside the store and honked his horn until Jen and I opened the door, after which he took a picture of us with his camera phone and drove away. You might think that Myron would get annoying, but actually, he annoys other customers more than he annoys the staff. One woman came in and bought a movie and Myron followed her out asking her if he could watch the movie with her. The woman left looking frightened and probably reaching for her pepper spray, but once she had gone, Myron said, "That lady is probably a hooker." She was dressed like a soccer mom and drove a VW. Definitely not a hooker.
While Coconuts may seem like a glamorous job with enough characters to start a prime time sitcom, in actuality, it sucks. I guess sucks is a strong word, but it is definitely not the most enjoyable thing in the world given it's boring, dingy atmosphere and near minimum wage. But hey, it keeps me busy this summer and it earns me that coveted pimp status.
Since I haven't blogged in a while, I have so much to catch you up on. I actually just got back from a four day trip to visit Dan on Long Island. It was by far one of the best times I have ever had, but it only left me missing Dan more and wishing I was back at my home under the dome. But I feel that Coconuts craziness and my New York excursion are too much to put into one post so I will probably have a New York post in by tomorrow, just so I can split it up for you. I don't want your eyes to get tired. See, I'm just that nice. Always thinking of you.
There are three managers that I work with. Jen is the head manager and she's pretty cool. Lindsy is a 5th year Kent State student and does not care about the store or selling CDs at all, which makes her the best manager ever. Unfortunately she is quitting in a few weeks. Bob is old and smelly due to his constant consumption of cigarettes, Fritos, and Mountain Dew Code Red. Though he is my least favorite of the three managers to work with, he is definitely the most interesting. He thinks he knows everything about music, when really, he's just an old stoner who believes that Laurie Anderson is one of the great artists of our time and that the people of Stow will enjoy hearing her play her cassette tape strung violin over our stereo system. Bob has called me a fetus on several occasions, in reference to my taste in music. He has a girlfriend whom he calls his "pooky la la" which I can only assume is due to the fact that she is imaginary, as I do not see anyone finding Bob desirable.
But enough about the staff, let's talk about the customers! My favorite frequenter of Coconuts is Myron. He comes in several times a week simply to talk. He never buys anything, though he does look for movies but once he finds them, always says they are too expensive. He recently got fired from Flynn's tires (Hoban folk, let's pause for a giggle at the irony) and now works at Speedy doing car maintenance. His parting words are always about what he is going to eat, which is usually a steak, though sometimes it is two giant buckets of everything from KFC. My favorite Myron moment is when he pulled up outside the store and honked his horn until Jen and I opened the door, after which he took a picture of us with his camera phone and drove away. You might think that Myron would get annoying, but actually, he annoys other customers more than he annoys the staff. One woman came in and bought a movie and Myron followed her out asking her if he could watch the movie with her. The woman left looking frightened and probably reaching for her pepper spray, but once she had gone, Myron said, "That lady is probably a hooker." She was dressed like a soccer mom and drove a VW. Definitely not a hooker.
While Coconuts may seem like a glamorous job with enough characters to start a prime time sitcom, in actuality, it sucks. I guess sucks is a strong word, but it is definitely not the most enjoyable thing in the world given it's boring, dingy atmosphere and near minimum wage. But hey, it keeps me busy this summer and it earns me that coveted pimp status.
Since I haven't blogged in a while, I have so much to catch you up on. I actually just got back from a four day trip to visit Dan on Long Island. It was by far one of the best times I have ever had, but it only left me missing Dan more and wishing I was back at my home under the dome. But I feel that Coconuts craziness and my New York excursion are too much to put into one post so I will probably have a New York post in by tomorrow, just so I can split it up for you. I don't want your eyes to get tired. See, I'm just that nice. Always thinking of you.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Summer in St. Ow
This blog is coming to you straight from Stow, OH, or as I like to call it "St. Ow." Trust me, it'll catch on. I got back last Saturday after a grueling week of exams and goodbyes. Leaving Notre Dame for the summer was harder than I thought it would be. It's not like going on summer break in high school, where there's no school and all your friends live close by. While the break from school work is very welcomed, I will miss my friends very much, seeing as they live in New York, Illinois, California, Connecticut, etc. Even some of my friends from high school won't be around, as OSU doesn't get out until later, and some are just staying at their schools for the summer. So looking at the summer from the vantage point of Notre Dame, it seems like a very lonely three months. But now that I'm back, it's not so bad. I still have Heather and Metzger will be back soon and hopefully there might be a Visor reunion (hey Rence). It's kind of ironic; I didn't want to leave home to go to college, but by the end of the year, I didn't want to leave what had become my home for the past several months to go back to my other home. But also like leaving for college, the worst part about leaving from college was the anticipation. Now that I'm back home, everything is cool. Spending time with my family is great, and I do enjoy living in a place where I can stick out my arms and not hit anything.
