hey, who stole my pants?

i just don't care about school anymore

2009-03-26T00:09:00.003-04:00

first, let's discuss how i haven't been on here in about 87 years. that is because said school has largely taken over my life with said stuff i can no longer seem to get very interested in. for instance, i should be writing a paper right now. actually, i'm in the middle of writing it and somehow got distracted by celebs on twitter (the new greatest thing known to mankind and time-sucker extraordinaire, at least in my life lately anyway) and gossip sites with pictures of celebs walking from a store to their car. why i find those things interesting, i can't say exactly, but don't lie, you love it, too.

second, i am more than half way through the spring semester, which means summer is right around the corner and that's pretty much all i can think about. even though this summer will be slightly marred by classes i'll be taking for a month, it is looking to be one of the best yet. bahamas + jobros, living at the beach, texas + dane cook + jobros, and then starting my final semester as an undergrad! madness! awesome madness! this all being the reason my brain cannot focus on the treatment of mental disorders or archaeological critiques because it's screaming, "SUMMER! FUN! ALMOST DONE WITH UNDERGRAD!" this is technically my senior year, therefore senioritis is an important and prevalent factor. i saw several people with their graduation paraphernalia today and i got a tinge, ok a massive tinge, of excitement that in less than 9 months that is going to be me walking around in my cap and gown. can you believe it?! i can still hardly. besides, the end of the semester is always the worst, too. i haven't figured out if it is always actually overloaded with work or it just feels that way because we can already smell the ocean and feel those warm sun rays. it's so close i can almost taste it!

third, i was busy preparing for italy. i've been back now for 2 weeks and still feel as though i haven't adjusted to being back. i keep expecting to wake up in the hotel room and have to be up and ready to go on another ancient exploration! it was an interesting trip, so many words come to mind: incredible, gorgeous, fun, tiring, long, did i say tiring? i meant EXHAUSTING, different, life-altering, new, thrilling. it sounds cheesy and cliche, but i really feel in some weird, indescribable way that i came back a different person. ok, maybe not a different person, but that my outlook on things has certainly changed, expanded. sarawr probably knows what i'm talking about. i have a feeling world traveling has the habit of doing that to a person. and i love it. if i got anything out of the trip, it's that, and i wouldn't trade it all back for anything. i knew there was more to the world when i visited my dad in texas, and then when i came here for school, but it's all so much more when you're surrounded by a completely new culture and people who are speaking something you barely understand while driving 90 miles an hour down side streets made of stones in cars the size of shoe boxes past buildings that are pretty much all ancient.

fourth, all of this combined has just put school as pretty much the last thing i'm concerned about. which is probably not correct or a good thing, but it's all showed me that there is SO much more to life out there than sitting in a classroom reading books you aren't all that interested in while listening to professors ramble on for an hour on that book you aren't all that interested in when you can't stop daydreaming about the next place you'll go and all the things you'll do. even not knowing where you're going to go or what you'll do, but just knowing that it's all beyond that manufactured chunk of wood called a desk that you're sitting in and you can't wait to be there!

i guess what it all comes down to is that i'm incredibly ready for "the rest of my life" to start. whatever that may mean. i want grad school and california and making my dreams happen! is that too much to ask? maybe... but that doesn't mean i'm not gonna annoy the hell outta whoever i have to asking for it.

eating tacos in our underwear

2009-02-06T10:02:00.003-05:00

All right, I'm writing this post for two reasons. The first is that I looked at my online checking account this morning and realized it hasn't been as low as it is now since July/August of 2007. And second, because I realized I go to Starbucks way too often.

Back when we first moved into the apartment we're living in now, Alicia and I (Hodges was gone for the summer, so basically it was the two of us that took on/took care of everything) had a really hard time finding a place to live (that was cheap enough for us). It was only a week before our lease ran out that we were able to find somewhere, and even though we knew about deposits and all of that sutff, I don't think we quite realized how much it was going to be, all of the deposits on top of all the bills. Because basically we had to empty our accounts.

Now I have two pretty distinct memories of this month or two when we really didn't have any money left. The first was the day when all Hodges' camp friends came down. Alicia and I had gone to the dollar store a few days before to get some things (cheap! yes!), and while we had a few cans of food in the house, there wasn't anything else. I remember sitting on the couch around six or so in the evening and it occured to me that the only thing I had eaten that day was the can of Pringles I'd been working on. And then later I went to bed with an indifferent sort of "huh"--thinking, well I ought to be hungry.

Except we weren't always so complacent about it. There was another time when the heat was just driving us crazy--remember, we were very poor so we couldn't turn on the air conditioning (actually we still don't do that, and it's something I directly attribute to these few months)--and I think we just kind of snapped. Imagine something along the lines of "I'm tired of this, it's hot and I'm hungry and baaaagghg I'm just tired of this, we're going to Taco Bell because I want to go and I'm tired of not being able to go! Let's go! Now!"

So we scraped up all the change we could all over the house and came up with just enough to buy us some Taco Bell. Now because it was dang hot, Alicia was wearing a tank top and these underwear that are long like compression shorts or boxer briefs, only shorter. And I was wearing a tank top (no bra!) and a pair of shorts I would never wear in public. And we marched straight out to her car dressed just like that, me with my bra in hand to be put on in the car. Basically we were being trashy, but I blame the heat.

And so we went through the drive-thru at Taco Bell just like that and then came back into our tiny hot apartment and sat on my bed with the fan blowing on us and watched a movie and that's about the best meal I think I've ever had. Wait, I mean party. It was party time for us in House that night.

This morning the guy at Starbucks knew my order before I told him, which means this: even though I just realized how little money I have in my account, we're not eating tacos in our underwear anymore. And while I love taking off my pants, that's a pretty neat thing.

2009-01-29T15:55:00.001-05:00

so, i should be doing my sociology for class that i have in less than 2 hours, but as usual i am seriously homework ADD and therefore thought i would come on here briefly to distract myself and let everyone know that this saturday we are giving sarawr purple hair. it is going to be glorious and i'm sure entirely blogworthy. with pictures. so get pumped for that!

oh, and if the sun doesn't return soon, i am getting in my car and driving west until i see it again. so look forward to a possible impromptu-road trip blog within the next couple of days should that occur.

love!

hello 2009!

