TV Best Friends

I watch a lot of television, and there are some characters that just speak to me. Characters that, for whatever reason, I know would be my friend if they were real. These people wouldn't all necessarily be friends with each other, but they would be close to me. Here's my list:

Blair Waldorf, Gossip Girl. She may be bitchy and manipulative, but she's also deeply loyal to those she cares about. We could swap headbands and give lessons on why tights are not, in fact, pants.

Greg House, House. House and I have a lot in common--we both like to know everything, are incredibly nosy, and like to be right at all times. He and I could spy on people together when we're not busy watching soap operas. Plus, he could save me if my health suddenly deteriorated.

Dean Winchester, Supernatural. Dean's the guy I would drink beer and watch sports with. He would also protect me from any things that go bump in the night.

Lorelai Gilmore, Gilmore Girls. Lorelai and I would drink coffee and talk a million miles a minute about pop culture, then crash on the couch with pizza and a movie.

Barney Stinson, How I Met Your Mother. Barney and I would spend legendary nights out on the town getting drunk together. Later, I would give him a booty call, because he's the ultimate fuck buddy.

The Doctor, Doctor Who. He can travel through space and time. 'Nuff said.

BSC Mystery #18 is deeply stupid

My last entry kind of got serious, so I wanted to lighten things up a bit. A few nights ago when I couldn't sleep, I pulled out BSC Mystery #18: Stacey and the Mystery at the Empty House. I chose this book because I've only read it a couple of times because I didn't like it, but I couldn't remember all of the details. In re-reading it, I've discovered that this book is made of suck. The "mystery" isn't so much a mystery as it is a ludicrous plot device.

Stacey is house-sitting and taking care of the dog of the Johanssen family while they're gone to France. Yes, the doctor and her husband can pack up their eight year old daughter for two weeks in France. Whatever. Anyway, the book consists of Stacey going to the house twice a day and talking to the dog, Carrot. For half of the damn book Stacey doesn't talk to anyone but Carrot (even though there are baby-sitting chapter interspersed). Finally, Stacey begins noticing strange things; a glass left in the sink that she didn't use, papers in the trashcans, etc., and so she goes to the BSC for help. On the day the Johanssen family returns, the BSC find a pad of paper in the house with the number for the train station on it. They go to the train station and find a strange man talking to the Johanssen family. He's their old friend who was in town for business and was staying in their house. And yes, he didn't tell Stacey or try to get in touch with the Johanssen's. WTF? He knew that Stacey was coming to the house, and he didn't talk to her and tell her the situation? Jesus Christ, this book is horseshit.

Also, the baby-sitting subplot is about Kristy promising all of their charges a sleigh ride for Christmas, and then freaking out about not getting any snow. But of course it snows, because Kristy always gets her way. The end.

One continuity issue: this book is set at Christmas, yet BSC Mystery #22 is a Stacey book set at Halloween. God love that BSC time warp these characters can't escape.

I'm so over Christmas (and 2008)

Christmas was fun. I was completely right about my gifts, of course, but Alli said we could exchange the Clinique stuff, so yay. Nathan loves all of his stuff. I've eaten lots and lots of food. Through Christmas, everything has been good.

Until two days ago, when I came down with a cold. This is what I get for bragging about not getting sick that often, even though this is the first time I've been sick since May, so that's pretty good. But right now I feel like absolute shit. I also feel like a drug mule, popping cold medicine all day long. I am marginally better than I was before; my nose is no longer pouring snot when I bend my head down. And at least this is a good excuse to lie around the house and watch the House marathon I recorded this weekend.

I'm more than ready to take the Christmas decorations down, except I have no energy to do it with. Why is it that the day after Christmas the trees start looking less like magical centerpieces and more like overgrown shrubs taking up too much space? I wish I had house elves to come clean up all of my decorations for me.

2008 is coming to a close, and I can't say that I'm sad to see it go. It wasn't a bad year, not at all. It's just that I have hopes that I can make 2009 an even better year. I don't make resolutions (I'll never stick to them), but in general I want to be more brave. I don't take risks, but I'm going to have to start if I want to succeed in life. I'm in a scary time right now; college will be done in another year, and I'll have to find a job in a terrible economic time. I'll have to take some risks to reap rewards, and I know that I'll have a safety net if I fail--my family. They'll always be there for me, and I trust in their love and support to guide me.

And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go blow my nose.

I sit on a throne of lies

I said that I wouldn't try to figure out my Christmas gifts. I lied.

This weekend Alli was wrapping my gifts. One I know is my Tweety Christmas tree ornament; I've been collecting them for the past four years. She also had a gift box from Sephora. There was an additional fairly small rectangular package. Yesterday when I was home alone I went to examine the presents. The small box is I think the perfume--when I shake it, I hear what sounds like a liquid bubbling. The larger box, the Sephora box, has something in it that rolls from side to side when I shake it. To step up my investigation, I turned to my sister's laptop. She was already logged in to Sephora, so I just checked out her account summary, and saw that she had bought a Clinique 3 Step package the same day she bought my perfume. So, I'm guessing that was intended for me, since it was a package of the small size bottles, and she uses the large kind. I suppose it's possible that she bought the small bottles to refill the large, but I doubt it.

Honestly, I'm not too thrilled with this, because I've tried her Clinique for the past week, and it's left me feeling greasy, and my face is breaking out. I casually brought this up in conversation this morning to gauge her response. "Are you using all three steps?" Yes. "Hm. Maybe you need a different kind." I'm hoping that if this is my gift, she'll tell me when I open it that we can exchange it for a different formula, because my face is really not responding well to it.

I never thought she would get that for me for Christmas. I dropped all kinds of hints about things I really wanted. I found a pair of shoes on sale and bookmarked it on the computer. I brought up the fact that I wanted a clock radio that I could play my iPod on. It's not something I really need, so I wouldn't have bought it for myself, but I was hoping she would. Instead, I get soap.

It's the thought that counts, I know. But the set she bought is the sample size! It's tiny, and if I use it twice a day like you're supposed to, it won't last long. Alli, if you ever read this, I'm sorry for being such a bitch. I promise, on Christmas day I will be cheerful and thankful. Of course, all of this could be moot if I'm wrong about my gift. But I'm usually right, and let's face it, my snooping skills are pretty good.

I suppose I just want Christmas to be like it was when I was a child, full of fun presents. I'm going to have to live vicariously through Nathan as he gets his presents. And I'll take the $50 I got from a relative and buy the shoes, because I need them more than I need the clock radio.

Weekend Update, Christmas edition

Mother Nature has finally gotten the hint that it's nearly Christmas, and it was 18 degrees this morning, following a week of a temperatures in the sixties. I'm jealous of all the other people in the country who are getting blizzards. What do I have to do to get some damn snow?

Going to church yesterday was fine. It was simply the Christmas program, so little kids in costumes and people singing, no sermon, thank God (ha ha). I made jokes that should I go up in flames upon entering the church, my sister should be prepared to spit on me, but I escaped unscathed. Alli and I of course sat together and whispered to each other the whole time, because we are totally mature. During the service I remembered that when I was in the Christmas play in kindergarten, I was an angel, and my halo fell off during the program. There's some real symbolism in that.

Nathan got a remote control Thomas train, and he was thrilled (he's absolutely obsessed with trains). I've used the train to torture our cats. One of them will walk up to it, and I'll hit the button to make it move, and they will freak the fuck out. It's endlessly entertaining how frightened they are of this cheerful little blue train, which whistles a merry tune as it roams the floor.

Nathan also got another set of Little People, which he loves. We have two that look the same, so I've decided that one of them must be evil (because that's how it works on Days of Our Lives). Thus, we have Evil Bobby and Good Bobby. Yesterday Nathan got another Tyrese, and he's evil too. He's holding a handful of carrots (random, I know) and also a bag, and Stephen and I say that he's a dealer. "Hey man, you want some carrots? They'll make you feel real good." What can I say, we have problems.

The Panthers lost last night, but it was a good game, so I'm still proud of them. And of course my Tar Heels are still rolling along at number one, so no problems there. I was excited when Tyler Hansbrough broke Phil Ford's scoring record for UNC. Hansbrough is an amazing player, and he deserves everything he's earned. Let's hope he'll earn a NCAA championship in April.

Nosy Neighbors

The house that I wrote about yesterday, the H.U.B.B.L.E. house? Yesterday afternoon, there were a bunch of sheriff patrol officers and detectives in their front yard going through their teenage son's car. He was nowhere to be found, but his parents stood out there while the police searched, pulling all of his things out of his trunk, taking pictures, even checking under the hood. I sat in Nathan's room (where I had the best view of their house) and watched all of this shit go down, because I am nosy as hell. Seriously, I'm Mrs. Kravitz from Bewitched. I have no shame about it, either. I do think I was justified in my spying yesterday, because if this kid is dealing drugs in our neighborhood, I need to know about that.

This morning I checked the paper, but there was nothing about the kid--no story, and nothing in the police logs. His car is not in his driveway anymore; I keep peeking out the windows to see if I see any signs of life. Also, a handy tool that I've known about for a while is a website (www.nccourts.org) that lets you look up court cases in North Carolina by the defendant's name. It will tell you when their court day is and what they were charged for.