Even though I'm back in St. Ow (really, it's catching on, I swear) I have one last story from good ol' ND. I was at North Dining Hall (after a year, I can verify that North is indeed far superior to South) and standing in line for oriental stirfry. As I was waiting for mine to be prepared, I noticed the couple in line behind me. The whole time the girl was putting her vegetables on her plate, the guy with her was holding her, stroking her, doing everything he could while still giving her complete vegetable choosing capabilities. As soon as she had picked her stirfry ingredients, she turned to face the guy and the two proceeded to make out. I politely looked away, not wanting to spoil my apetite for some Chinese Traditional I had just prepared. The poor girl working the stirfry line had to ask "wrap or rice" several times before the girl de-suctioned herself from the guy's lips to respond, after which, they went right back at it. Curiosity got the best of me (and my stirfry was taking a ridiculously long time) and I looked over. The girl pulled away just enough that I saw who she was. Are you guys ready for this? Ready? READY??? Ok. It was ASIAN CHICK! Just when I thought I had lost her forever, there she was, right behind me in the stirfry line, sucking the face off one of her clients. Perhaps I am being judgemental and this lucky fellow was her boyfriend. This is entirely possible, seeing as she wasn't wearing her usual work uniform of shirts that screamed "DO ME." She was wearing a simple white tank top with no writing at all. I admit, after my initial elation at the Asian Chick sighting, I was dissapointed to see she had given up her former life for a steady boyfriend. But I guess it is somewhat symbolic. As the year comes to a close, so do the legs of my favorite ND student.
Well, that's all for now. I now have a job at Coconuts music store, which is pretty sweet so far and will give me plenty of material for this blog. Apparently, all the Kent crazies frequent the Coconuts and I already have good stories, but that is for a later time. I'm off to buy a Web Cam to possibly shorten the distance between Long Island and St. Ow (seriously, isn't that catchy?). Web Cams are cheaper than cell phones, so get your mind out of the gutter. Web Cams just have a bad rap from misuse. And maybe by Long Island I meant Rupa! Ok, I meant Dan...
Even though I'm back in St. Ow (really, it's catching on, I swear) I have one last story from good ol' ND. I was at North Dining Hall (after a year, I can verify that North is indeed far superior to South) and standing in line for oriental stirfry. As I was waiting for mine to be prepared, I noticed the couple in line behind me. The whole time the girl was putting her vegetables on her plate, the guy with her was holding her, stroking her, doing everything he could while still giving her complete vegetable choosing capabilities. As soon as she had picked her stirfry ingredients, she turned to face the guy and the two proceeded to make out. I politely looked away, not wanting to spoil my apetite for some Chinese Traditional I had just prepared. The poor girl working the stirfry line had to ask "wrap or rice" several times before the girl de-suctioned herself from the guy's lips to respond, after which, they went right back at it. Curiosity got the best of me (and my stirfry was taking a ridiculously long time) and I looked over. The girl pulled away just enough that I saw who she was. Are you guys ready for this? Ready? READY??? Ok. It was ASIAN CHICK! Just when I thought I had lost her forever, there she was, right behind me in the stirfry line, sucking the face off one of her clients. Perhaps I am being judgemental and this lucky fellow was her boyfriend. This is entirely possible, seeing as she wasn't wearing her usual work uniform of shirts that screamed "DO ME." She was wearing a simple white tank top with no writing at all. I admit, after my initial elation at the Asian Chick sighting, I was dissapointed to see she had given up her former life for a steady boyfriend. But I guess it is somewhat symbolic. As the year comes to a close, so do the legs of my favorite ND student.
Well, that's all for now. I now have a job at Coconuts music store, which is pretty sweet so far and will give me plenty of material for this blog. Apparently, all the Kent crazies frequent the Coconuts and I already have good stories, but that is for a later time. I'm off to buy a Web Cam to possibly shorten the distance between Long Island and St. Ow (seriously, isn't that catchy?). Web Cams are cheaper than cell phones, so get your mind out of the gutter. Web Cams just have a bad rap from misuse. And maybe by Long Island I meant Rupa! Ok, I meant Dan...
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Pig Mania
As Dana keeps reminding me every day via AIM, I need to update my blog. I hope I haven't lost any of my fan base (Metzger) since my last post. I need to start updating more frequently, but exams and the end of freshmen year (so sad!) are coming up and I'm afraid that after this post, you will have to wait until summer. Speaking of summer, if anyone wants to hire me for any job, that would be great.
Today was "Blue and Gold" day, meaning it was the day of the Blue and Gold game--a glorified football scrimmage accompanied by mass drunkeness. The day started out at 10 am with Pig Tostal, not exactly a school-endorsed function, but the name is a play on "Ann Toastal", the year's end festivities. Pig Tostal is a big party thrown by the swim team. It cost $10 to get in to help pay for the 70 kegs and the giant pig roast at the party. Basically, I paid for the plastic pink cup that was handed to me at the door, as I don't drink and I didn't stay long enough for the pig to be completely roasted. It was a beautiful day out and there were a ton of people, so it was a good time. Dana and Rupa took advantage of Caitlin and my aversion to beer and had us fill up our cups so that as soon as they were done with the first beer, we could hand them another one without the drudgery of waiting in line. Caitlin and I sauntered over, begrudgingly following the commands of our cooler friends, and eyed the keg awhile so as to figure out how it worked before shoving our neon pink cups forward to be filled with foamy goodness. I must admit, I felt slightly cooler holding the filled cup, but then ultimately less cooler when Rupa flipped out when she found out I had never even tasted beer before. Apparently, this whole year Rupa had thought I was a recovered party girl, turned good after deciding I didn't like the taste of naty light or the experience of waking up in bathrooms, unable to locate my bra or cab fare. Nope, my story isn't that good. I'm simply a recovered crack addict with an addictive personality, so I cannot have any substance of potential abuse. Just kidding, I'm simply a good girl, which in a strange way, makes me a rebel, but I won't bore you with my crusade of alternative lifestyle. Anywho, Rupa eventually handed me her empty cup, trading me for the full one. As I admired my $10 worth of pink plastic, stumbling, shirtless, painted boys came over to Caitlin, Dana, and I. Our empty cups offended them apparantly, as they quickly grabbed them to get us beer, which we repeatedly said we didn't want. But they insisted, made off with the cups, and proceeded to call us losers, complete with the thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an L on the forehead. Classy. That's not even the worst part. They assumed we were from St. Mary's. At this point, we walked away, refusing to tell them where we really lived. Unfortunately, walking away resulted in a loss of our pink cups. It was a five minute tragedy. Caitiln was so upset that she lost her cup, that on our way out of the party, she grabbed an abandoned one on the sidewalk. In the cab, someone asked Billy what he did with his cup. He said he didn't know what he did with it and he must have set it down somewhere. Caitlin stole Billy's cup. And that is why she is a rebel.