2009-01-15T13:34:00.006-05:00

ok, admittedly, i'm a little bit late. 2 weeks late, actually, but who's counting? we're back everyone! aren't you excited? i'm excited. life just feels a little bit less meaningful when there is no blogging going on.

classes have started and as usual i've already changed my schedule around more times than a book of tickets will get you trips on the merry-go-round at six flags. and that's A LOT. i've finally settled it, besides the fact that add/drop is now over so i kind of have no choice, but i think it's going to be a decent semester. hopefully much easier, smoother sailing than the last one.

speaking of, big things planned this year, kids! in less than 2 months i'm off on my first out of the country excursion (sara has been ridiculously beating me in this arena :-P) to ROMA! ITALY! it's for a class so i'm even getting one credit for it. isn't that fabulous? i think so. then, 2 months after that i'm off on a back-to-back adventure to the BAHAMAS and road trip across the country to CALI. so pretty much between march and may i'm gonna be all over the place, traveling like 15,000 miles or something. crazy! aka AWESOME.

2009 also happens to be the year of my 21st birth, as well as sara's, and that is obviously an important milestone, albeit one that might end up not being entirely remembered, but still a milestone nonetheless. AND as if that weren't all enough, i will be GRADUATING COLLEGE this december. that's less than 12 months. like 330 days or something. now THAT is insane. i can't believe it's already that time. i feel like we were just lowly, little freshmen right out of high school, and now, here we are, on the cusp of the rest of our lives, whatever that means.

know what i'm saying? how people, usually in commencement speeches, talk about graduating as the start of the rest of our lives? as if we haven't been living our lives already these past 21 years. nope, apparently it all starts now. what "rest of our lives" really means is "real responsibility." better known as no more partying, procrastinating, or pretending we aren't adults. but i'll save all that scary "here comes the real world" stuff for later in the year. i am planning on attending graduate school, so even then it really won't be the full thing until it comes time to graduate from that. but you get the idea.

ok, i feel like i've been rambling about nothiing and everything for far too long now. it has been a while though, and you deserved a full post/life update. i need to go do some homework now. did i mention how excited i was classes started? yeah. hear the dripping sarcasm... SO excited.

have a happy new year!!

so it's beautiful and frozen outside, and i haven't felt my feet in days

2009-01-14T22:39:00.004-05:00

I just got finished reading Tim O'Brien's "How To Tell A True War Story" and right now all I want to ever read or write or have to do with words are the kinds like his. Just reading that, that's a miracle. I don't even know how to respond to it.

Except now I'm going to write a crass, pointless blog that might make a few people laugh or might just make me feel kind of stupid writing it. And I'm just a little bummed because after reading stuff like that, everything else just seems less, I don't know. Meaningful is cliche. And kind of like the story says, there is no moral. I don't know--these are just thoughts. Go read the story and get ready to be floored.

So as far as today, my friends, it was dang cold. And my cold I mean probably the lowest I experienced was about thirty (fahrenheit, of course). But to be fair, that is polar here. This is the south. It's meant to be warm, especially when the sun is out.

Now this morning I had an eight a.m. class, so I was outside at about 740 or so walking to campus and that was fine because I was bundled up in my scarf and mittens (something I rarely do). And then at 850 I turned around and walked back home so I could drive to work. And I was walking through my parking lot when I blinked and my eyes started watering a little bit and all of a sudden, my eyes fogged up. Not even kidding. They FOGGED UP for a few seconds, everything was like when you breathe out air except it was definitely the moisture in my eyes.

Well then I get in my car (TENSE SHIFT) and everything is iced over. The car actually starts without stalling out a couple of times, which is nice, but as I'm sitting there defrosting it, I decide to roll down the windows to see if any of the ice will scrape off.

Except.

The windows won't roll down! They're frozen shut!! So I drive to work and eventually I can get them down. But then four hours go by and it's a little after one and I come home. Now, it's important to note that we don't use the heat in our apartment. And that I'd been complaining all morning about being cold in the office because the thermostat was stuck at 69. And when I got to our apartment, ours was 61, which is actually a good deal warmer than it normally is when we're home, which tends to be night-time.

So I go over to the stove and turn on one of the eyes and warm up over that.

Also, in case you were wondering, the upside down bag of Marshmallow Mateys was my roommate's attempt to warm the apartment up some. She decided to cut the eye of the stove on too, only she turned the wrong one on. And lit the bag of cereal sitting on top of it on fire. Close up:

And I think that speaks enough for the conditions here =)

cheers, guys.

the most random/meandering post ever

2009-01-08T22:10:00.001-05:00

Well, I had no idea how to start this post until I logged onto AIM and saw Nicole's away message and it said:

[insert sarawr's last name]-- are you working tomorrow? movies? lemme knowwww

And I'm fairly certain that's the single greatest thing that's ever happened to me.

Now that said, I had a lot of great things happen to me over Christmas break. And I could write post after post about that but it's all sort of cheezy and, no, it doesn't involve boys. Unless you count Frodo and Gandalf when I read The Fellowship of the Ring for the first time.

So okay. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this, but I will tell you: I am never going to get married. I will be the cat lady, and this is why:

boris the cat puking

I've been watching youtube videos like this all night and I just can't stop, they're so amazing. Cats are so amazing when they throw up. Of course it's disgusting and there's something really mean about laughing uncontrollably while your cat's ribs are trying to push their way out of its mouth and its eyes are bugging, but I mean, it's completely involuntary (I say while I replay the movie thirteen times).

But not only will I be a cat lady, I think I'll have to be the kind who dresses the kitties up in doilies and bonnets and sets up the camcorder and tries to make cat-movies with them.

No, not really. What the heck am I saying?

That this is the most random blog ever and I don't know what the heck I'm saying and I'm just making stuff up about cats (except for the puking part).

I was going to blog about how this guy trying to get people to vote for Obama actually told us to, instead, vote for the person who'd eff things up the least, but the real f-word (censored so as not to expose anyone--what am I saying [again]? I didn't like either of them. Buuuh, stop talking about politics, sarawr, get out of this paranthesis). And then I was going to blog about how I drove for about a mile and a half away from the airport with my headlights off because I'm brilliant (that's almost a pun, ahahaa).

But I think what I'm going to blog about is that--I'm not sure, it's just a feeling, but--it's going to be a really good semester, a really good year even. And it's just going to keep getting bigger. I'm going to Romania for the month of July, and hopefully in a year I'll be studying abroad, and I just can't get it out of my head, but I want to go everywhere, travel the whole world. And I don't know about what's going to happen in 2009 as far as that goes, but I do know that it just feels like things are opening up. I don't know how to explain that, maybe like walking down a hallway and it's getting wider until it opens up into a courtyard. And I'm really looking forward to it, because something's going to be amazing =)

cheers.

well... back in time for 2009 wiiiiiiiiink

2008-12-31T08:39:00.004-05:00

Well, I have managed to stay up all night completely on accident and it's nearly nine (in the morning) and I'm still awake, so why not write a blog? Since I haven't written one in more than two months, and our poor blog has nearly died, Nicole writing hopeful posts every so often, but it's like this: when I fall off the planet, I can't find it again for another three months.

