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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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 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 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.

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.

I Don't Really Do Resolutions

I know I said I'd be posting a lot more over break, but I ended up being busier than I thought I would be. Christmas was good, saw some family, gave some gifts, got some gifts, ate some food. Lately I haven't really been doing anything terribly interesting. I saw Timmy and Margaret, which was really nice. I saw Metzger a few times, which was freakin' sweet because, as you all know, German butchers are the shizz. I saw Colleen, the nicest girl ever. How much I have missed her laugh! And last night I saw Amelia, whom I have known since kindergarten, and old friends are always fun to catch up with. And of course I've seen Heather, the coolest girl ever and probably my oldest friend, considering we've lived across the street from each other since I was 2. Other than that, I have been missing ND, but slowly getting used to sleeping in and chilling out. One habit that I have developed is talking on the phone until the wee hours of the morning (around 3 am), usually with a certain Knott fellow, whose identity I will keep secret to spare him any potential embarassment. In this blog, I will refer to him as Stan Flanders. For some mysterious reason, Stan is able to keep me on the phone for hours several nights a week and never run out of things to talk about and always making me laugh. He's just so gosh darn charming! These enchanting phone calls usually cause me to sleep in until 1:00 or so in the afternoon, totally screwing up my sleeping pattern and daily plans, but it's so worth it.

So tonight is New Year's Eve. My parents have friends over. My brother has friends over. I am in my room listening to the radio and typing this blog. It's not that I have no friends, it's simply that all my friends either have boyfriends or some other sort of plans. And actually, I have learned from break that while high school friends are good to reunite with, I really love my college friends. Ladies of 6A, I miss you guys like mad. It seems that you fall into a certain group in high school and grade school and you don't really choose your friends but just happen upon them. These friends are great because they know your past and you share a lot of experiences with them. But to me, it seems that you choose your college friends and really find the people you click with. These friends may not know your past, but they will be there in your future. Maybe this is just me. I'm just lucky that I've found such great friends already.

So yeah, back to New Years. Ryan Seachrist replaced Dick Clark for the first part of the New Years show this year. Why is Ryan Seachrist such a television personality? Does anyone actually like him? What are you supposed to do on New Years anyway? Reflect on the past year? Plan for the next? Get drunk and party like it's 1999? Well, I don't really like to plan ahead or get drunk, so I'm going to reflect. Here is my 2005

I turned 18. I have yet to vote, buy tobacco products, join the military, etc.
I went on a bunch of college tours and visits.
I was Editor in Chief of the Visor, therefore I spent every other weekend in the high school with good ol' Bro Joe, eating Subway and criticizing writing styles
I had a snuffing ceremony (go ahead and ask me about that one) and chose Notre Dame (best decision of my life)
Prom! Go ahead and laugh, but I thought prom was a great time.
I graduated from high school. Yay for Hoban class of 2005
I went to St. John's in the Virgin Islands--the most beautiful place on earth. I want to go back right now.
I spent the summer laying out in the sun, reading, and hanging out with high school pals.
I started to freak out about college as Bed Bath and Beyond became my new home. I bought everything in purple.
I had a graduation party. I went to many graduation parties
A long (1 year and 9 months) relationship finally ended
I went away to college
I met Caitlin, Dana, Angela, Jess, Rupa, and Pasquerilla East
I joined boxing and ended up sticking with it and having a great time
I became a writer/actor for the Mike Peterson Show
I went to some SYRs. Yay
I went home for fall break.
I got cast in the play "Suburbia" as Erica, a promiscuous publicist
I found out that high school friends and relationships really don't last forever, but it's really ok for people to grow apart.
I met some more great people
I survived exams
I went through a semester of college without drinking (yes, it's actually possible, you naysayers who didn't think I could/would do it)
I came home for winter break
Christmas
Reunited with old friends
Sleep

That's my year. It may not seem like much, but it was actually a great year. Here's hoping for a wonderful 2006! Happy New Year, everyone.