Only 2 more weeks of school. I don't think I can stand it! Part of me is looking forward to being home and not having homework and being able to relax. But once I'm sick of relaxing, what will I do? My plan this summer is to get as cut/buff/jacked as possible so come boxing season, I'll be a beast in the ring, or at least a very ferocious house cat. Hopefully a job will pull through (I put an application everywhere in Stow) so I won't be too bored. Maybe I'll write a novel or watch every crazy movie I can find at the video store. And there are a lot of crazy movies at the video store. Metzger and I are particularly good at picking them out. We watch movies you have never heard of and probably never will, but are so good that you can't get them out of your head. Why these movies aren't mainstream, I will never know. Actually, it's probably because they have more controversial, dark humor than most movies, but we should embrace this humor. Might I recommend "Pretty Persuasion" or "But I'm a Cheerleader" both excellent films. I should know. I'm a film major.
The season finale of "Late Night ND" is this Thursday at Legends at 10:00. You should come. I'll be in a skit as a whore, again. But this time, I really whore it up. I'm actually playing a brothel matron, the brothel being the practice rooms in Crowly Hall of Music. Shooting this was oh-so fun (insert sarcastic tone). I was decked out in red lipstick, mini skirt, high heels, leapord midrift baring tank top, and fish net hose which I pulled up high enough to cover my stomach. This was not a problem until professors and small children started walking around. When I was picking out the outfit, I had forgotten that other people would be existing at the same time as I wore this get up. People stared, but I assured everyone one of them that, despite the cameras, cigarettes, and condoms, we were not shooting a porno. After the shoot was over, I could not wait to get changed into normal clothes. Of course none of those professors walked by when I was in normal attire. The worst part is that once I got back to my dorm that night, I got an email saying that the sound didn't pick up and that we have to redo the shoot tomorrow. I hate dressing like a whore on Sunday. But anything for NDTV.
Aight' it's bedtime for me because I'm that cool. Enjoy your Ann Toastal or Pig Tostals or overblown scrimmages or whatever the kids are doing these days. See you in the summer.
Today was "Blue and Gold" day, meaning it was the day of the Blue and Gold game--a glorified football scrimmage accompanied by mass drunkeness. The day started out at 10 am with Pig Tostal, not exactly a school-endorsed function, but the name is a play on "Ann Toastal", the year's end festivities. Pig Tostal is a big party thrown by the swim team. It cost $10 to get in to help pay for the 70 kegs and the giant pig roast at the party. Basically, I paid for the plastic pink cup that was handed to me at the door, as I don't drink and I didn't stay long enough for the pig to be completely roasted. It was a beautiful day out and there were a ton of people, so it was a good time. Dana and Rupa took advantage of Caitlin and my aversion to beer and had us fill up our cups so that as soon as they were done with the first beer, we could hand them another one without the drudgery of waiting in line. Caitlin and I sauntered over, begrudgingly following the commands of our cooler friends, and eyed the keg awhile so as to figure out how it worked before shoving our neon pink cups forward to be filled with foamy goodness. I must admit, I felt slightly cooler holding the filled cup, but then ultimately less cooler when Rupa flipped out when she found out I had never even tasted beer before. Apparently, this whole year Rupa had thought I was a recovered party girl, turned good after deciding I didn't like the taste of naty light or the experience of waking up in bathrooms, unable to locate my bra or cab fare. Nope, my story isn't that good. I'm simply a recovered crack addict with an addictive personality, so I cannot have any substance of potential abuse. Just kidding, I'm simply a good girl, which in a strange way, makes me a rebel, but I won't bore you with my crusade of alternative lifestyle. Anywho, Rupa eventually handed me her empty cup, trading me for the full one. As I admired my $10 worth of pink plastic, stumbling, shirtless, painted boys came over to Caitlin, Dana, and I. Our empty cups offended them apparantly, as they quickly grabbed them to get us beer, which we repeatedly said we didn't want. But they insisted, made off with the cups, and proceeded to call us losers, complete with the thumb and pointer finger in the shape of an L on the forehead. Classy. That's not even the worst part. They assumed we were from St. Mary's. At this point, we walked away, refusing to tell them where we really lived. Unfortunately, walking away resulted in a loss of our pink cups. It was a five minute tragedy. Caitiln was so upset that she lost her cup, that on our way out of the party, she grabbed an abandoned one on the sidewalk. In the cab, someone asked Billy what he did with his cup. He said he didn't know what he did with it and he must have set it down somewhere. Caitlin stole Billy's cup. And that is why she is a rebel.