HOWEVER.

It's the new year, and this is what we do. I want to write once a week--more if I like, sure, but at least once a week. Next semester will probably be as crazy as the last for me, but in a different way, although not only do I mean to blog, I mean to do my homework.

So this is not much of a post at all, but it's New Years Eve and it's the south, so craziness will ensue, which means I'll be blogging soon enough. It's good to be back =)

cheers.

obligatory november post

2008-11-30T23:25:00.004-05:00

oh blog... our poor little blog. it's been over a month since anyone has shown you any love. i should be doing hw, but i thought of you and how there wasn't even one single post in november, and i couldn't let that happen. it's almost december, after all. how sad! i don't know where we've been. just a crazy month, lots of things happening, i suppose. hopefully we will return to you soon! if not, i fear the pants may remain stolen, never to be returned...

:-(

perez hilton -- a blogging icon

2008-10-10T00:05:00.007-04:00

it's 12am on friday morning and i am weirdly wide awake and decided i wanted to blog. sadly, besides the fact that sam waterson from law and order was on my plane back from charlotte to wilmington, i have no interesting information to give. so, i thought, hmm... what were sara and i just hysterically laughing about thursday afternoon? that would be something good to talk about.

well, we were, of course, brought to tears by none other than the fabulous perez hilton. for those of you less media savvy and up-to-date on your hollywood gossip bloggers, perez is the genius behind perezhilton.com (whose blog is listed at the bottom right of our blog under possible pant thieves you should check out--and yes, you should check it out), where he posts pics and news bits about anyone and everyone that calls themself a celebrity.

sara and i can't decide why we love him more--our shared hate of miley cyrus or how he calls zac efron 'zacquisha,' or any of the other reasons he is hilariously amazing. and i personally share his adoration of a certain musically-inclined trio of brothers from jersey - OJD!! sara knows that i'm slowly fostering the love of them in her, too. because come on, they are just so dang cute, how can you not? but i digress, this is not another post about my OJD, this is about the awesomeness that is perez.

he speaks his mind, which is often the truth and opinions that others have but might not be as inclined to share, and we respect him for that. he is, after all, a king amongst bloggers, whose own celebrity we can only dream of acheiving. though he is loved by many and hated by some, no one can begrudge him the fact that he has managed to turn his little gossip column into a phenonemon that is referenced in tv shows, magazines, and has earned him his own tv slot. all that talk about celebrities has turned him into one! *insert jealously here*

so, here's to you, perez: keep doin' your thang, girlfriend! we'll be reading. much love <3

you know it's time to clean when...

2008-10-05T17:37:00.002-04:00

About twenty minutes ago, I was sitting on my couch completely and totally relaxing, not doing anything at all, which is basically the most amazing thing in the world when you don't ever get to do it (or if you're doing it instead of very pressing homework). Which, apart from hanging out with friends, has been most all of what I've done this weekend (and it has been fabulous).

But anyway, this post is about Kids Say The Darndest Things.

So like I said, was chilling on the couch. And then I hear that fast, insistent, incessant knocking--the way kids who don't know proper knocking etiquette knock. I don't know, whatever, it's annoying. And I figured it was some kids, there have been a few times when they've come over offering to take out the trash for a dollar. Which is fine, and it's sort of cute and if I'd had more than two neighbors within half a mile when I was a kid, I probably would have done the same thing.

Anyway, I went to the door, and it was the kids. Well, I didn't have any cash on me, but I felt bad so I went to see if I had any chocolate bars or anything and I didn't, but I ended up giving them some other candy. But while I was looking, one of the little girls sticks her head in and goes, "Daaang y'all house is dirty."

I'm not a big emoticon person (at least while blogging), but the one that fits this exactly is: -_-

And the truth is, our house is pretty trashed. Basically it's uninhabitable.

But it gets better. I went outside a few minutes later to grab something out of my car and there are the little girls again. We're talking six and seven years old, by the way. And we started talking again for a few minutes and they were asking all those questions kids ask. As follows:

"How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"Oh wow, you're... young!"
"I don't know, I'm kind of old..."
"Do you have a son?"
"No--"
"Do you have a daughter?"
"No, I--"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No."
Pause.
And the other girl said, "No life, huh?"

Uh--what the heck?? Seriously? Okay.

Well they are silly kids and while I totally disagree and don't even get me started on why being single is actually great right now and the Christian culture (or culture in general, I don't know) puts way too much pressure on getting married and all that, and honestly I do not want to get married five minutes after I graduate. Great for people who do, I just think, as they say, I only have now now. And there's a lot I won't be able to do when I get married so I want to make sure I get to do all the things I want to first. If that makes sense.

Anyway, I didn't actually get that freaked out and mostly I thought it was funny and cute when they said it. And that wow, haha, kids will just say it. And then I told them to go a few doors down (to the roommate's boyfriend's apartment) and knock on his door and try to get his trash. And, not even kidding, when they were describing who sent them, they totally described us as the people with the 'real messy house.'

october is the best month ever

2008-10-01T15:22:00.003-04:00

should be pretty self-explanatory, but let me elaborate.

october is the best month ever because of the following:

1. it holds the highly esteemed, revered, and celebrated date of birth of one the world's greatest living treasures--me.
2. the last day of the month goes out in inimitable style with free candy and costumes and parties and spirits roaming the earth! what more could you ask for! and finally...
3. the much desired and awesomely timed fall break occurs here as well, giving us poor, tired, worn out students a very deserved break in the middle of the semester.

not to mention that this year, the release of the highly-anticipated (not just to me, ask anyone) HSM3 is oct. 24... even better for october's clout!!

fall gets into full swing here, too, so the leaves are changing all kinds of crimsons, tangerines, and butterscotches. and the weather is finally starting to cool down. there are hayrides and leaf-pile-jumping and trips to the pumpkin patch!

i mean, honestly, when does any other time of the year offer so much? that's right, none.

tomorrow it is off to jersey for me. the forecast for both flying dates claims sunny skies, so hopefully there will be no delays or missed flights. i will try my hardest to find some crazy people in the airport yelling at their kids or running to catch their plane in high heels and a mini skirt for me to blog about next week when i get back.

safe breaks, everyone, and happy october!! :-D

there's nothing better than the sound of laughter, except maybe...