Another sign that I am super nosy--when I was in NYC a few years ago, Stephen and I would sit in the hotel's window at night and stare out at the city through binoculars. We would watch people in the building next door, and also watch people on the street. There's a hilarious picture of the two of us leaning into the window peering out, but I don't think I have it on my laptop or I would post it. Alli thought we were crazy for doing this, but it was fun. We saw a bunch of men having a business meeting, we watched maids come in (we hoped we'd catch them doing something like stealing, but we never did) and we had a great view of the craziness of Times Square. Man, I want to go back to New York.

In other neighbor news, Hates His Wife moved. Sadness. I'll miss that crazy shirtless grilling bastard!

It's the most wonderful time of the year

I'm home from school, and I've spent the majority of my time doing absolutely nothing but fucking around on the internet and watching tv. It's glorious. I really need to wrap Christmas presents, but I keep putting that task off. I HATE wrapping presents. Actually, I enjoy picking out paper and ribbon, but putting it all together into an attractive package is difficult for me. I'm not very mechanically savvy, and wrapping presents is just not in my tool bag. I swear, I need a tutorial. Gift Wrapping For Dummies or something.

I'm dreading this Sunday, because we're doing Christmas with my brother-in-law's family. Not that I don't like them (well, I like most of them), but his mom has insisted we go to church. I'm not religious. I can count on one hand the number of Sunday church services I have attended. I know I'll just have to suck it up and sit and suffer, but I'm particularly worried about Nathan. He's not good about sitting still and being quiet (what two year old is?) and we'll have to leave the service and go to lunch, then get presents, and all this is happening during his normal nap time, which could spell trouble. Last year, Christmas was a disaster, because Nathan's older cousins (much older--18, 16, 13, and 11) all freaked the fuck out in anticipation of their presents, yelling and hollering and insisting on getting their gifts first, leaving the toddler to cry in frustration. It was chaos. Poor Nathan, wailing, looked across the room, saw me standing there calmly and quietly, and immediately made a bee-line in my direction. I had to take him into the kitchen away from everyone to get him to calm down. Alli and I were NOT happy with the situation. His cousins were acting like spoiled brats, thinking they were more entitled to their gifts than a tired, confused child. That shit better not happen this year.

Our neighbors have put up their Christmas lights, which we call H.U.B.B.L.E.--Hideously Ugly Blinking Blue Light Extravaganza. It's blue icicle lights (I hate icicle lights, especially when people leave them up year round, like a lot of people here in Redneckville do), but they are two different shades of blue. Half of the lights are also clear icicle lights, and half of the lights blink while the others don't. It's the kind of display that makes you wonder how someone could step back and think, "hey, that looks good." And it's a shame that their Christmas lights are so ugly, because their house is beautiful, nicely landscaped with an incredible pool.

Also, I don't know what I'm getting for Christmas except for one thing (new perfume) and for once I'm not inclined to go present hunting. My sister always "hides" the presents in her closet so it's super easy to snoop, but I'm not going to. I haven't asked for anything in particular, so I'm willing to be surprised by whatever Alli gets me.

This is off-topic, but why is the radio playing the same twenty songs over and over again? There is more in this world than Nickelback and Akon. I think it's time to break out my ipod, which I got for Christmas three years ago. Hey, I made this point on topic after all!

Survey says

I'm bored, and I'm doing a survey. God help me.

1. What was the highlight of your week? This will sound lame, but watching the Panthers beat the Bucs Monday night. I had a long day and I had a headache, but that football game made me happy.

2. Whose car were you in last? My own.

3. When is the next time you will kiss someone? That's a good question

4. What color shirt are you wearing? Orange

5. How long is your hair? Slightly past my shoulders.

6. Are you good looking? Baby, I'm hot

7. Last movie you watched? Elf, my favorite Christmas movie.

8. Who were you with? My roommate

9. Last thing you ate? Potato chips

10. Last thing you drank? Water

11. When was the last time you had your heart broken? Hasn't happened yet

12. Who came over last? Roomie's friend

13. Are you happy right now? Yes

14. Where is your phone? In my purse

15. What color are your eyes? Hazel, and they're really pretty (she says modestly)

16. Spell your name without vowels. LR. Vowels are important and handy.

17. Do you have any pets? Three cats. I'm destined to be the crazy cat lady.

18. If you could have one thing right now, what would it be? I'm craving Ruby Tuesday's. Minis and salad bar, yum!

19. Who has the same phone as you? My sister, but it's red.

20. Do you read your horoscope? I get one that I enjoy emailed to me everyday, but I also read Yahoo's (which are shitty and stupid, like, even more stupid than horoscopes typically are).

21. How do you feel about your hair right now? It smells sweet. Dove Cucumber and Green Tea shampoo and conditioner FTW.

22. How fast have you driven a car? Faster than I'd care to admit.

23. Have you ever smoked? No. Lung cancer is not cool, folks.

24. Do you drink? In moderation. As soon as school is over, there will be alcohol.

25. Know any other languages? I'm finally done with the hell that is Spanish, thank God.

26. Any pet peeves? Oh, boy, I have a million. People who don't use their turn signals drive me batshit. How am I supposed to know if you want in my lane if you don't signal?

27. Are your toes always painted? YES. My feet are ugly without polish. I own every color imaginable.

28. Do you have a favorite cartoon character? I love Tweety. I have a whole collection of Tweety ornaments on my Christmas tree.

29. Last thing you cooked? If heating a poptart up in the microwave counts as cooking, then that.

30. Last time you were sick? In May I had a terrible headcold. But I'm usually healthy, which is ironic considering my terrible eating habits. Maybe there's some fortifying ingredient in Doritos.

A serious question

How do I and the three girls I share a bathroom with use an entire double roll of toilet paper in two days? Seriously, peeps, that's ridiculous. And I'll always walk in there and there the empty roll will be, as if whoever left it that way expects the Toilet Paper Fairy to come along and shit out her next deposit. So I just used the bathroom and left the empty roll in there, hoping someone will replace it before I have to use the toilet again. I know that sounds terrible, but my roommate has not provided any toilet paper at all this semester (can you believe that?) so I think I'm justified in my bitchery.

Ah, college. Giving me the education I need to get a job, and also giving me the skills I need to have juvenile fights with my roommates.

Light at the end of the tunnel, finally

It's reading day, which means I have done exactly no studying so far today. To be fair, my exam tomorrow is just going to be about novels we read, which should be a breeze. I may not remember how to conjugate my Spanish verbs, but I sure as hell can tell you the plot to a book. Speaking of Spanish, I am finished! No more Spanish class, ever! Can I get a woo with a side of hoo?

Since I have no classes today, I stayed up late last night and woke up late this morning. It was heaven. These are the things I'm going to miss when college is over and I enter The Real World. That, and the month long vacations.

I'm craving coffee so bad right now. Why does the coffee bar have to be so damn far away from my dorm? Oh, well, this time next week I'll be at home drinking coffee all day. Expect fully caffeinated posts during this time.

I'm so stressed

I could talk about all the shit that I have going on that is frustrating me and making me stressed, but I really don't feel up to it. I'm tired, and I don't want to think or do anything except go home. I do get to leave tomorrow afternoon, but then I'll be back Monday, so it's not much of a break.

Today in class a girl who sits at my table asked me, "did you say you have a boyfriend?" I told her no, and she was like, "oh, okay!" What the hell was that supposed to mean? I felt like she said it incredulously, like she wouldn't believe that I could have a boyfriend. Which I don't, but still. These are the petty little details I obsess over.

One other thing--I'm sad that Pushing Daisies is canceled. I watched it last night, and it made my whole shitty week a little bit better. I'm really going to miss it. How shows like it get canceled after two seasons and shows like One Tree Hill make it to six (possibly seven), I'll never know.

Anyway, if I post again anytime soon it will probably be to cry about how much life sucks right now. Christmas spirit, my ass.

In exactly two weeks...

...I will be home for Christmas break. The time cannot pass quickly enough. I'm sitting here listening to my roommate snore, because she'll stay up really late at night, get up for an eight o'clock class, and then come back here and sleep for two hours. It really annoys me. Just go to bed like a normal person! Or at least don't stay up so late when you KNOW you have to be up early in the morning. Although, I must admit, part of the reason this behavior bothers me is because I can't do it. Early to bed, early to rise has always been my M.O., and if I lay down to take a nap, forget it. Ain't going to happen.

I'm also working on my final research paper for the class that I made a bad grade on the midterm. I've written a page and a half, so I figured I deserved to come bitch on my blog for a little while. I'm not one of those people who can sit down and hammer out a paper in one sitting. I have to do it in little chunks spread out over several days, and I have to operate on a reward system. "Just one more paragraph, then you can go read Jezebel." Things like that.

Additionally, I'm in a cranky mood because Mother Nature has decided to send me my monthly gift as an early Christmas present, and I'm having cramps. All I want is a freaking Coke, but I can't drink one because the caffeine will just make the cramps worse. Dammit.

Take back what I said about the next two weeks passing quickly. I'll settle for the next four days to pass quickly. Calgon, take me away!

After Thanksgiving Recovery

I had a busy holiday week. Thanksgiving was good--a meal with my whole family. It was perfect. We went shopping on Black Friday and I got some really good deals on sweaters at Belk. We saved over $300! I also went to a bar and had fantastic pizza along with a really great beer that left me tipsy. I've decided I have finally found a beer that I like.