Only 2 more weeks of school. I don't think I can stand it! Part of me is looking forward to being home and not having homework and being able to relax. But once I'm sick of relaxing, what will I do? My plan this summer is to get as cut/buff/jacked as possible so come boxing season, I'll be a beast in the ring, or at least a very ferocious house cat. Hopefully a job will pull through (I put an application everywhere in Stow) so I won't be too bored. Maybe I'll write a novel or watch every crazy movie I can find at the video store. And there are a lot of crazy movies at the video store. Metzger and I are particularly good at picking them out. We watch movies you have never heard of and probably never will, but are so good that you can't get them out of your head. Why these movies aren't mainstream, I will never know. Actually, it's probably because they have more controversial, dark humor than most movies, but we should embrace this humor. Might I recommend "Pretty Persuasion" or "But I'm a Cheerleader" both excellent films. I should know. I'm a film major.
The season finale of "Late Night ND" is this Thursday at Legends at 10:00. You should come. I'll be in a skit as a whore, again. But this time, I really whore it up. I'm actually playing a brothel matron, the brothel being the practice rooms in Crowly Hall of Music. Shooting this was oh-so fun (insert sarcastic tone). I was decked out in red lipstick, mini skirt, high heels, leapord midrift baring tank top, and fish net hose which I pulled up high enough to cover my stomach. This was not a problem until professors and small children started walking around. When I was picking out the outfit, I had forgotten that other people would be existing at the same time as I wore this get up. People stared, but I assured everyone one of them that, despite the cameras, cigarettes, and condoms, we were not shooting a porno. After the shoot was over, I could not wait to get changed into normal clothes. Of course none of those professors walked by when I was in normal attire. The worst part is that once I got back to my dorm that night, I got an email saying that the sound didn't pick up and that we have to redo the shoot tomorrow. I hate dressing like a whore on Sunday. But anything for NDTV.
Aight' it's bedtime for me because I'm that cool. Enjoy your Ann Toastal or Pig Tostals or overblown scrimmages or whatever the kids are doing these days. See you in the summer.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
I'm Not Dead
Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I thought I'd be able to put up more posts with the play being over (it went amazingly, by the way. Thanks to all who went!). I guess I was wrong. I've just gotten lazy and more unproductive now that I am not as stressed. Crazy. Anyway, I thought I'd better put up a post so that Metzger has something to do once she gets back from Texas. Actually, I was most motivated to post a new entry after getting this IM from Rence.
After taking a hiatus from all non-academic clubs and activities, I decided to show up again at NDTV and do some comedy bits for Late Night ND. Since I'm one of the only girls (if not the only girl) left on the staff, I got to play all the girl roles. This quickly turned into me playing a slut in several forms. In one bit, I had to be a girl breaking parietals (staying in a guys dorm past midnight on the weekdays or 2 am on the weekends, for those of you not in the know). Skanky. Then I had to play Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City (the premise was Sex and the Campus, so since we're at ND, nothing happened). Extra slutty. Then I had to play a porn star, during which I tried to stick a $20 bill down my shirt and ended up getting a paper cut, or I guess a money cut, on my chest. Super Sleezy. You can see all of this tomorrow (Thursday) night at Legends at 10. Don't pretend like you don't want to see it.
This is the first week back from spring break, though it feels like I've been back for longer. I went home for break, back to good ol' Stow, OH. It was nice to relax and sleep, especially since I got sick halfway through. I got to see some friends, spend time with the fam, and sleep sleep sleep. Though it was nice to chill, spring break seemed like a preview of a very long and dull summer. Maybe (hopefully) I'll be proven wrong.
Since I don't drink, do drugs, sleep around, or perform random acts of violence, and I already have my belly button pierced, I needed a way to feel rebellious--an outlet for my self-expression now that I don't have to wear khakis and a polo every day. I needed to show the world that I am in college, and I'm a film major (let's forget the double in business for a moment). I went to Walgreens and didn't tell my mom what I was buying. I simply told her it was hair stuff. Good cover. She thought I was buying condoms. I go up to the bathroom, and after a while, she knocks on the door. I have to let her in. She opens the door and looks at me in horror. Was I
a) shaving the hamsters that live in the basement
b) painting my nails black
c) piercing my own nose
d) chatting it up with Sylvester Stalone on my cell
The answer is none of the above. It was a trick question. I was putting fuschia streaks in my hair--with permanent hair dye. Try to contain your disbelief. Seriously. Get a hold of yourself! Yeah my mom actually wasn't too upset. She offered to help. But then she saw the giant mess of pink dye in the bathroom and told me I was on my own. The highlights actually don't look too bad. I like them. I feel so college and rebellious. I'm probably dying it back to brown over Easter.
I just got a call from Joe Lattal of NDTV and the shoot we did last night was on a bad tape and we have to reshoot it. So I have to play a slut. Again. *Sigh* If I didn't know any better, I might think being a slut is my job, like I'm a prostitute or something. But I don't wear shirts that say "FREE" or "WILD" on them. I miss Asian Chick...