2008-09-29T09:49:00.002-04:00

And three weeks later, she writes... do you see? If I've ever said on here (I know I've said other places) that I'm cyclical, let this be evidence to that. In the next week or two, I'll probably write four or five posts, and then I'll fall off the planet again leaving poor Nicole holding it up without me, although she's done a fantastic job. (She's like Atlas, isn't that cool? No shrugging, though. And I know, I'm lame--but Ayn Rand is a crazy person.)

Actually, speaking of lame, oh man I amaze myself. So I could live off of bad puns. This is why Tim Bass completes my life. Today, I got back from my lunch break during work, and I'd gotten pretty hot driving around in the car (that's important, I'm not just telling you). Well, I came inside, set my stuff down in my office, and then decided I had to use the bathroom. After I came out of the stall, I was walking up to the sink to wash my hands and saw in the mirror how red my face was from the heat and said out loud: "WOW I'm flushed."

Teehee.

Okay, but it gets better than puns.

This weekend I went on a retreat with Intervarsity and on the way there I rode with Alicia, her boyfriend, friend Jamie, and other friend Nathan (not Ned, if anyone remembers his butter post). We stopped at KFC on the way there to eat, and let me tell you, we spent the whole however long we were in there cracking up. And we were loud, oh man. Basically I was dying, couldn't breathe from laughter, Alicia couldn't quit snorting, and Jamie laughing is an event in and of itself.

Now you should know we were laughing at this sort of thing: Nathan unwrapped his snacker, spread it out all girly with pinkies out. And then a few seconds later grabs his belly and says, "Guys, I really shouldn't be eating this." How old are we? Surely twelve. Because that sent me into convulsions, and everyone else sort of followed. And I was convinced everyone in the dining area wanted to yell at us, but we were enjoying ourselves and apparently we weren't the only ones enjoying us.

BECAUSE. About five minutes before we left, this guy came up to our booth in the corner and said,

"I just wanted to let you guys know that the sound of your laughter in here made my night."

Pause. Aw, thank you. You have a wonderful night sir. Those sorts of thoughts, and I think we started to say them. We smiled at least, got at the thank yous. But then he continued,

"There's nothing better than the sound of laughter, except maybe sex and laughter."

Uh. That guy just went there. Seriously? Well I don't know, and none of the rest of us have any idea, but that guy was convinced. Man sex and laughter, that's where it's AT! (That is, man! the exclamation, comma, sex and laughter. Not man sex like man-sex. Just to be clear.) And then he sort of creepily backed away and walked out, only to walk right past us a second later (outside, through the window) blowing kisses at us.

So I guess I'm glad we made his night. And even now I have no idea how to respond to that. Except that I want to pick at the sentence and wonder if he meant the sound of laughter while having sex? Or the sound of laughter and the sound of sex, because then it just gets even worse. I'm seeing this man living in his apartment complex with a glass cup pressed to the wall with his ear pressed to the glass, listening.

let's talk about freshmen

2008-09-25T22:33:00.020-04:00

those 12 year old looking, overstuffed backpack wearing, "where is S&B?" asking, born in 1990, all over everywhere can't escape from freshmen. yeah, you know who i'm talking about...

they don't even have to wear their typical teal t-shirts with the big "ORIENTATION 2008" stamped on their backs to alert us to the fact they are, indeed, first year students. but of course, they do anyway... usually because this early on it's probably the only UNCW-related clothing item they have (unless they're one of the chosen few whose parents bought them a sweatshirt or hat when they came for a tour while they were still in high school or as they were here for orientation in the summer..."here you go, bobby! wear this UNCW shirt and soak up some seahawk pride before you even get accepted!").

you can't NOT notice them even if you wanted to. they walk around shouting "CLASS OF 2012!" while still wearing their "CLASS OF 2008" high school t-shirts. please just go around yelling, "CLASS OF 2012 INFANTS!" it's more accurate and much more amusing for the rest of us. man, 2012... seems light years away. we'll be graduating from grad school by the time these kids make it outta here. let's hope the mayan end of the world comes before they're set loose into life. they're who'll be running the country with and after us? lord help us all! they'll probably end up with miley cyrus as president. and her alter ego hannah montana as VP. they want the best of both worlds!

it doesn't help matters that UNCW let in an inordinate amount this year, resorting to triple occupancy rooms in certain dorms... that's right... TRIPLE. *flashback to freshman year when you remember being stuffed into that 2x4 over-sized closet with some random person you'd never met before in your life -cringe- now imagining it with a THIRD random person taking up what little closet space you already had, not to mention general breathing room -double cringe-*

there are two kinds of freshmen: the shy, quiet ones who walk to class with their head down and sadly :-( sit alone in wag when not awkwardly going with their roommate, afraid to say something aka anything that would make them come off as the scared and unprepared froshie that they are; and then there is the egotistical, still think they're seniors in high school, know someone who goes to the college already, i'm-in-college-now-and-have-more-freedom-than-i-know-what-to-do-with-so-i-think-i'm-really-cool-and-need-to-let-the-world-know-it-so-they-don't-think-i'm-the-scared-and-unprepared-froshie-that-i-am freshmen.

let's be honest here, kids. both of those just end up screaming "I'M A FRESHMAN! WHAT DO I DO WITH MYSELF?!" to the point that you might as well walk around with "2012" stamped on your forehead, just to make things a little bit clearer. but like i said, we already know you're a freshman anyway, could smell the unmistakable mix of fear, naivete, and angst on ya from all the way down the other end of chancellor's, so don't freak out and lock yourself in your dorm room, we won't actually make you do that.

i mentioned they were born in 1990, right? 1990! i mean, come on! they can't even pretend to the remember the eighties like us 1987 and 1988er's do because they weren't even ALIVE. while we were running off to kindergarten, they were still learning how to walk and use the potty. the Power Rangers weren't even Mighty Morphin' anymore by the time they got around to watching TV besides barney! i don't know if that statement just made me more feel like i'm pushing granny status or that the freshman are even younger than i thought (tell me, is it pampers or huggies that are the better at protecting against diaper rash these days?).

and it's true. i'll admit it. we were all freshmen at one point. in fact, we're freshmen twice counting high school, which was basically the same scenario, except we were big-headed, 13 year old, just 8th graders aka kings and queens of the middle school, so of course we were even more awkward and terrified then. but let's admit this, too...we were never THAT awkward and small and all over the place. i'm barely 5 feet and i feel like at any moment i could step on one of them and that'd be the end of that!

but i digress. my goal here is not to froshie bash. well...ok...maybe a little (don't deny it, you love and do it, too). my point is this: chin up, kids, because we're all essentially awkward. you all just happen to be a lot more awkward than any of us upperclassman are at the moment, but it's really just because we've learned to hide it better. and hey, in less than a year you'll already be sophomores and YOU'LL be the ones froshie bashing, swearing on your lives that you were never that weird and managed to be both a freshman and cool. uh...yeah, keep telling yourselves that...