All that fun came to end this morning when Stephen drove me back to school. He drove me because it was snowing slightly and the roads were icy, and his SUV handles better than my Civic. We were fine, but we had to stop and help a guy who had an accident. He was coming down a bridge, hit an icy spot, and hit the median. He was standing beside the wreckage, wearing no coat, looking completely shocked, and no one was helping him. He couldn't have been older than 18. We called 911, gave him a coat to wear, and let him use our phone to call his parents. His car was totaled. I felt awful for him. But I was also really pissed off that everyone was just blithely driving by this poor boy without stopping to check on him. I've never been in a car accident, but if I am, I hope someone would stop and help me out.

In other news, this is the last full week of classes. I'm crossing my fingers and just trying to make it through the week without any major problems. Wish me luck.

Imaginary BSC books

Man, I loved the Baby-Sitters Club series as a kid. Those poor girl were stuck in eighth grade for a decade, but they did alright for themselves. But by the end of the series, the girls were simply stereotypes and not real characters (Stacey's a slut, Jessi's black, Abby's a Jew). So that lead me to create a list of BSC titles that could exist had the series continued.

#229--Kristy and the Gay Pride Parade
#235--Dawn Discovers Weed
#242--Mary Anne and the Shotgun Wedding
#248--Jessi Votes for Obama
#253--Claudia Waits Tables
#257--Stacey and the Inexplicable Itching
#260--Mallory Pike: Still #1 Loser
#264--Abby Converts to Christianity

Turkey Time

Thanksgiving is this Thursday, and I'm super excited. I get to leave school tomorrow morning and not come back until Monday, leaving me the rest of the week to be blissfully carefree. As soon as I get back next week it will be crunch time, as over the next two weeks I will try to write essays, study, take exams, and pack to come home. But for this week, I'm not thinking about any of that. I'm eating dinner with my grandparents and uncles, aunts, and cousins on Thursday, and then Friday we're decorating for Christmas. Decorating the day after Thanksgiving has become a tradition with my sister. Growing up, up our mother never let us decorate until about two weeks before Christmas because we always had a live tree. Now that we have artificial trees, we deck the halls from November until January 1. And I absolutely love it.

Christmas television is another thing I'm looking forward to. I've already set Elf to record this weekend. God, I love that movie. I love it to an insane degree, considering I watched it for the first time two years ago. But I quote it ("Francisco, that's fun to say"), I sing along with it ("baby, it's cold outside") and I laugh at it (Buddy drizzling syrup on his spaghetti). I'm also way into the classics--Rudolph and The Grinch. They're going to be even more fun this year because Nathan loves to watch cartoons.

I can't wait to go home! Happy Thanksgiving!

Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop from my faucets

This morning started out normally enough. My roommate went to class, I got up and took a shower, checked email, etc. This was at eight.

By nine, there was no water in the bathroom. I emailed maintenance, only to get a reply back that it was a campus wide problem and there was no water anywhere.

Well.

Do you know how it feels to know you can't use the bathroom (well, you can, but it's gross because no one can flush)? It makes you feel like you are incredibly thirsty, yet you don't want to drink. The school freaking brought in port-a-potties for us, but I still didn't chance having to use the bathroom. I'm sorry, my ass is not lining up to use a port-a-potty along with everyone else in my dorm.

There were emails saying the water should be back on by two. At two-thirty, I walked into the bathroom to check the sinks. As I passed by the toilet, it suddenly flushed itself. "I'm magical!" I thought to myself.

Maintenance crews were running around like chickens with their heads cut off checking out everyone's toilet. Our toilet wouldn't stop running until we had a guy fix it for us. But thank God, everything now seems to be business as usual.

And a note to self: I need to buy hand sanitizer, because going without washing my hands for hours was gross.

STFU

"Why are you so quiet, Laura?" It's a question I've heard many times throughout my life, and I'm never sure how to respond. "Gee, I don't know, why are you such a loud ass?" doesn't seem terribly polite. But then again, neither is staring at me like I'm a rare animal at a zoo, an exhibit to marvel over. I get rather irritated when people ask me about my quiet nature. It's like asking someone why they are short, or why their eyes are blue--details over which they have no control.

It's not that I'm quiet all the time, because I certainly know how to use my voice. But there is so much to be learned by being quiet. I am incredibly nosy, and if people are holding a conversation near me, I will listen to it. I've learned lots of gossip about people simply because I have excellent listening skills. So if you're around me and you're talking about that guy you hooked up with last night, yeah, I'm listening.

Being quiet is part of who I am, and I wouldn't change it even if I could. I would prefer people to accept it without questioning me, however.

I might have talent

Last week in creative writing my professor read a short piece of mine to the class. We were supposed to write a flashback scene, and mine was about a guy who was remembering his dead wife at Christmas. Everyone really seemed to enjoy it, saying it was the perfect way to transition into a flashback. I was really flattered and surprised that a two page story would be that well received.

Today, my professor told me that I'm good at nailing my characters--I make them multi-dimensional and real. He thinks I should minor in creative writing since I'm majoring in Literature. I'm so happy that someone appreciates my writing, because it is incredibly important to me. I try to be completely honest in my work; I'm very reserved in real life, not letting people in, but when I write I take down those walls. Whenever I write something, I will be satisfied with it for a while, then the next day I will worry that it is not good enough. Which is kind of like saying that I worry that I won't be good enough.

Writing is one of the only things in my life that I feel like I have any talent for at all. Knowing that other people think I'm good at it means so much to me.

I'm sick of the people in my dorm, too

I made a frozen pizza for supper tonight, mainly because it's cold outside and I didn't want to walk across campus for food. I heard my neighbors step out into the hall and complain that it smelled like garlic. No, it smells like pizza. And I have a right to cook food in my room, so if you don't like it, I'm sorry. It's not like I'm in here cooking something with a really noxious smell like sardines.

My suitemates routinely cook breakfast sandwiches in the microwave, and the smell of sausage will waft through the bathroom. I don't like sausage. But do I complain about the smell? No. I put up with it.

Jesus, I'm cranky tonight. I'm ready to go home where I can eat some real fucking food that I cooked in my own kitchen. I want to go to sleep in a room by myself, with the lights off, with no one's snoring or talking waking me up. I want to be able to take a leisurely shower without worrying about anyone walking in on me.

Ok, I have to get out of this bad mood.

The honeymoon is over

I'm only a week away from Thanksgiving break. Just as it happened last year, I am officially sick of my roommate. It's not that she's loud or incredibly messy like my roommate last year. It's just I'm tired of having her around, and I'm ready for space of my own.

Last night I went to bed around 11:20, but didn't fall asleep until after midnight when my roomie got in bed. At 1:30, her phone starts ringing. I can hear the person on the other end of the line say, "it's snowing!" My roommate then has to get up, dressed, and leave the room to verify that it is, indeed, snowing. I couldn't believe it. If this were a heavy snow expected to accumulate and get us out of school, then yeah, go check it out. But a light snow that will amount to nothing?

She's from the eastern part of the state which doesn't get snow very often, so I guess it's glamorous to her. But me, I just wanted to go back to sleep. Because of her nocturnal outing, she's been napping for over an hour. I feel like I have to tiptoe around to keep from waking her up, but then I feel ridiculous doing that because it's 3:00 in the afternoon, and she shouldn't would need to sleep right now if she would just sleep during the night like a normal person.

I'm not always such a bitchy roommate, I promise. I'm just getting antsy for some free time coming up over Thanksgiving and Christmas break. I'll be better in January.

Dear Zaxby's

I ate at your establishment for the first time last night. We've had a Zaxby's in town for years, but I've never felt a need to go. If I'm going to eat fried chicken, I'll get it from KFC. But last night we were shopping right near a Zaxby's, and so we stopped to pick up food.

We placed our four orders, drove around to the window to pick it up, and asked for honey mustard. "They're twenty-five cents apiece," a woman informed us. What? I'm paying six bucks for my meal and you can't give me a freaking tiny container of honey mustard for free? That's some BS right there.

I got the Zaxby's club, which was way too salty. I'm blaming the butter on the bread. But the fries were tasty, especially dipped in that twenty-five cent honey mustard. But in short, I probably won't be dining at your establishment again. Because, you see, KFC will give me honey mustard, barbecue sauce, or ranch for free.

Love,
Me

The Skinny On Being Fat

I've always been overweight. It wasn't so bad when I was a child, but as I got into my teens it got a lot worse. Mostly because of problems at home--my dad was a drunk asshole, so I stayed holed up in my room eating junk food to cope with it. It was a really bad time.

But after I moved out from under my father's roof, I lost a good bit of weight. That isn't to say that I'm skinny now--I'm not. My shirt size is still a large. But when you used to be a 1X, it feels good to say that you're a large. I've gotten a better attitude about exercise, toned up, decreased my soda intake, and in general I have felt a lot healthier in the past few years. I would still like to lose weight, but I'm not sweating it if I maintain my current weight. I'm happy.