TehRence: Due to your lack of blog updates, I'm afraid you might be dead. Please confirm otherwise.
pocaloca05: haha i'm not dead! i'm surprised that you read my blog frequently enough to know that i haven't posted in a while
TehRence: I probably check it daily
pocaloca05: woah that's nuts
I was actually kind of flattered that my existence is now being based on my blog updates. It makes me think I have a fan base, though I doubt Rence really checks my blog every day. That really would be nuts.After taking a hiatus from all non-academic clubs and activities, I decided to show up again at NDTV and do some comedy bits for Late Night ND. Since I'm one of the only girls (if not the only girl) left on the staff, I got to play all the girl roles. This quickly turned into me playing a slut in several forms. In one bit, I had to be a girl breaking parietals (staying in a guys dorm past midnight on the weekdays or 2 am on the weekends, for those of you not in the know). Skanky. Then I had to play Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City (the premise was Sex and the Campus, so since we're at ND, nothing happened). Extra slutty. Then I had to play a porn star, during which I tried to stick a $20 bill down my shirt and ended up getting a paper cut, or I guess a money cut, on my chest. Super Sleezy. You can see all of this tomorrow (Thursday) night at Legends at 10. Don't pretend like you don't want to see it.
This is the first week back from spring break, though it feels like I've been back for longer. I went home for break, back to good ol' Stow, OH. It was nice to relax and sleep, especially since I got sick halfway through. I got to see some friends, spend time with the fam, and sleep sleep sleep. Though it was nice to chill, spring break seemed like a preview of a very long and dull summer. Maybe (hopefully) I'll be proven wrong.
Since I don't drink, do drugs, sleep around, or perform random acts of violence, and I already have my belly button pierced, I needed a way to feel rebellious--an outlet for my self-expression now that I don't have to wear khakis and a polo every day. I needed to show the world that I am in college, and I'm a film major (let's forget the double in business for a moment). I went to Walgreens and didn't tell my mom what I was buying. I simply told her it was hair stuff. Good cover. She thought I was buying condoms. I go up to the bathroom, and after a while, she knocks on the door. I have to let her in. She opens the door and looks at me in horror. Was I
a) shaving the hamsters that live in the basement
b) painting my nails black
c) piercing my own nose
d) chatting it up with Sylvester Stalone on my cell
The answer is none of the above. It was a trick question. I was putting fuschia streaks in my hair--with permanent hair dye. Try to contain your disbelief. Seriously. Get a hold of yourself! Yeah my mom actually wasn't too upset. She offered to help. But then she saw the giant mess of pink dye in the bathroom and told me I was on my own. The highlights actually don't look too bad. I like them. I feel so college and rebellious. I'm probably dying it back to brown over Easter.
I just got a call from Joe Lattal of NDTV and the shoot we did last night was on a bad tape and we have to reshoot it. So I have to play a slut. Again. *Sigh* If I didn't know any better, I might think being a slut is my job, like I'm a prostitute or something. But I don't wear shirts that say "FREE" or "WILD" on them. I miss Asian Chick...
Saturday, February 18, 2006
All the cool kids go to see Suburbia
Ah, Valentine's Day. The day devoted to love, flowers, candy--keeping the Hallmark company in business and making single people want to chug cyanide. My Valentine's Day was fairly non-traditional, because I got to kiss not only my boyfriend, but I also kissed another guy and had my butt grabbed by yet another. No, I did not go to another Zahm party. I had rehearsal. (FYI, the kissing and butt grabbing mean nothing to me--it's simply acting). In any case, I had a nice Valentine's Day. Though this is rather belated, in honor of the day, I will analyze one of John Casey Engelbert III's (his name was my name, too) poems. Mr. Engelbert is a terrific poet and will reach world fame someday with such lovely poems as "A poem by an emo kid." Here is his "A Poem of Love." I shall present my comments along the side in blue.
Wow, Casey is an amazing poet. I hope this analysis has helped you to uncover the depth of his words.
Now for the shameless self-promotion....
SUBURBIA is next week, February 23, 24, 25 at 7:30 at Washington Hall. Tickets are $5 at the LaFortune box office. That's not a bad price, considering all you get to see in an hour and a half. This play is full of sex, drugs, and rock & roll (and I'm the sex). Everyone has worked very hard (those of you who live with me know this) and we have been rehearsing for four months, so the acting is spectacular, and the staging is great, too (Dana helped paint). The play is about 20 somethings in a New England town. These kids didn't go to college and don't have jobs. They have dreams that go no where, and they are basically wasting their lives. All this dreaming and getting no where comes to a head when their friend from high school, now a popular rock singer, comes back to visit. They all realize that their lives are meaningless, but don't know where to go next. The play deals with racism, sex, violence, smoking, drinking, swearing, and the meaning of life. The play is appropriate for college students because it gives you a glimpse into what would happen if we didn't pursue our goals or strive to accomplish anything. The play is funny, edgy, raunchy and promiscuous and is not shy of making the audience feel uncomfortable. And ladies, there is a very attractive male lead who strips to his boxers. Gentleman, trust me, you'll just like it. Please come to Suburbia, if for no other reason than I won't like you if you don't.
Love, love, oh it’s love, my dear love! From this stanza, we can see that
Songs of the night sing sweetly. Casey wants to be an astronaut and
Looking down from the stars up above, probably is a stalker, considering he
For you I reach – discreetly. speaks of reaching for someone, stealthily
What is this love? Casey is confused by his mixed feelings of
What is it that it tells me? cupidity and sleepiness, since he has been up
Could it be the end of the night, all night listening to LFOs "Summer Time Girls"
Or the innocence of a summer’s song?