(but us upperclassmen as freshmen? yeah, sorry, we actually were that cool.)

good luck, class of 2012!

not everyone loves the jonas brothers

2008-09-13T12:36:00.008-04:00

And I quote from WauwatosaNOW in Wisconsin:

"Pop idol comment leads to boy popping off

Not everyone loves the Jonas brothers.

A 17-year-old Brookfield boy was arrested for disorderly conduct in Mayfair Mall, 2500 N. Mayfair Road, after defending his non-Jonas-like appearance.

According to police:

Mall security watched as the boy, seemingly walking alongside a 17-year-old West Bend boy, turned and hit the other boy with a closed fist about 4:30 p.m. Tuesday. The West Bend boy fell backward into a store display.

When mall security intervened, the victim said while in GameStop, he told the Brookfield boy that he resembled a Jonas brother, a music group popular with young, teenage girls.

Offended by the comment, the Brookfield boy followed the West Bend boy outside of the store, struck a fighting pose and told him to say it again to his face. When the West Bend boy walked away, he attacked him.

He told police he overreacted to being called a Jonas brother. He suspected his attention deficit disorder was responsible for his poor decision."

absolutely HILARIOUS. i love people. only in America, folks...

that thing about music i was going on about earlier

2008-09-07T13:20:00.004-04:00

[Note: this post is actually taken from a letter I wrote to an old friend about two weeks ago, a small part of which I've already posted. I've edited some out, but I haven't really rewritten any of it, so if there are parts that address or reference a person or a thing and it isn't ever actually explained, that's why. The point of this anyway is music, and that's all you really need to know, because I'm not sure much other than music makes sense.]

I saw Prince Caspian again the other night, and honestly, I'd forgotten how much I love movie music sometimes. And it is absolutely incredible. Now this is important for two reasons. First, there's only one other thing that gets me the way amazing music like this does, and that's equally amazing writing, and even then it's different (I think music is more pure--while with writing, you do get those moments, but there's more sorting through the parts that aren't as emotionally wrought as the rest).

This listening to a clip of "Arrival at Aslan's How" from the soundtrack: Good writing should be like good music. It builds, it lifts, it moves in you, and when it's finished, you go back to it again and again, a reaching hand in the dark for a thing you can't see or hear or fully understand or really even articulate, the kind you can only feel, the kind you only want to feel. And so you fall into it, turn it up, let yourself be moved to somewhere only it can bring you.

That music is incredible, and I want to write words like Harry Gregson-Williams writes music. It's funny I say that too, wanting to write like he composes. The same is true of Hans Zimmer (especially) and John Williams. And you'll know more about this than I do, but the thing the three of them seem to me to have in common is that they all have a knack for writing music full of "heroic grandeur" and "lyrical and heroic themes" (quotes from a description of the Caspian score), and really I just have a soft spot for that kind of thing. I'll go on all day about hope, and I love the beautiful, lyrical things that just build and fill you up and I'm doing a bad job of explaining, but you know the feeling in the music that I mean. I'm missing it with words, I can't quite reach it. But listen to that track, to music like that that's big and beautiful and swells and reaches and does the same thing looking into the sky or even particularly emotional worship does.

What I mean--I think--is this: music like this does something only music like this can do, and it only ever leaves you wanting more of it. In writing, if you're good enough, you can have the reader feeling what you feel, some strong emotion. In music, specifically in the Caspian soundtrack for example--the first time I saw that movie I cried through the whole thing and I'm not making that up (really I'm just a big softy, but don't tell anyone =p). And it wasn't just the fact that the movie was big and noble and amazing and made me wish things were like how they were in the movie, and it wasn't just that this whole living in a world we don't belong in thing is actually real, that every day we're fighting for Christ's kingdom the way Peter and all of the Pevensie children fought for Narnia--all of that's true, but the music embodied it and every time I listen to it it's all I know.

You and I have always been so alike, and I think this is what it is. We both understand and love all of this (in the knowing and feeling way), we're both moved and floored by big things like this, and we're both going to, one day, and with any luck, make music and writing that gets at those things. I'm thinking right now of a quote Tristan's got on his facebook (and so the circle is completed, haha, since it was only ever the three of us in high school nerdy enough to go on about all this) by C. S. Lewis:

"When I attempted, a few minutes ago, to describe our spiritual longings, I was omitting one of their most curious characteristics. We usually notice it just as the moment of vision dies away, as the music ends, or as the landscape loses the celestial light. What we feel then has been well described by Keats as 'the journey homeward to the habitual self.' You know what I mean. For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We are mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. We have not been accepted, welcomed, or taken into the dance. We may go when we please, we may stay if we can. 'Nobody marks us.'....The sense that in this universe we are treated as strangers, the longings to be acknowledged, to meet with some response, to bridge some chasm that yawns between us and reality, is part of our inconsolable secret."

This is exactly what I'm talking about, except I'm absolutely crazy sentimental and tenderhearted and probably very foolish, and so I prefer not to think about the fact that the beauty he's talking about is going to turn away, or that we're going to fall away from the feeling we get when we see (or hear) those beautiful things. As always, I'm only ever thinking words like always, like I can keep things I know I can't, that things can stay forever the way, even though I know they shouldn't, I'd like them too. It's like with Colombia--I could never have kept it, the way everything felt while I was there. It felt that way precisely because it was impermanent, the way, to use an awfully cliche example, shooting stars are only beautiful because they burn out so brightly and quickly. The nature of the thing keeps it from being an ''always'' or an ''only ever,'' and I know this, this is rational, but like I said, I prefer to think that maybe we keep things like that forever just because they're so amazing while they last that I'd rather just forget they end and totally immerse myself before, like C. S. Lewis was talking about, we go back to the habitual self.

But there's also something very real in those moments in music. Lasting? Maybe not, I'm not sure, but you can return to it, make your own small beautiful thing. Turn it up till it's all there is.

the road

2008-09-06T15:29:00.003-04:00

Not the book by Cormac McCarthy. But you should read that.