Strangely, though, I still have the feeling like I'm the Fat Chick. You know, like I'm the largest girl in the room and everyone is staring at me, the freak. I know that's not true. I see women my size and larger every day on campus. Yet I still feel like I'm some hulking giant. When I meet new people I inwardly cringe, imagining the things they are thinking about my size. I'm incredibly insecure, and I hate that. It's this weird battle in my head in which I know that I'm not huge, but I still believe that's how I'm perceived. It's totally all in my head, and I don't know how to fix it.

It would be easy to just tell myself to have more confidence. That's something I've struggled with for awhile. I should just walk around telling myself that I'm the best bitch in town, and maybe someday I'll believe it. Fake it 'til you make it.

Holy Shitballs: The Twilight Phenomenon

I don't read the Twilight books. In theory, they should be my kind of thing; I love vampire stories (and Buffy the Vampire Slayer remains my favorite television show to this day). Yet they just sound so stupid--Edward sparkles! Bella teases Jacob yet remains with Edward! Bella makes the best vampire ever!

If you're wondering how I know all of this without even reading the books, it's all because of this site. She has these hilarious recaps of the all the books, plus all kinds of links regarding the Twilight movie. Apparently the actors are doing a tour to promote it, and the fans are absolutely batshit. One girl even asked Robert Pattinson, the guy who plays Edward, to bite her. These people seem to believe that he really is Edward come to life.

The best part of all is that Robert Pattinson gives increasingly hilarious interviews in which he disses the novels. Basically he calls out Edward for being moody and a stalker, and says that it's creepy how Stephenie Meyers has created a character that she is in love with. He seems to absolutely think it's weird how obsessive girls are over this series, and God love him for that. I actually feel sorry for him because these fans will go to all sorts of lengths to proclaim their love for Edward.

I almost want to pick up the books, just so I can make fun of them properly. And I definitely want to see the movie--once it's out on DVD. I won't stoop so low as to see it in the theater.

Writing for pleasure

I've been working on a research paper for class (the first draft is due Monday) and I decided to take a break from writing for class by writing for pleasure. I'm feeling slightly overwhelmed right now; I have this research paper, another one next week, a creative project, creative writing projects, etc. Plus, today I registered for class. One class I absolutely had to get into to fulfill a requirement was already closed. I went back to the drawing board and found another class that will meet the requirement; it's a night class, which I am not thrilled about, but I have to make it work. On the bright side, I won't have classes on Fridays. But with three (!!) Lit classes next semester I'll probably have to use Fridays to catch up on reading.

I need to do my assignment for creative writing that is due tomorrow. But right now I am feeling utterly devoid of creativity. There's an episode of Doctor Who in which there are street vendors selling emotion patches such as happy, honest, etc. Right now I could use a patch of creativity. But alas, there is no TARDIS to take me away to such a land, so I suppose I'm on my own.

Do I Know You?

Friday night I ate at a restaurant in town, and my waitress was a girl I went to school with. I've known her since kindergarten, and we graduated together three years ago. I've seen her working in this place before, but not since she had her baby last year. When she came to take our order, she didn't acknowledge that she knew me at all, only calling me "ma'am."

Granted, I didn't say "Hey, how are you?" either, so perhaps I'm being hypocritical. I suppose in my head I immediately reverted to our days in high school where she was the popular girl voted onto the homecoming court every year and I was just a shy geek. I don't think we had any classes together in high school, but we definitely knew each other, and she most definitely watched me give a speech on our graduation day. I guess Friday night I just wanted some recognition from her that I wasn't just some customer, I was a girl she knew and someone that was worthy of a simple greeting.

I suspect I'm being over dramatic here, but another thing that bothered me was that she didn't speak to Nathan at all. As I said, she gave birth to a son last year, so I expected her to be friendly to Nathan, but she didn't. It's certainly not a requirement that waitresses pay special attention to Nathan, but knowing that she has a son just slightly younger than him, it struck me as odd that she didn't talk to him.

This girl was one of many to have had a baby a few years removed from high school. I don't suppose there is anything wrong with that, although many of these girls aren't married and didn't finish college. Babies are wonderful, but I can't imagine trading my college years in for that kind of responsibility. I've learned about my baby-making peers from Myspace and Facebook, and I often wonder if anyone has wondered about me and searched for me. I don't have Myspace or Facebook, only this blog (which no one knows about). I guess it makes me sound vain, but I hope that someone looks back on our time in high school and wonders what happened to me.

Lies Sweet Valley Told Me

I read Sweet Valley books religiously as a kid. My sister is ten years older than me, so I inherited all of her original edition Sweet Valley Highs, then added to the collection by buying the newer books. Truthfully I always preferred Sweet Valley Twins--the Unicorn club was fabulously fun, Liz wasn't a self-righteous bitch, Amy was still a tomboy. Good times. Still, all of my Sweet Valley reading indoctrinated me with ideas of what high school would be like, all of which would be lies. Let's take a look:

--I could magically have a "perfect size six figure" despite eating burgers and fries and not really exercising, a la Elizabeth. [Ha! Good one.]
--5'6" is the height to be. [Actually, I am 5'6", but I hardly think it would matter if I were taller or shorter, so suck it, Francine Pascal.]
--Handsome jocks always fall for the nerdy studious types--I'm looking at you, Todd and Liz. [Please. In my school, jocks never dated outside the cheerleaders/popular clique.]
--I can spend all my time socializing and never studying but still make passing grades just like Jessica does. [Let me tell you, I worked my ass off for my GPA.]
--Tanning on the beach is the best pastime. [I unfortunately didn't live on the coast, but whenever I was outside I never worried about sunscreen. Now I obsessively check the size of my moles to make sure I don't die of skin cancer.]
--Kidnappings and the death of one's boyfriend are totally normal and not a reason to scar anyone for life. [The number of kidnappings across this series is astounding. And Jessica's got a whole cemetery full of dead boyfriends. Yet in the next book she's always just dandy.]
--Twins are totes better than everyone else. [Oh, how I longed to be a twin. Someone who looked just liked me! Someone who was totally different from me yet somehow my best friend!]
--I could hook up with the entire male population (not doing anything more than kissing) and yet not have a bad reputation. [In real life a girl would do more than just make out with the football team, yet even if she didn't she would still be labeled slutty. It's ludicrous that no one calls Jess out on her behavior.]
--California is always sunny and warm and the east coast is inferior. [This east coast girl likes walking to class in the snow, thank you very much.]

Post-Election Bliss

Everything has just seemed brighter today. I am so incredibly happy. But in a strange way, this won't really feel real until I go home and see Nathan. He's two; he is never going to remember a world where a black president would be impossible. I am so excited for his future, for my future, for the future of America.

And I'm also wondering how awkward it is going to be when I see family members that hate Obama. I am not sure how to approach the matter. In the weeks leading up to the election I would just walk away when they started talking shit about him, but I'm tired of not speaking my mind. Even if they don't like his policies they can respect him as a person, and respect all that he has achieved.

Also, as of this writing NC has yet to be declared for either candidate. I want NC to go blue so badly, just to add to Obama's final tally and just so that I can say that I'm from a blue state. I want NC to be able to shake off the strains of prejudice that we have carried for decades under people like Jesse Helms. (Edited to add: NC turned blue! I'm so pleased!)

Finally, I keep staring at the electoral college numbers. Even incomplete, that was one damned impressive landslide, helped by record numbers of voters. Well done, America.

Yes We Can and Yes We Did

I'm crying. I'm so blessed to be able to see this in my lifetime, so blessed that my grandparents are here to see this. I am so proud to be an American.

President Barack Obama.

My Election Night Freakout, Pt. 2

I'm back from class, I'm caffeinated, and I'm watching CNN. God, I'm so nervous! I'm now thinking maybe the coffee was a bad idea, because I'm about to jump out of my skin.

I'm going to try to take some calming breaths. IN...and OUT. Feeling better now. Just gotta keep breathing....

I'll have more focused thoughts later, I swear.

OMG OMG OMG

I am so pumped for election results! But this day is going by so slowly; polls don't close for another five hours here. I just need it to be four o'clock, so I can go sit in class until 6:15 and then dash and get dinner and come back to the dorm.

I'm rocking my Obama shirt today and my "I voted" sticker. I'm thinking positive thoughts. I'll write more later.

On Election Day Eve...

I'm still consuming lots of Halloween candy. Halloween was fun; I made a pretty good Dorothy if I say so myself, and Nathan was an excellent scarecrow. He had a lot of fun saying trick or treat, and he got a ton of candy (some of which I took back to school with me).

I'm so nervous about the election. I voted Saturday! I love voting. In 2004 my 18th birthday was four days before the election, so I was able to vote, and I was thrilled. I'm just a huge dork about politics. I won't be able to sleep tomorrow night. I know I'll be staying up watching the results come in, and will either be celebrating or sulking miserably. I'm feeling positive though. The only downside to the election being on a Tuesday is that I have a nine o'clock class on Wednesday morning, and I don't know how I'll drag my ass out of bed for it.

Some of my relatives are big McCain supporters, and is it wrong to hope that that I'll be able to rub Obama's victory in their faces? Probably. But I would love to have that opportunity. Okay, I probably won't say anything to their faces. But I will be thinking it.