I reach down inside, Casey is bullimic and is trying to make himself vomit
Deeper… Deeper… by sticking his finger down his throat, yet he just can't
But only to find do it. He can't reach his uvula, but only finds that his
A slope yet still steeper. throat slopes down deeper than he thought. He needs ipecac.
I call out in the night After taking the ipecac, Casey starts to hallucinate.
To that star shining so bright. Nevermind that ipecac is not a hallucinogenic.
It tells me to fight, He thinks he is a wolf and starts howling at the moon.
But no… No. He pulls a fight club and starts to fight himself, thinking
All strength is lost he is actually fighting Brad Pitt. He realizes that Brad Pitt
Either by cheap stratagem, is a beast and gives up. He makes some rude comments
Or forgotten purpose. about Angelina Jolie, but then realizes he is not
wearing pants and he doesn't know where he is.
So I leave you with this: Though Casey wants to be with the one he loves,
Give me just one chance. all bets are off if she can't dance.
And in the end, Casey enjoys getting his groove on at Legends.
I hope you dance.
Wow, Casey is an amazing poet. I hope this analysis has helped you to uncover the depth of his words.
Now for the shameless self-promotion....
SUBURBIA is next week, February 23, 24, 25 at 7:30 at Washington Hall. Tickets are $5 at the LaFortune box office. That's not a bad price, considering all you get to see in an hour and a half. This play is full of sex, drugs, and rock & roll (and I'm the sex). Everyone has worked very hard (those of you who live with me know this) and we have been rehearsing for four months, so the acting is spectacular, and the staging is great, too (Dana helped paint). The play is about 20 somethings in a New England town. These kids didn't go to college and don't have jobs. They have dreams that go no where, and they are basically wasting their lives. All this dreaming and getting no where comes to a head when their friend from high school, now a popular rock singer, comes back to visit. They all realize that their lives are meaningless, but don't know where to go next. The play deals with racism, sex, violence, smoking, drinking, swearing, and the meaning of life. The play is appropriate for college students because it gives you a glimpse into what would happen if we didn't pursue our goals or strive to accomplish anything. The play is funny, edgy, raunchy and promiscuous and is not shy of making the audience feel uncomfortable. And ladies, there is a very attractive male lead who strips to his boxers. Gentleman, trust me, you'll just like it. Please come to Suburbia, if for no other reason than I won't like you if you don't.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
I Wanna Be Bad
The other day, while dining on the fine cuisine of North Dining Hall, a discussion was had among several young women about who is a badass. It was decided that Dana was a badass and that Angela was not a badass, but definitely fit in with the badasses. I chimed in and declared that I was a badass, which brought about rollicking laughter. No matter how many examples I brough up to prove my badassity, no one would concede that I am indeed, a badass. So I shall present to you the following reasons of why I am a badass.
I'm sure there are plenty other examples of my badassity/badassness but I think I've provided you with enough proof. I'm off to participate in some badass activities, namely innertube water polo to raise money for special olympics....oh yeah....sooooo B.A.
- I box
- I have a theory about killing puppies
- I have a thing for the Amish
- Sometimes I do my math homework in pen instead of pencil. You can't erase pen.
- I steal stuff from the dining hall and give it to my family
- A couple times, I ran through the snow in nothing but a bathing suit
- I have a rather large/sharp knife in a drawer in my room
- I have poker chips in my room. I keep them next to the knife.
- I drink coffee black
- My eyes glow
- I hate country music
- In first grade, I pinched a girl until she cried so she would give me her hoolahoop
- I recover quickly from falls, even when I'm on a cellphone when I hit the ground
- My nick name in 8th grade was satan
- I've eaten alligator meat
- I have a leather jacket
I'm sure there are plenty other examples of my badassity/badassness but I think I've provided you with enough proof. I'm off to participate in some badass activities, namely innertube water polo to raise money for special olympics....oh yeah....sooooo B.A.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Saturday Night Fever
It's Saturday night, and I'm blogging. Now, this may seem pathetic/lame, partially because it is. But I needed a calm Saturday after the last one. I won't go into the nitty gritty details of last Saturday's events, but I will present them to you in the form of several songs by Rooney, No Doubt, and Abba.
" Make a move on me baby
I cant be the one who's
Always taking chances
See me down
So you get down
No you've got me all wrong
I just want to kiss your lips
And you kiss back...
Leave us alone
Your friends
And my friends
Should go
Far away"
"He doesn't have the answer yet
The answer yet
I'm breathing down his neck
Maybe i should give him time"
" I'm a terrible person
Cause I've led him on
And I'm the only one who knows what I've done to him
I'm much smarter now
I won't tell his friends before him
I'm so afraid
It's gonna be a bad day come Sunday"
"Well, I met this guy on a
Saturday night, saturday night...
I'm sorry sorry for making your life a living hell
That wasn't me
That was alter ego"
" You came in with the breeze
On Sunday Morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning "
" The judges will decide
The likes of me abide
Spectators of the show
Always staying low
The game is on again
A lover or a friend
A big thing or a small
The winner takes it all
I don't wanna talk
If it makes you feel sad
And I understand
You've come to shake my hand
I apologize
If it makes you feel bad
Seeing me so tense
No self-confidence
But you see
The winner takes it all"
Stuff happened, people talked, emotions were churning, no one went to bed until 6 Sunday morning. Though everything seems like it went quite poorly, given the depressing nature of these lyrics, everything actually ended up working out in the end. I put my Rooney CD away and am on to happier music, like Grillz (just kidding....or am I?).