No, I mean the streets of Wilmington and all the craziness they usually cause/result in/otherwise take part in in some way or another. So yesterday, lame lame tropical storm Hanna came through and didn't actually do much of anything, but people were freaking out. Which I don't understand, because this is the coast, and apart from the college students, people here (should) have been through hurricanes before so they (should) know that a tropical storm or a category one hurricane is basically just an excuse to have a party, maybe park your car somewhere else if you live in one of the (many) areas in Wilmington where it floods every time rains. But people hear the words tropical depression and forming off the coast of Africa and suddenly there are two loaves of bread and one gallon of milk left in the whole store. But what I'm getting at is that it ALSO affects people's ability to drive (normally), mine included (I'm loving these parentheses today and I don't know why, it's sort of annoying me as I write).

First, when I went to work yesterday morning, I left about an hour later to go out and grab some breakfast. And on the way to food, I pulled up behind this woman in a Mazda X-something another--anyway, it was a little red convertible with the top down. Mind you, it's misting outside, or whatever you call that thing it does when it's not quite sprinkling, but there's definitely a mist of water falling. And she had in her left hand an American flag. She was holding that thing straight up in the air, and I was behind her for at least a mile and a half, maybe two miles. And to top that, we sat at a light for five minutes. I KNOW her arm was getting tired, she didn't let her arm down or switch arms or rest in any way. And I don't why the heck she was doing it, that's why it was so weird. I mean, maybe she was evacuating and wanted people to follow her? Maybe she couldn't hook it in her window with the top down and, well, couldn't bear to not fly it? Or maybe she just really, really, really loves the states.

And then, then. There is this huge smudge on the inside of my windshield that's only visible at night, particularly in the glare. Well, after prancing around in the wind and rain and lake-puddles last night, we decided to go out and find some energy drinks for all night staying-uppage (I know, I know. You don't have to say it). Once we got the drinks, we were right by campus and one of our friends needed to get something from her apartment so we headed in that direction. At that point, it had started to rain fairly heavily--at least hard enough that, already basically having to stick my head out the window like the Joker just to see anything, I had no idea which way car was even pointing. It was bad. I'm so glad there weren't many cars out there or I'm certain I would have gotten into an accident. BECAUSE, right as we were about to make the left into her apartment area, well--I couldn't really see the left, and it looked like the two lane kind of road that's divided by a grass median, so I tried to go on the other side of the grass. Except it was a regular undivided road, so I turned into where there was a sidewalk and a sign and lots of grass instead of pavement. With someone behind me and another person approaching the intersection, but of them assuredly thinking I was drunk. So while I promise I drive well (if a bit aggressively), I've pretty much proved to everyone that I can't. It was great though, I completely missed the road.

And that was pretty much the most exciting things Hanna brought. It was a little disappointing, to be honest. But I grew up on the coast for all the hurricanes in the '90s, so I admit I'm a little biased, wanting another Fran to hit and all. I woke up for the worst of it around three this morning, and the trees were tossing around a good amount, the security light going on and off. Not much lightning, which is weird, because it wasn't forecast and I remember very distinctly there being almost constant lightning in all the bigger hurricanes I went through as a kid. Maybe we'll get a big one this year? Or next?

But now. Back to the homework I'm not doing. cheers.

thank you, hurricane hanna!

2008-09-04T14:42:00.003-04:00

ok, so technically i don't have classes on fridays anyway...but for all those that do, i know there is campus wide rejoicing going on, as the eminent hurricane or tropical storm or w/e hanna has decided to be at the moment has cancelled classes for tomorrow. crazy amounts of rain and wind and maybe even a tornado or two are predicted.

my thoughts? everyone is blowing this whole thing out of proportion and it's gonna be a minor snafu. all i really care about is that the soccer game is cancelled tomorrow, so i don't have to go to work! yess!! i have every intention of not leaving the apartment all weekend, should there be such a storm, and reading and watching DVD seasons of my tv shows. good plan? i thought so.

everyone take care this weekend and stay safe! happy hurricaning! :)

because sometimes i'm rude and tacky

2008-09-03T13:40:00.003-04:00

I may not be a very big Obama fan, but I think he handled this pretty impressively:

(quoted from an article on CNN)

"'Let me be as clear as possible,' Obama said. 'I think people's families are off-limits, and people's children are especially off-limits. This shouldn't be part of our politics. It has no relevance to Gov. Palin's performance as governor or her potential performance as a vice president.'

Obama said reporters should 'back off these kinds of stories' and noted that he was born to an 18-year-old mother.

'How a family deals with issues and teenage children, that shouldn't be the topic of our politics, and I hope that anybody who is supporting me understands that's off-limits.'"

I stand put in my place.

puns, politics, and mccain is digging his grave

2008-09-02T20:00:00.005-04:00

1. I broke my car key off--my titatium key, the one that's probably thirteen years old but is also as heavy as half a roll of quarters--in my car door. I've got a picture, but it's on my new phone, and I still haven't figured out how to get it off yet.

2. At work Sunday, the golf cart we were driving to the soccer game (which we won, by the way, and it was incredible, very movie-like-intense) decided to run out of battery. But mind you, it only ran out of battery in forward. SO I got to drive about a third of way to the soccer field in REVERSE. Basically that's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Things like that only ever happen to us.

3. I'm sure I'm already forgetting some.

4. On a more serious note, I had a conversation in Spanish with a guy from Central America and although I honestly spoke pretty badly, apart from one question, it was completely in Spanish and I swear I got a rush from it.

5. And oh man THE PUNS! Really, you can skip the rest of this post and just read the puns. One by the great and wondrous Tim Bass and the other by me. Both brilliance.

Expanded version below:

1. All right. So this is what happened. Got off work (secretary job, not the concessions job) at one, headed out to my car to leave. Now, my key is pretty big. So sometimes I don't get it all the way in the lock before turning it just because the thing is so long, and it doesn't turn--but it's not anything at all, I just make sure it's in all the way and the car opens, easy enough. Well, that's what happened, it wasn't all the way in before I turned it. Except all of a sudden my wrist kept turning and my arm had pulled away from the door. And I just looked at my key in disbelief. That thing is pretty dang solid. Or was, I don't know.

So after I pulled out the piece of the key that was stuck in the lock (apparently, lucky for me, I was able to save about $200 doing that), I got a ride, got my spare from Alicia, and then went over to the Nissan dealership. First, they charged me $9 for a new copy of my key, which I was a bit upset about, but while waiting for them, two amazing things happened:

Had my conversation in Spanish with another guy waiting who had overheard me rocking out to Maná (band from Mexico), and it really just reinforces me wanting to go to a Spanish speaking country(ies) this summer. For at least two months. The other three or four weeks shall be designated to visiting friends who go far away for the summer (very sad face). I'm going to be fluent in Spanish, it's only a matter of how long, and that's it.