This whole event feels like Christmas Eve to me. I can never sleep well on Christmas Eve because I'm so excited about the next day--giving presents, receiving them, spending time with family. My brain just can't shut down. That's what I feel now, too--an exciting buzz, because even if Obama doesn't win, we will still have a new president. I was 14 when Bush was elected in 2000. For my formative years he was president (I'm not counting Clinton in my formative years because I was completely unaware of politics then, and didn't really start forming opinions on important matters until I hit high school). But now someone else is going to fill that spot. And no matter what happens tomorrow, I know that I can look back on this election and know that I had a part in it. It's history in the making--not just American history, but my history, too.

It's my birthday

And I'll blog if I want to.

I'm 22 today. I miss my mom everyday, but especially today. I don't have a relationship with my father, and now that she's gone...it's like the whole reason I'm here is because of those people bringing me into the world 22 years ago. Back then they had no idea that they would break up, that my dad would devolve into alcoholism, that my mom would die when I was 18.

I've had 22 years of sadness and heartbreak, but also 22 years of happy times and precious memories. I won't take for granted that I will make it through another 22 years; I've learned better than that. But I hope that I will. I hope that someday in the future I can look back at the current me and marvel at how far I have come.

Most of all I hope that my mom is somewhere looking down on me today, and smiling.

Baby, it's cold outside

It snowed this morning. Just flurries, but still. Snow in October, specifically the day before my birthday, is something that I have never witnessed. The year I was born it was so hot that my sister and my dad went swimming. 22 years later, it's snowing. I hope that this is indicative of a cold, wet winter, because we haven't had a good, substantial snowfall in years. A white Christmas (or at least a white Christmas break) would be perfect.

7 days to the election. It's unbelievable. Polls look good in favor of Obama; I just hope the voting results are as good. I will get no sleep at all on election night. I don't know how I will drag my ass to class the next day, but I suppose when Obama wins I'll just be giddy enough to do it. I refuse to talk about him losing. If that happens, I'm moving to Canada. I did just talk about my hopes for a white winter...

Too tired to think of a title

I am very, very tired. I've been up since six, had my commute extended by thirty minutes because of road construction that made traffic grind to a halt, went to class, fought the freakishly strong wind, did a bunch of reading for class, watched Gossip Girl and Heroes, and now I just want to go to bed. But my roommate just informed me that she's staying up late tonight because she doesn't have class tomorrow. Which, whatever. I can fall asleep with the light on, and she's fairly quiet. But I hope she realizes I'm still going to be up early tomorrow because I do have class.

My birthday is Wednesday. Saturday I went out to eat in celebration, and it was fun. But I have no plans for my actual birthday. I'm going to be 22, which has no real meaning for me. Last year's birthday was all about getting to drink, but 22 is just another number. Meh. Halloween is Friday and I'm probably going to freeze my ass off in my Dorothy costume. On the bright side, there will be candy.

I wish I were at home, curled up in bed, in the dark, nice and warm, and not having to worry about LAND thumping around or talking at the top of their lungs at one in the morning and waking me up. But instead I'm stuck here, where I will curl up in bed with the light shining down in my eyes, listening to my roommate clicking away at the computer, and hoping that exhaustion will set in and I will fall asleep. Wish me luck.

More SVH--Nightmare in Death Valley

Previously: Jessica, Elizabeth, Todd, Ken, Bruce, and Heather were all chosen to camp out in Death Valley because they wrote fabulous essays. This book claims that the teens were chosen because they are all student leaders. That actually makes a lot more sense than the essay contest, but it's still a continuity error, so FAIL, ghostwriter. Epic fail. Also, our group was about to be killed either by the deadly storm they were trapped in or by those pesky convicts Heather kept mentioning.

In the middle of a massive downpour...
SAINT LIZ: We're going to die! AHH!!
(the rain stops)
SAINT LIZ: Wow, that was a close one.

The next day...
SAINT LIZ: Heather can barely walk, we're low on food and water, and we must make it back to civilization. Let's leave Heather here.
HEATHER: What??
JESSICA: Yes!
KEN: We can't leave Heather alone. I'll stay with her.
JESSICA: Oh no no no, I'll stay with Heather. You guys go on without us, ta ta now!

Later...
SAINT LIZ: There's a fork in the trail. We can take the higher path and spend all of our time climbing, or we can take the lower path. We need to take the higher path.
KEN: Clearly.
TODD AND BRUCE: Um, no.

They break up in pairs, Todd and Bruce going down (dirty!) and Liz and Ken going up.
SAINT LIZ: Oh, Ken, you're so handsome. Remember all those special times we had together when I was cheating on Todd? Want to do it again?
KEN: I thought you were in love with him.
SAINT LIZ: That rule only applies when I can see him.
KEN: Still, I'm dating your sister now. Let's just snuggle in our sleeping bags, okay?

Meanwhile, Bruce and Todd do some really boring shit, and Jessica and Heather hang out.
HEATHER (thinking to herself): Jess is so pretty. And she's a great cheerleader. I'm really kind of jealous of her and wish we could be friends.
ME: Oh, of course the one character who hates Jessica is secretly admiring of her. OF COURSE. (the girls fall asleep, but Jess wakes up in the middle of the night)
JESSICA (thinking to herself): Oh my effing God it's the convicts. Heather was right.
HEATHER (waking up): Hey, what's going on...AHHH!!! CONVICTS!!!
(the convicts tie the girls up)

The next day, Todd leads Bruce back to Ken and Liz because he misses her. Yawn.
Also, Liz is about to fall off of the mountain that she insisted she climb up.
SAINT LIZ: My life is flashing before my eyes! All those years of being sixteen!
BRUCE (somehow winding up above Liz, hears her screams): Hang on Liz! I'll save you! But only one handed, because the other hand is holding my bag of gold!
SAINT LIZ: HELP ME, YOU FOOL!
(Bruce drops the gold)_
SAINT LIZ: Hey, what's that noise?
(a giant eagle tries to attack Bruce to get his gold)
ME: Are you shitting me? This book sucks ASS.

Ken, Liz, Todd and Bruce find Jess and Heather. They rescue them from the convicts (an easy task considering how deeply stupid they are) and even befriend one of the convicts, Jack. This is all incredibly dumb.
SAINT LIZ: Now we can finally hike home!
JESSICA: Yay! Do you think it will take very long--
(she stops talking because suddenly they realize they are fifty yards from a gas station.)
ME: *headdesk*

La la la, they get home, discover the gold they had wasn't even real, and that the diary that Liz found was a fake (they say it was from a theater group who just left it in the desert. Um, okay). The real point about the book is that for years I only had part one, which I rather enjoyed, so I was thrilled when I got my hands on this book. And then I read it and realized what a piece of shit it is. Clearly some things are better left to my imagination.

How I know I'm an awesome aunt

My nephew is two, and he's the apple of my eye. I have the best time with him, chasing him around the house, tickling him, listening to him laugh. I can't imagine life without him. I like to think I'm a pretty great aunt; Nathan seems to light up when he sees me. But I knew for certain I was doing my job as an aunt when my sister emailed me a few weeks ago and said this: "Nathan and I were watching the news this morning, and suddenly he started yelling 'Look Mommy, Barack Obama! Go Obama!' I knew you would be thrilled."

I was. I have made a point to tell Nathan about things that are going on around us. He likes to look through magazines with me, so when I got my copy of People with the Obama family on it, I told him all about Barack. Clearly it sunk in. The next week after that email, my sister called and told me that on the way home from daycare Nathan had yelled out, "We don't like Sarah Palin!" The child is two years old and can already point out prominent political figures. That makes him better than much of America.

I have also instilled Nathan with an appreciation for sports. I'm by far the biggest sports fan in the house. College basketball is my favorite; when I was even younger than Nathan my father would sit me in front of the tv and talk to me about Carolina basketball games. Since Nathan was born I have made sure that he has had Carolina Tar Heel outfits. Now that he can talk, I have taught him to say "Go Tar Heels!" And today my sister told me that Nathan has fallen in love with his Carolina pull-over and doesn't want to take it off.

Football is my second favorite sport, so Nathan likes to watch Panthers games with me. When they take commercial breaks on FOX they have a robot football player who dances around, and Nathan gets so excited when he sees him.

I like knowing that I'm an influential part of Nathan's life. As I said, the whole reason I am a Tar Heel fan is because of my dad, and no matter what bad blood exists between the two of us now, that connection will always be there. Someday Nathan will be able to say that he's a Tar Heel fan because of his Aunt Laura, and that's pretty special.

Hates His Wife

Just a minute away from my house and one street over, there is a row of ordinary houses. They're older homes, ranch style, nothing particularly special. But when we moved in three years ago, we noticed that one man was always sitting in his garage. He's an older man with white hair, and he's typically shirtless (although as we get further into Fall, he'll probably throw on a t-shirt). He sits in his garage staring out at traffic, with his grill by his side. My sister, her husband and I started to speculate as to why this guy was in his garage all of the time. I believe it was Stephen who suggested it was because he hates his wife; he goes outside to get away from her.

Thus, Hates His Wife was born. We've seen his wife occasionally, usually when his grandkids are there, but not too often. Mostly it's just him and his grill. We wonder what all he cooks on that thing--is he just a steak man, or does he mix it up with some grilled chicken? We've driven by his house so many times staring out the window at him that he will now throw up a hand when he sees us. We worry about him when we don't see him. A road expansion is being planned which means Hates His Wife will probably have to sell his house to the state. I don't know where he'll move to, but I do know that we will miss him.