In other non-interesting news, it's good to be back at school. I've only been back for 2 weeks, but it feels like 2 months. The work is harder, but the friends are more fun because by now we are all very close. With a new semester comes new classes, which means no more Asian Chick. I've been searching for my new subject of blogosphere humiliation but have yet to come up with anything. My philosophy professor might actually fill that void. The first day of class, she told everyone that this is the first class she is teaching and the last because she is getting married in May and once she is married, she is never working again. I'm all up for women having the freedom to choose whether to work or not, but this one just got her PhD so she can be a housewife? Italian is difficult as usual, seeing as I just kind of wing it and don't really speak the language. But I always felt comfortable doing this because that is what everyone else in the class seemed to be doing. That is, until this girl with far too much eyeliner entered the class. Since there is no more Asian Chick, we shall call this person Italian Bird. This girl insists on sitting next to or very near to me every class. She doesn't need to take Italian because she seems quite fluent in the language and shows off by speaking far too fast for anyone to comprehend. And since she always sits next to me, I have to be her partner for in class activities, during which she corrects everything I say as if she is my own personal tutor. Now, you might be thinking I should look at this as an opportunity to improve my Italian by working with someone who can teach my things. I am far to prideful and annoyed by this girl to see that. I have begun to bang my head against the wall everytime this girl talks. And on top of her far-superior Italian know-how, she laughs at almost everything far too loudly. Ok, now I know I'm ranting and this doesn't sound too terribly annoying, but it is. Just trust me on this one. You probably should have just skimmed this paragraph.
Other things have happened in the life of me but I'm not going to tell you about them because a) you probably don't care and b) most of the people reading were probably with me when things happened or have already heard about them. So I'm off to enjoy what's left of my Saturday night...by going to bed. I swear, that's not what I normally do.
" Make a move on me baby
I cant be the one who's
Always taking chances
See me down
So you get down
No you've got me all wrong
I just want to kiss your lips
And you kiss back...
Leave us alone
Your friends
And my friends
Should go
Far away"
"He doesn't have the answer yet
The answer yet
I'm breathing down his neck
Maybe i should give him time"
" I'm a terrible person
Cause I've led him on
And I'm the only one who knows what I've done to him
I'm much smarter now
I won't tell his friends before him
I'm so afraid
It's gonna be a bad day come Sunday"
"Well, I met this guy on a
Saturday night, saturday night...
I'm sorry sorry for making your life a living hell
That wasn't me
That was alter ego"
" You came in with the breeze
On Sunday Morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning "
" The judges will decide
The likes of me abide
Spectators of the show
Always staying low
The game is on again
A lover or a friend
A big thing or a small
The winner takes it all
I don't wanna talk
If it makes you feel sad
And I understand
You've come to shake my hand
I apologize
If it makes you feel bad
Seeing me so tense
No self-confidence
But you see
The winner takes it all"
Stuff happened, people talked, emotions were churning, no one went to bed until 6 Sunday morning. Though everything seems like it went quite poorly, given the depressing nature of these lyrics, everything actually ended up working out in the end. I put my Rooney CD away and am on to happier music, like Grillz (just kidding....or am I?).
In other non-interesting news, it's good to be back at school. I've only been back for 2 weeks, but it feels like 2 months. The work is harder, but the friends are more fun because by now we are all very close. With a new semester comes new classes, which means no more Asian Chick. I've been searching for my new subject of blogosphere humiliation but have yet to come up with anything. My philosophy professor might actually fill that void. The first day of class, she told everyone that this is the first class she is teaching and the last because she is getting married in May and once she is married, she is never working again. I'm all up for women having the freedom to choose whether to work or not, but this one just got her PhD so she can be a housewife? Italian is difficult as usual, seeing as I just kind of wing it and don't really speak the language. But I always felt comfortable doing this because that is what everyone else in the class seemed to be doing. That is, until this girl with far too much eyeliner entered the class. Since there is no more Asian Chick, we shall call this person Italian Bird. This girl insists on sitting next to or very near to me every class. She doesn't need to take Italian because she seems quite fluent in the language and shows off by speaking far too fast for anyone to comprehend. And since she always sits next to me, I have to be her partner for in class activities, during which she corrects everything I say as if she is my own personal tutor. Now, you might be thinking I should look at this as an opportunity to improve my Italian by working with someone who can teach my things. I am far to prideful and annoyed by this girl to see that. I have begun to bang my head against the wall everytime this girl talks. And on top of her far-superior Italian know-how, she laughs at almost everything far too loudly. Ok, now I know I'm ranting and this doesn't sound too terribly annoying, but it is. Just trust me on this one. You probably should have just skimmed this paragraph.
Other things have happened in the life of me but I'm not going to tell you about them because a) you probably don't care and b) most of the people reading were probably with me when things happened or have already heard about them. So I'm off to enjoy what's left of my Saturday night...by going to bed. I swear, that's not what I normally do.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
A Fourth of the Way to Dead
I'm 19 now! Yay! My birthday was January 3rd, in case you're a jerk and you missed it. Turning 19 is so anti-climactic. Nothing happens. In fact, it's slightly depresssing, being my last year as a teenager. In a year, I will be expected to act with reverance toward society, listen to sophisticated music, go to swanky parties, and stop watching MTV and switch completely to VH1 (I like VH1 a lot but I can't live without Date My Mom). The way I see it is 19 is one year away from 20, which is half way to 40, which is half way to dead. Crap! I'm almost a fourth of the way to dead! I better start accomplishing all those life goals, but how am I ever going to train a manatee/sea cow to do the macarena?