Best thing ever though--when I told the guy who worked for Nissan that I'd broken the key and showed it to him, he and his coworker looked from me to the key and back again with looks on their faces that absolutely said: "How in God's name did she do that??" I still have no idea. Complete disbelief. Only word for it.

2. Pretty much self explanatory. We drove the golf cart for at least two minutes in reverse. It was a rush, let me tell you. And oh man, I even backed it through a fence and up next to the concessions stand and dodged a bicylcer coming straight for me. All while weighed down by all our stuff, going downhill in the mud, a thunderstorm looming overhead. It was a feat, wish you'd been there to laugh with us =).

3&4. Turns out I did, and see number one. Actually, we'll use these for the conversation I just had with my roommate's boyfriend, Scott. So we're talking about McCain, and no offense to any McCain supporters (this does not mean I'm an Obama fan either--and I did choose to use the word fan instead of supporter for a reason) but oh man. Okay, so we're talking about how basically things just keep getting worse and worse for him in terms of winning the presidency. First, Sarah Palin. And her pregnant teenage daughter. This is bad because she voted for abstinence only sex education, and I don't know whether or not I agree with her on that or not, but sucks for her image that her daughter's pregnant now. And also, about six months ago she voted to slash funding for homes for pregnant teens.

And then there's the fact that McCain is really the walking dead. Scott was telling me about how everytime he forgets what his stance on a particular political subject is (yes, he forgets--possibly the alzheimer's?) first, to state that he did in fact forget, and then to say that his stance is whatever the president's is. Does he know what Bush's approval rating is?? Are you serious?? How does that help him in anyway whatsoever? So then I said that he's just digging his grave deeper and deeper. Ah-hah, because he's so old, I love it.

5. And now for the (intended) puns:

Tim Bass (greatest professor in the entire world--literally, you will cry from laughter the entire class, every single time. And you'll learn a lot and be slightly intimidated, but mostly just be in awe of the wit) walked into another class of mine before it started a few days ago, and one of the students had brought brownies to class, so another says, "Hey Tim, you want a brownie?"

He waits for a second, gets that mischiefy smile on his face, and responds, "If you were offering me Indian food, I'd accuse you of trying to curry favor!" Teheheheee.

And second one. I was having a conversation about music with a friend of mine, and he started talking about ska. So I said that was cool, did he mean like Five Iron Frenzie, that kind of thing? He did, and then started naming a few bands, so I asked if he'd heard of Enter the Haggis. He hadn't, so I told him that he should definitely listen to them, that they were awesome, that they weren't your typical ska (ie Five Iron Frenzy), but they were still ska-ish. Oh yessss, I said it.

=) it's been a good week.
cheers.

only (incredible) soundtracks and (extraordinary) writing ever do this to me

2008-08-25T15:46:00.001-04:00

This listening to a clip of "Arrival at Aslan's How" from The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian:

Good writing should be like good music. It builds, it lifts, it moves in you, and when it's finished, you go back to it again and again, a reaching hand in the dark for a thing you can't see or hear or fully understand or really even articulate, the kind you can only feel, the kind you only want to feel. And so you fall into it, turn it up, let yourself be moved to somewhere only it can bring you.

i am never going to sleep

2008-08-22T01:07:00.002-04:00

i took an at least 2 hour nap today from 4-6, then proceeded to lay around and fall in and out of sleep until about...10??

it is now 1:08am and i am tired, yet weirdly awake and feel the need to keep finding things to do.

i've looked over all my pictures on my computer, checked my e-mail 35498 times, submitted to atlantis, looked up tons of nonsense with google, played 7825 songs on my ipod, and am now here writing a pointless blog.

at least i don't have class tomorrow, so if i end up not falling asleep until 5am, it's ok because i don't have to get up in 4 hours and walk all the way to kenan. speaking of, somewhere between the union and SLB1 are two syllabuses (syllabi??) from my ANT 207 and ENG/FST 317 class that i managed to already lose 5 minutes after i left them, so if anyone spots those floating around chancellor's walk, you know to whom they belong.

ok, i'm gonna watch a movie or something and hope i can regress to how i felt at 4pm and just pass out. wish me luck!

note to self: never do this again.

drivers of the world...

2008-08-20T21:32:00.004-04:00

This is a public service annoucement. The roads, from this moment on, will be a safer (or much more dangerous) place. I've just gotten a new phone, and it's got a keypad, which, ironically, means it's much harder for me to text now. And what that really means for me is this: no more texting and driving.

Actually I hardly ever did it. I could probably count on my hand the number of times I've actually done it, and mostly I tried to keep it at the stoplights, and since our city is mostly stoplights and stopped traffic, it stays fairly safe. But at least for now, until I get very, very used to my phone, all's safe.

Not really much to say, although you should go see Tropic Thunder, because it's amazing hilariousness. Having lived two years of my life with a black family, there's something really funny about white people who think they're black. Maybe it's because it's so ridiculous, and maybe it's because I know very well about the things they're imititating or whatever--sort of like those ''you know you're from wherever when" things--and of course it's a generality and of course it's exaggerated, but it's got some truth to it somewhere and it is just hilarious to me. And besides, I love my black family--and in my heart of hearts, I know how much cooler/more rhythmic they are than us (BY THE WAY I'm white) and I know I can't touch it, so (can't touch this, can't touch this, it's hammertime).

(insert: go Jamaican dude who just set the world record for the 200m. Dang he's fast.)

But nuff about race stuff. 'Cause please see my post about the Olympics, and apply here, and understand that I think it's silly to be colorblind, that we can be one people and not all be exactly the same, and it's wonderful how we're not.

And OH MAN, speaking of white people who think they're black--happy early birthday to Bo Burnham because he is also awesome hilariousness and I love it! Everyone please go listen to 3.14 Apple Pi and I'm Bo Yo and laugh until you can't breathe. You'll thank me for it later, I promise =).

cheers.

...this blog ain't big enough for the both of us...

2008-08-17T23:46:00.004-04:00

so...has anyone noticed that there seems to only be one of us that gets around to blogging at a time?

who's in colombia...or just busy...or working immensely... or trying to unpack their life again...

honestly, why has there been such a long time from when there were posts one right after another and lovely little comments left on each other's blog??

*sigh* this depresses me.

hopefully once school picks up things will get back to normal... otherwise i fear the fate of the stolen pants!

addendum: more feet in the mouth

2008-08-17T21:08:00.004-04:00

Meant to put this in the last entry but I was watching ER and forgot. However, it was the best one of the night, so I can't possibly leave it out =).