Feeling blue

Last Friday I took two midterm exams. I haven't gotten either exam back yet, but one of my teachers posted the grades online. I made a 73 on my American Lit exam.

I can't imagine what I did that was so wrong that I made such a low grade. I thought I would make a solid B. I studied for this test, wrote pages of notes, came up with stupid rhymes to remember the publication dates, and all I got was 73. I'm extremely disappointed in myself.

If I hadn't tried, I could write this off as me just being careless. But I prepared myself for this test, and still did absolutely shitty. My mom always used to say it didn't matter what my grades were as long as I was trying. I wish she were here to tell me that now.

I'm trying not to freak out. I still have a big research paper due, which I will pour my heart and soul into in order to bring up my grade. And I guess I'll have to prepare even harder for my final exam. But this still stings. I know nobody knows my grades except for me and my teacher, but I'll still feel really embarrassed sitting in class tomorrow, knowing that I suck so hard.

In high school I was always the girl who got straight As. Doing so poorly is a new and uncomfortable feeling for me. I feel like I'm letting myself down as well as my family. I really, really just want to make this right.

Sweet Valley High makes me crazy

Yesterday when I was at home for Fall Break, I was rereading an old Sweet Valley High book, because I'm cool like that. There are a lot of SVH recapping sites out there (I need to add them to my links at the left) but I decided to do my own spoof. This is for #115 The Treasure of Death Valley.

We start with six people heading in a bus to hike for four days through Death Valley. Jessica and Ken (dating), Elizabeth and Todd (still together, throughout all of Liz's cheating), and Bruce and Heather (our villains, who are surprisingly not a couple) were all chosen to participate because of the essays they wrote (ha! Liz, Todd, and Ken I can buy, but the other three? yeah right). They are dropped off in the desert and told they are being assigned a buddy, with which they must work with at all times. The buddies are these: Jess and Todd, Liz and Bruce, and Heather and Ken.

JESSICA: God, I hate Heather! Ken should be my buddy!
HEATHER (to Ken): Hey hey you you I don't like your girlfriend...
KEN: Relax, Jess. I would never cheat on you. YOU cheat on ME in a few books, remember?
TODD (to Liz): I wish you weren't paired with Bruce. You fooled around with him when you cheated on me for the 5000th time.
SAINT LIZ: I'm totally not listening to you. Since when have I cared about your feelings? Okay, I've appointed myself navigator of this group! Let's go!

Later...
BRUCE: Bitch bitch moan moan ooh a mine shaft!
SAINT LIZ: Bruce! Those are dangerous! You can't go in there!
(Bruce goes in there)
SAINT LIZ: I must follow him because of the buddy system!
TODD: I have to save Liz!
JESSICA: If Elizabeth dies, then whose identity will I steal? I'll come with you Todd!
KEN and HEATHER: Whatever, let's go pick flowers.
(Bruce, Liz, Jess and Todd emerge)
SAINT LIZ: Look at this bag I found. There's a diary in here about people that were conveniently in the same situation as we are now!
BRUCE: Bish plz, who cares about the diary? There's gold in here!
SAINT LIZ: The diary says we'll be cursed if we don't bury half the gold here. Let's do it.
JESSICA: Are you crazy??? It's gold.
SAINT LIZ: But the diary says-
JESSICA: GOLD
BRUCE: Hey, here's a map locating other gold mines! Let's follow it instead of our own map.
SAINT LIZ: But that's not safe! We only have four days to make it through the desert!
JESSICA: GOLD!
KANYE: I ain't saying she a gold digger...

Later...
HEATHER: I brought a tv with me, because I am a complete twit, and there are convicts on the loose in the desert!
JESSICA: This desert is huge, there are no convicts near us, now shut up.
HEATHER: Oh, I am so stealing your boyfriend now.
(Heather slides closer to Ken)
JESSICA: Oh yeah? Well, I'll just go flirt with Bruce.
BRUCE: Works for me.

Next morning...
HEATHER: I think the convicts were here! OMG!
EVERYONE ELSE: Shut up.
TODD: Hey, I'm going to be the navigator today even though I am totally incompetent.
JESSICA: Here, Todd, let me help. We need to go this way.
(Jess points Todd in the direction of more gold)
SAINT LIZ: Something is going on here! We're going the wrong way. Jess, you're leading us to gold, aren't you? I can't believe you would do this to us!
ME: Wow, you need to reread the last 100 books.

Later...
(The gang approaches a river they need to cross)
KEN: Okay, we'll make a chain. Heather will be next to me.
JESSICA: Oh, hells no.
(Jess pushes Heather aside. Heather loses her backpack)
HEATHER (points at Jessica): This is all your fault!
JESSICA: Boo, you whore.
KEN: I can't believe you're being so childish, Jessica. You're not the girl I thought you were.
ME: Again, you people seriously need to read your own books.

Next day...
HEATHER: Here's bunch of boulders we need to cross. I'm just going to do cheerleader jumps across them.
SAINT LIZ: Heather, that's not safe!
HEATHER: Hey guys, watch this!
(Heather goes splat)
HEATHER: Oh, my ankle!
JESSICA: HA HA HA!
KEN, BRUCE, and TODD: Heather, you're in such pain. Let us carry you around and protect you.
SAINT LIZ and JESSICA: The attention is off of the Wakefield twins. Heather must die.

Later...
HEATHER: My ankle hurts so bad! Thanks for carrying me Ken.
KEN: Of course, Heather. But I'm getting tired. Let's take a break.
(storm clouds roll in)
SAINT LIZ: We're lost in the middle of the desert and now we're in the middle of a torrential rain storm!
EVERYONE: This is your fault Jessica!
JESSICA: Whatevs.
HEATHER: Even if this rain doesn't drown us, the convicts will get us!
EVERYONE: Shut up.

To be continued...

Fall break, here I come

I have next Monday and Tuesday off for Fall Break, which is amazing. I plan on spending those days curled up in bed with a cup of coffee and a remote control in my hand. Unfortunately, I still have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow morning before I am officially on break. I have two mid-terms tomorrow. The one I am most concerned about is American Literature, because we have covered SO many authors, and we have to remember publication dates, and quotes, and those things could easily get mixed up in my mind. I studied all morning and I kind of wish I could go take the test NOW, but of course I have to wait until the morning.

I really should be studying some more, but I'm not feeling the patience for it right now. I'm promising myself that I will study tonight before my evening gets taken over by Ugly Betty and The Office. How awesome is The Office? Jim and Pam make me squeal like a little girl, they are so adorable. And Michael needs to get with Holly, because as Jim says, Holly is kind of a dork and is therefore made for Michael. Except I heard that the actress was only going to be around for a few episodes, but they really should make her a regular; I like her so much better than Toby. He's just so sad and pathetic with his lame crush on Pam that I can't find him funny. And wow, I have digressed.

When I come back to school on Wednesday, it will be October 15th. That is halfway through October, and that is crazy. This semester feels like it's flying by. The end of October means my birthday and Halloween, then before I know it I'll be on Thanksgiving break, and then I'll be preparing for finals (and Christmas shopping). Craziness.

In 24 hours I'll be home! I can't wait.

Yes We Can

My grandfather is in his eighties. He's lived through WWII, Vietnam, the Civil Rights Movement, the assassination of JFK, and 9/11. I've never really talked about those things with him, all those historical events he's witnessed. Mostly we talk about his health, my classes, his garden, the people in the community. My grandpa is one of the sweetest men you will ever meet, and our conversations are equally sweet, comforting, familiar.

My mother was born in 1951, and she too lived through milestones in history. She would tell me how when she was a little girl and would go shopping with my grandma, she would see water fountains marked "colored." She knew about racism; she lived in a very conservative town in North Carolina, of course she saw it every day. My mother was a teacher, and she taught her students (of which I was one) the importance of being respectful, dignified, tolerant. She was the image of grace.

Now in 2008 there is less than a month until the election in which Barack Obama is poised to become the first African-American president. I am thrilled that I have had the opportunity to be a part of history, to contribute to Obama's campaign, to support him to the finish line. I wish my mother could be here with me to watch this in motion. Even though I mourn the fact that she is not here, I am extremely grateful that my grandpa is. He's lived through all the racism of the south and can now go to the polls on November 4th and cast his vote for a black man.

He is most definitely supporting Obama. My grandpa has always been a staunch Democrat, but I know that he's supporting Obama for the strength of his character and not just his party affiliation. He actually opened up and discussed the election the other day, and I was so excited to hear him talk about Obama, and how much he believes in him. I know the polls say that mostly younger people such as myself are the ones who are going to vote for Obama, but I am pleased to say that my grandpa is too. Together we will vote and change history.

Yes we can.

22 days until I'm 22

My birthday is October 29th, and I'll be turning 22. I don't have any big plans for my birthday, only that I hope it certainly turns out better than my 20th birthday. That was the birthday from hell, the birthday that will go down in infamy.