My birthday festivities were not too exciting. They were nice and laid back, which is exactly what I wanted, so it was good for me, just very boring for you to read, so I won't write it out here. I got a very lovely charm bracelet from my parents. I've been collecting charms since 5th grade and had them on a very dainty charm bracelet, but the bracelet I just got is bigger and sturdier and shinier. Shininess is key. My mom said that this is my adult charm bracelet, so apparently it is only suitable for mature audiences. Now I can get those genitalia charms I've always wanted... (note: I'm kidding about the genitalia charms. That would be gross)
On my birthday, a strange van pulled into my driveway and a man came to my door delivering flowers. He politely said, "I've got some flowers here for, umm, Elsie." Ugh, if I had a dime for evertime someone called me Elsie... I responded "It's Elise." He said, "Alice?" I said, "Close enough." and took the flowers while my mom signed for them. I was very perplexed about who the flowers could be from. Nana? Oma? My mom? Sylvester Stalone? I looked at the card to find they were from Dan Canders! (formerly known as Stan Flanders) I was floored! So shocked! Never have I been so surprised! It was the nicest, sweetest, coolest, most surprising thing ever! Oy, please excuse the gushing of gratitude. After I called Dan to thank him, I called Caitlin. She already knew. Angela already knew. And most surprising, Dana already knew. I guess for me, part of this huge floral surprise is that Dana knew a secret and didn't tell me. That's a pretty big deal.
There are only a few more days until I return to ND, and I must admit, I'm getting a little antsy. I have thouroughly enjoyed my time at home with my family, but I miss my friends at school. It's strange starting a new life somewhere else and then returning to the old one. Not that I want to ditch the "old life" completely, but its just strange. Here is a list of the best parts about being home in Ohio:
-Seeing family
-Swensons (best burgers ever)
-the holidays
-sleep
-private work out room
-hot tub
-my own bedroom
-food at any time
-home cooking
-seeing Metzger, Colleen, Heather, and others
-big screen tv with cable
-my crazy family (I know I mentioned this above, but their craziness gets its own bullet point)
-my pets
-no homework
-shopping with my mom
-annoying my brother
-laughing at/with my dad
-seeing movies
-Selma, my car
-Shower without sandals
Here are the things that are not so good about being home
-I miss my 6A girls!
-I miss all my other friends, too!
-I don't do anything on the weekends here
-I have to clean the bathroom
-The 24/7 party that is Pasquerilla East
-My good friends have already gone back to school (METZGER!)
Ok so the good things about home outweigh the bad things, because home is really great and I love spending time with my family. But I will be ready to go back to ND, maybe not for the school work, but definitely for the friends.
My birthday festivities were not too exciting. They were nice and laid back, which is exactly what I wanted, so it was good for me, just very boring for you to read, so I won't write it out here. I got a very lovely charm bracelet from my parents. I've been collecting charms since 5th grade and had them on a very dainty charm bracelet, but the bracelet I just got is bigger and sturdier and shinier. Shininess is key. My mom said that this is my adult charm bracelet, so apparently it is only suitable for mature audiences. Now I can get those genitalia charms I've always wanted... (note: I'm kidding about the genitalia charms. That would be gross)
On my birthday, a strange van pulled into my driveway and a man came to my door delivering flowers. He politely said, "I've got some flowers here for, umm, Elsie." Ugh, if I had a dime for evertime someone called me Elsie... I responded "It's Elise." He said, "Alice?" I said, "Close enough." and took the flowers while my mom signed for them. I was very perplexed about who the flowers could be from. Nana? Oma? My mom? Sylvester Stalone? I looked at the card to find they were from Dan Canders! (formerly known as Stan Flanders) I was floored! So shocked! Never have I been so surprised! It was the nicest, sweetest, coolest, most surprising thing ever! Oy, please excuse the gushing of gratitude. After I called Dan to thank him, I called Caitlin. She already knew. Angela already knew. And most surprising, Dana already knew. I guess for me, part of this huge floral surprise is that Dana knew a secret and didn't tell me. That's a pretty big deal.
There are only a few more days until I return to ND, and I must admit, I'm getting a little antsy. I have thouroughly enjoyed my time at home with my family, but I miss my friends at school. It's strange starting a new life somewhere else and then returning to the old one. Not that I want to ditch the "old life" completely, but its just strange. Here is a list of the best parts about being home in Ohio:
-Seeing family
-Swensons (best burgers ever)
-the holidays
-sleep
-private work out room
-hot tub
-my own bedroom
-food at any time
-home cooking
-seeing Metzger, Colleen, Heather, and others
-big screen tv with cable
-my crazy family (I know I mentioned this above, but their craziness gets its own bullet point)
-my pets
-no homework
-shopping with my mom
-annoying my brother
-laughing at/with my dad
-seeing movies
-Selma, my car
-Shower without sandals
Here are the things that are not so good about being home
-I miss my 6A girls!
-I miss all my other friends, too!
-I don't do anything on the weekends here
-I have to clean the bathroom
-The 24/7 party that is Pasquerilla East
-My good friends have already gone back to school (METZGER!)
Ok so the good things about home outweigh the bad things, because home is really great and I love spending time with my family. But I will be ready to go back to ND, maybe not for the school work, but definitely for the friends.
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