First, it's important to tell you that I have a crazy strong sense of smell. Actually, it's probably no stronger than most people's, but I'm really sensitive to smells, and I can almost always smell if something is there. Except sometimes I get them switched up, like, for some reason, when I smell popcorn popping, it always smell like a ham and cheese biscuit to me. No idea why. It's gonna be horrible/probably pretty humorous when I'm pregnant. I'll be walking down the bread aisle at Wal-mart (which always seems to be right near the seafood section) smelling bread mixed with fish and I'll probably just throw up right there.

Well, during the soccer game last night, I went outside and stood by the window where customers order so I could cool off. And I kept smelling what smelled like dog poop, and it was nasty. Now, earlier, some grown woman came up with her dog-child (you know those women who treat their pets like kids?) and asked for a plastic bag and I figured she needed to pick up after the dog, but I also figured it was somewhere on the other side of the stadium and didn't think any more of it. And, just saying, pets aren't allowed into the stadium. But like I said, after she took the bag I didn't think any more of it.

So there I was, standing in front of the stand and there was this horrible smell and I just couldn't contain it, so I turned to Greg was like, "GOD something smells NASTY. I keep smelling crap, I know I smell it. UGGHGHG, what is that?" And so on like that. So Greg says, "I know what it is." And, overhearing, the rewards program staff standing about twenty feet away nodded. Since I couldn't see the thing he was pointing at, he had me take x steps forward, y steps right, a little farther, a little farther, until I was standing right in front of the place that, apparently, the dog had taken a dump. About eight feet from the stand, and completely in the space where people line up.

First, that dog was tiny--fit in your purse tiny. Second, the place it had gone was like four inches wide, which is at least three inches bigger than the rest of the dog. And third, retarded woman really did not clean it up all that well. She'd, like, scraped the top layer off the grass or something, but she'd left a fair amount behind. But like I said, I am sensitive to smells, so when I walked back to the stand and could still smell it, I had to do something. So I found a cone from last year, one of those little bitty cones that people sometimes use for megaphones. Grabbed it and put it on top of the spot. Problem solved, couldn't really smell it much anymore.

Well, it gets better. There was a little three or so year old boy running around who kept trying to drive off with our golf cart. Cute kid, apart from that. And all of a sudden, I look over and Greg is laughing and pointing out the window. Little boy had the same cone, holding it to his mouth yelling through it (don't worry, it was the end that wasn't on the ground). So I ran over, the best I could without falling over from laughing, and grabbed the cone from him.

Later some staff from the athletics department cleaned it up and put dirt over it. But the smell was still there, and occasionally it was awful. Come to find out, the smartest (and most considerate) pet-owner on the planet ever had taken the half of the poop she'd picked up and put it in the trash can right next to the concession stand. The same trashcan right next to the window that the hotdogs were just inside of. Worst thing ever.

So I know sometimes I just let the worst things fall out of my mouth and I don't even know why I talk at all, but oh man I hope that woman heard me. And if nothing else, she provided a very entertaining evening =).

Anyway, I would also just like to say that several months ago, our creative writing department sent out one of their emails about different places accepting submissions, and one was a magazine calling for stories about wolflore and fairytales and that sort of thing. And it just so happened that about a month before that I'd had to write my own version of Little Red Ridinghood for my English class. It was just one of those things I'd done the night before it was due. Really straightforward, the girl wore a red jacket with a hood, she was visiting her grandma, etc. The story was cute, I guess, but had little real depth and I would never workshop it in a writing class, so I just sort of sent it in because of the coincidence and didn't really care because I know I can do a heck of a lot better and just whatever. One of those "shrug, what the heck" kinds of things.

Well, I heard back today from the editor. Now, the magazine is really small I think--the guy has a facebook and added me. And I didn't get the story in, which I expected. He said the things I thought would be issues, about it being really straightforward, etc. But he wants me to revise it for publication. Which is really cool, I'm pretty excited about it. But thing the thing I'm really, really happy about is this: the response he sent me. Whether he had flat out told me they didn't want the story or if they told me it was the most amazing thing they ever read, the fact that he sent me a personal email--and not just a few sentences. This email was five or six very long paragraphs long, full of suggestions and advice and thoughts about the story. That just amazes me. Like I said, I know it's small, so I suppose he has more time to send out personal messages like that, but the fact that he did, only that he did. I got from him as much as I would get from any professor whose job it is to do that. And I think that's wonderful. I wish all editors were/were able to be like that, and I hope that if I ever decide to become an editor that I could be that kind, and doubly so if I ever teach, which I hope to.

But right now, I'm getting dizzy again and I don't know why, so time to end the post.

cheers.

open mouth, insert foot

2008-08-16T22:15:00.003-04:00

I am absolutely the all-time leading ruler ever of putting my foot in my mouth. Honestly, it's awful--funny later, but pretty bad when it happens because when I do it, it's one of those really horrible awkward ones and I never mean to do it but combined with not always thinking before I speak and being a bit uncensored with those kind of things anyway, things just kind of go down that way. So. Twice, just today.

First, we were in the dining hall on campus getting ready to go volunteer to move in tiny freshmens. And while we were waiting this woman came up to us and she was showing us her shoes. They're Rainbows, but they're teal. Apparently some guy who now works for the Ellen Degeneres Show convinced the company to make them in teal specifically for our school, which is cool, except for the first thing I thought when I saw them was oh God those are ugly. Now, I thought twice, decided not to say I thought they were ugly, and then asked if they were real leather (looked like the rubbery shower shoe kind). Come to find out later, that woman was the chancellor of our university. Would have been fabulous if I'd told Rosemary DePaoulo her shoes were not workin'.

And then later, I was working concessions and it was about eight thousand degrees in the wooden shed box we work in. So, called my roommate, she brought me some shorts and flipflops so I wouldn't die, but by the time she did, we were pretty busy. Before, I was just going to kick out my coworker (he's probably in his late thirties, I don't know) and change real quick before anyone could see, but since we were so busy couldn't close the stand for a minute, and I didn't have time to run to a port-o-potty or anything. But I just figured I could change in there, we could manage. So without really thinking I told the customer that I'd be back, I had to change. And Alicia, who was with me, who shielded me while I took my pants off with the door to the stand open and Greg serving customers, said, "Man that's so unsanitary." And I realized it totally is. I don't know how I'd feel if I knew the person handing me my hotdog was standing next to the hotdogs not wearing pants a minute ago.

And all that is just a fraction of how off the wall things have been lately. Craziness, crazy day. And everything's just starting, so here goes.

(p.s. I told you I never wear pants.)