It started out innocently enough. My birthday was a Sunday, so on Saturday I was taken out to eat, had a a great dinner at an Italian restaurant, had cake and presents, etc. On my actual birthday, my sister cooked a big lunch for me, and for dinner I had the leftovers from the Italian place. Everything was fine until I went to bed that evening. I suddenly began to feel sick to my stomach. Part of my dinner had been leftover cheese sticks, which had been coated very heavily in herbs. As I was trying to go to bed, I could not get the taste of those cheese sticks out of my mouth. My stomach was rolling, and I kept revisiting those cheese sticks in my head, and the next thing I knew I was in the bathroom on my knees vomiting.

Around the same time on the other side of my house, my brother-in-law was getting sick too. My sister had come to check on me after hearing me in the bathroom, and told me that Stephen was throwing up. I told Alli that I though I would be fine, that it was just my supper not settling well in my stomach. I seriously thought I was all better. I was wrong.

The rest of the night passed in a haze, as I tried to go to sleep but couldn't for my stomach pains. I remember losing count of how many times I had thrown up, and sitting on my bed with a trash can next to me because I couldn't make it to the bathroom. Stephen was throwing up so much that he called his parents to come take him to the hospital, leaving my sister to stay home to take care of me and my nephew. Alli eventually got sick as well, but she wasn't throwing up--she was running to the bathroom with other issues.

The next day my aunt, God bless her, came to take care of us. I did absolutely nothing but lay in the bed and try to sleep, drinking nothing but Gatorade. On Halloween, I was feeling better but still wasn't one hundred percent. It was the first Halloween of my life that I haven't wanted to eat candy. Not only did I not have candy, but I couldn't even eat any more of my birthday cake, which was disappointing, because it had been damn good.

To this day we're still not sure what made us all sick. We're thinking something may have been wrong with the meat that my sister cooked for lunch, because otherwise how could we have all gotten sick at the same time? I really don't think my leftovers were tainted even though they were all I could think about as I was vomiting; because of this, I have refused to eat at the Italian restaurant since that day.

My 21st birthday was miles above my barfy 20th; let's hope the streak continues to my 22nd, because I really don't want to end the night with my head in the toilet.

Gotta love dorm life

For the most part, I enjoy my dorm. It's one of the smaller ones on campus, and is generally fairly quiet. Plus, I have beautiful views outside my window. My roommate and I get along, and we're both fairly quiet people who give each other space, which is perfect. The only thing I hate is that I have to share a bathroom with two other girls, who I have deemed the Loud Assholes Next Door (LAND).

During the day I can put up with LAND. Yes, it's annoying when I hear them talking extremely loudly in the bathroom (sometimes about their drug usage, for which they're lucky I haven't reported them), or when their hair dryers blast on four times a day (they seriously wash their hair all the damn time). But last night at approximately 12:30 they began absolutely blaring music in their room. My roommate and I were both in bed; I was still awake, but I think she might have been asleep--either way, I heard her sit up and say "What the fuck?"

My roommate, bless her heart, got out of bed and went through the bathroom to tell our neighbors to please turn the music down, that we were trying to sleep. I'm grateful she was the one who talked to them, because I am not at my best when I'm trying to go to sleep, and I already can't stand these bitches, so most likely I would have pissed them off. The music was lowered slightly, but not enough to prevent us from hearing a heavy bass thumping coming through the walls. My roommate once again asked them to please, for the love of all that is holy, turn the music down. This finally got through to them, and the music ceased.

Unfortunately for me, I was now wide awake and pissed off and couldn't go to sleep for a little while. I think I drifted off around 1:30. LAND better hope they don't pull that shit again tonight, because I can't handle two nights of not enough sleep in a row.

Wax on, wax off

I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time recently. My eyebrows have always been extremely thick, and my attempts at plucking them have been sporadic, at best. It just takes way too damn long, plus it's painful and my eyes start to water. I've always just accepted my bushy brows.

But the lady who cuts my hair also waxes eyebrows, and so I finally decided to bite the bullet and have it done. I trust her, so I didn't think she would butcher my brows. The wax felt really good going on, all warm and soothing. And then she ripped the wax off.

It didn't hurt so badly, really. My brows look fabulous, so it was well worth any momentary pain. The only problem is that it's only been a little over a week since my waxing, and I'm already seeing the hairs growing back. Is this normal? I don't know. But I do know I will continue to have my eyebrows waxed, because I am so pleased with how they turned out.

I will not, however, let wax come near any other part of my body, because that's just crazy talk.

I'll pencil you in

It's Monday. Mondays are always busy for me, because I have to get up early and drive an hour to school (I go home on the weekends), and then I have three classes plus homework to do.

And then by eight o'clock, my television schedule is insane. I watch: The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Gossip Girl, One Tree Hill, and Heroes. I have one tv (and no DVR) on which to watch all of this. Clearly, I have to prioritize my viewings (anything I don't watch live I'll watch when I go home again on Friday). This begs the question: do I watch the CBS sitcoms, or the CW at eight? Last week I went with the sitcoms, mainly because they were season premieres. I am absolutely in love with Gossip Girl, but if I save it for the weekend my sister and I can watch it together. At nine o'clock, Heroes is going to win out over OTH, mainly because I haven't even seen last week's episode yet.

With economic news being so shitty (Wall Street falling like crazy and the $700 billion economic bail out plan didn't pass the House) I've decided I'm definitely going with the comedies tonight. I need a reason to laugh.

Afternoon Delight

A while back I purchased Betty Crocker Warm Delight Minis in the chocolate raspberry flavor. Today I made one for the first time. They're pretty simple--you just need a tablespoon plus one teaspoon of water to stir into the cake mix. Then you're supposed to swirl the raspberry syrup onto the top, but the raspberry stuff was really thick, like jelly, so it was difficult. A person might find herself giving up and squeezing the raspberry into her mouth. Not that I did that or anything.

You pop it into the microwave and cook it for 30 seconds. I was skeptical that it would be done in such a short amount of time, but it worked. In fact, it was piping hot. The cake had a fairly good consistency--not like a brownie, which was kind of what I was I expecting. The raspberry on top of the chocolate was almost too sweet for me, so I think next time I'll try the chocolate caramel kind instead.

It was kind of expensive for two single servings of cake--I think I paid over two dollars. But if you're like me and you live in a dorm room and you can't bake, it's worth the money. Plus, they're only 150 calories each. Making the mini cake was a lot better for me than the Milky Way I could have eaten.

Such Devoted Sisters

Saturday, my sister Alli and I were having lunch at Sonic. Witness the following conversation:

LAURA: (singing) The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down, a stu-stu-stutttering...
ALLI: (eyes narrowed) Are you singing a Miley Cyrus song?
LAURA: Yes. But this morning I was singing a Jonas Brothers song. This is not a step down.

Later, the two of us were watching tv, trying to find something worth watching.

LAURA: I don't see anything on. What do you want to watch?
ALLI: Eh, I don't know.
LAURA: We could watch Camp Rock.
ALLI: What's Camp Rock?
LAURA: Oh, you are so going to regret asking me that.

We spent the next hour mocking the movie, which of course features the Jonas Brothers as the principal characters. We came to three very important conclusions. 1) Joe Jonas is, somehow, a worse actor than he is a singer. 2) Kevin Jonas should never be allowed to flat-iron his hair. 3) Nick Jonas is going to grow up to be the cutest of the bunch.

The movie was pretty typical for Disney--cheesy lines, big song and dance numbers, wooden acting. At the end Joe's character has found the girl that Gets Him, and they're holding hands and singing and the camera is zooming in on them...and then fade to black. WTF, Disney? You couldn't show a kiss? I don't need to see tongue or anything, but they're teenagers for God's sake. A close-mouthed kiss wouldn't be scandalous.

We later looked the movie up on IMDB, and apparently Camp Rock 2 will be out next year. We've already marked our calendars.

One more cup of coffee 'fore I go

I drank a huge cup of coffee this morning, my first in several days, and it has left me rather jittery. My addiction to coffee is well documented. A few weeks ago I was in a store with my two year old nephew, and he suddenly started screaming, "Look Laura, coffee!" You know it's bad when the toddler recognizes your problem.

Anyway, I have boundless coffee-fueled energy, and instead of working on any number of homework assignments, I'm writing this entry. That's productive, right? Today in creative writing class we were workshopping our poems, just as we had done Tuesday. On Tuesday I shared my sonnet, and gotten some feedback from a guy I'll call AssertiveBoy. AssertiveBoy recommended that I build a link between two images in my poem. I didn't necessarily agree with this suggestion, but I didn't say anything, wanting to wait and see what my professor thought. My professor discussed my sonnet today, disagreeing with AssertiveBoy, saying that he thought the images worked. And AssertiveBoy would not let this go, and kept reinforcing his point. It really got on my nerves. I value opinions of my work, and AssertiveBoy is a good writer, so I did listen to his recommendations. But really, he kept hammering home how he thought that part of my sonnet didn't work, and I wanted to say, "Dude, we get it. Leave it alone already."

I realize I've given this way more thought than it deserves, but whatever. Coffee high, remember? Oh coffee, sweet elixir of life, never leave me.

I'll take potpourri for $600

I was all set to sit here and write about how I've had a shitty day, and how I'm generally feeling down and bad about myself, but instead I've decided to post something positive. So here's a list of things that I can be happy about right now:

--Fall. It's finally feeling chilly here, and I love it.
--New episodes of my favorite shows. Gossip Girl has been back for three weeks now, but this week brings Supernatural and next week brings The Office and Heroes.
--The fair is coming to town in two weeks. I'm a big dork about the fair. It's always the same year after year, and I love it all the same. I'm going to eat my customary corn dog, french fries, and funnel cake, and hopefully not get a stomachache.
--My nail polish. I'm the girl who has every color of polish imaginable and always has her toenails painted. I currently have my fingernails painted also, a deep rich red. My nails make me feel powerful.
--Cool weather=longer sleeves. My God, I love my Fall wardrobe.
--Lego Batman. I never played video games before Lego Star Wars came out, and then I absolutely fell in love. Lego Indiana Jones was fun, but it lacked the cute charming characters from the Star Wars game. I have high hopes for Lego Batman though.
--Last but not least, tonight features a glorious two hour block of television: 90210 and Greek. The perfect cap to my day.

Is it November yet?

I love politics. I spent the last two weeks watching the conventions, listening to the pundits analyze every word, waiting for new poll results to come in. But now that the conventions are over, I'm ready for the election to just hurry up and happen. I can't go to Yahoo or CNN without seeing Sarah Palin's face/name, and it's seriously driving me nuts. It's as if John McCain isn't even running anymore. Palin is completely inescapable, and hearing about her makes my blood boil. I'm not going to vote for someone who wants to take away my rights to my uterus.

I have issues with the Obama campaign also. Not with Obama himself, but with his support team. Look, I've given money to the campaign, and as such I've given them my phone number. And now they won't stop calling me. I talked to one guy who was trying to get me to come out and volunteer, and I explained that I'm a college student living away from home and that it wouldn't be possible. The next couple of times they called, I just sent them to voicemail. Finally they did leave a message, encouraging me to come by their offices to volunteer. I really wanted to call them back and tell them to back off. I've given you money, and I've made it clear to you that unfortunately I cannot give you my time. Leave. me. alone.

Oh, and I forgot about earlier, when I heard a knock on my neighbor's door and heard that it was Obama supporters, asking people if they were registered to vote. When they came to my door, I simply ignored them. If this kind of thing keeps up until November, I may have to go into hiding.

And this is why I'm single

The other night I was watching an old episode of Friends in which Monica is describing her quirks to her boyfriend Richard. This led me to thinking about my own little quirks. I'm not a terribly organized person; I always have piles of old mail I need to go through scattered about my room, I don't keep a planner, so my I wind up jotting notes down on whatever piece of paper I can find, etc. But there are things that I am extremely particular about.

When I first get home (my actual house, not the dorm room I'm currently in), I automatically go to my room and take off my shoes and jewelry and put up my purse. So whenever I need those things again, I know exactly where they are. Contrast this to my sister, who kicks off her shoes wherever she feels like it (leaving me to trip over her sandals in the hallway) and always takes her jewelry off in the kitchen, so that when I open a cabinet I find a watch and a diamond ring. She also has the habit of simply dumping her purse and car keys when she comes in the door, and then can never remember where she left them. This always drives me crazy. For as long as I can remember, she's lost things (most often her keys) and will then freak out, causing me to calmly intervene and find what she's looking for. She likes to brag about her good memory, but apparently it doesn't extend to remembering where she puts her keys.

Some other things I'm particular about: the bed must be made in the morning. I never used to be like this in high school, when I would simply roll out of bed and not look back. But since I started college, I've wanted the bed made up every morning. Not super neatly or anything, but I want it to look nice. The dishwasher is another thing--it must be loaded in a certain way; plates go on the bottom left side, and forks, knives and spoons should be in separate compartments. On my bookshelves, books are arranged by type. I always visit websites in the same order every day--gmail, yahoo, the local newspaper, etc. Clearly, I enjoy structure.

So my question is, why am I so particular about so many things in my life, yet I can't seem to tackle that stack of unopened mail?

Breakfast of Champions

I'm a poor college student, and as such I am addicted to Pop Tarts for breakfast. I favor the classic frosted strawberry, but occasionally I switch things up with a chocolate chip cookie dough flavor. I know that there is something inherently wrong with considering something cookie dough flavored as appropriate for breakfast, but that doesn't stop me. In fact, just the other day I bought a new, even more inappropriate flavor--hot fudge sundae. They are so, so good, and so, so not good for me, yet I eat them anyway. They also in no way taste like ice cream. The cream filling actually tastes just like vanilla icing. They really should be called frosted cupcake flavor. But whatever they are called, they're good. Try them. Just don't blame me for your cavities.

I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date

It's been crazy for me lately. Books to read, papers to write, projects to plan, HOMEWORK HOMEWORK HOMEWORK. Luckily I only have one class tomorrow, so I can spend the afternoon playing catchup on all my work. I feel as if I'm barely keeping my head above water.

But tonight, after being a good girl and reading for over an hour, I watched the season premiere of America's Next Top Model. I only started watching last year, but caught up with past cycles thanks to MTV. This show has got to be the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. Tonight's episode featured Alpha Jay, Beta Jay and Tyra-bot. What could be better than that? Except for Tyra's impression of a moose that is. God, I love her crazy ass. And the early 90s graphics were perfect. "Beam me up--fiercely." BEST SHOW EVER.

The Audacity of Hope

I'm a big political junkie, so I have watched CNN religiously the past few nights to see their coverage of the Democratic National Convention. Tonight's the big night, though--when Barack Obama gives his speech.

I got his book, The Audacity of Hope, a few years ago for Christmas. I feel in love with his writing--so powerful and majestic. When he announced he was running for president, I was thrilled. Since then, I've watched with bated breath to see the results of the primaries, to see how he did in the debates, to see how much money he's earned. Now he's the official Democratic nominee, and is poised to become the next president of the United States.

When I voted for the first time four years ago, I was thrilled. Thrilled by the act of voting, democracy in action, but not so thrilled by the candidate I voted for. John Kerry got my vote because he wasn't George W. Bush. When I cast my vote for Barack Obama, it won't be because he is not John McCain. It will be because I believe in him, his vision, his ability to take back our country.

It will be because he gives me hope.

Rainy Days and Monday

It's a nice, humid rainy day. We really need the rain, and it's been so long since we've had an all-day rain event, that I'm actually enjoying it.

It's been unseasonably cool recently. I am more than ready for fall. There just comes a point at the end of summer where I am sick of my summer wardrobe, and am itching to pull out the long sleeves and the darker colors. Plus, I just love watching the leaves turn colors, seeing the sprouting of pumpkins everywhere, feeling the crispness of the air. My birthday is in October, so I suppose I've always been a fall baby.

So, weather, please stay nice and cool. If it turns hot again, you are going to have one pissed off woman on your hands.

Kill me now

So, last night I was watching The Secret Life of the American Teenager (yes, I'm still watching that, and yes, I do need an intervention) and during a commercial break I was doing some stuff around the room. I was in a great mood, and I was singing a little song. And then it hit me--I was singing a song by the Jonas brothers.

Clearly, this is a problem.

I have arrived

At school, aka the place with the fastest internet ever.

Seriously, it's so fucking fast. I can't get over how fast pages load. And this new super speedy internet means that I can watch television online. Over on hulu.com there are a bunch of shows I want to watch again. Party of Five is a show that I watched as a kid, and I really want to check it out. I'm sure I'll wind up cringing through parts (because things are never as good as you remember them to be).

Oh! The Olympics have kept me up really late for the past week, but it's been worth it. I'm so proud of Nastia Liukin for winning the women's gymnastics all-around gold medal, and for Shawn Johnson for winning the silver. And Michael Phelps is a machine. I'll miss seeing him on my tv now that swimming is done.

Flashback Friday

When I get tired of listening to the same 25 songs over and over again on the radio, I like to turn to my own music collection and listen to songs that are older than I am. Here's one song I've been listening to a lot lately.

Sometimes when you're alone, all you do is think

It's a dreary gray day, and I'm feeling melancholy. I move back to school on Sunday. I hate moving. You would think I would be a pro at it, because in the past four years I've lived in two houses, two apartments, and two dorm rooms. Yet I still dread it.

I feel uneasy about going back to school. I'm worried about the course load (very writing intensive) and meeting my new roommate (we've only talked through email). I'm worried about the fact that in another year I will be done with school but may not be able to find a job due to where I live and the shitty state of the economy.

I read a quote in a magazine yesterday by author Brenda Hammond. "If fear alters behavior, you're already defeated." That struck a chord in me. I really do let my fears consume me. Fear that I won't be good enough, that I'll fail, that I'll be unhappy. So I play it safe. I stick to my same routine, never reaching for anything more than what I already have. And I'm tired of it.

I always depend on others to tell me that I'm okay, that I'm on the right path. I feed off of their validation. I never trust myself. I'm 21 years old and I'm taking a backseat to my own life. And I'm tired of it.

Things have to change, and they have to start now. This rut I'm in has left me incredibly unsatisfied. I know there's more out there. I just have to find it. It won't be easy, but ten years from now I don't want to wonder what might have been.

Outside my window are several large bushes. I don't know what they are, but there are a bunch of little butterflies flitting around them. Maybe this day isn't as gray as I thought.