Mom and dad are having company tonight so dad is doing all he can to make the house look like no one actually lives in it. He headed to the shower to prepare for the evening and I went to our detached garage to bring out the recycles. On my way out, I checked the door knob twice to make sure it wasn't locked. (Like I have been in the past.) I dutifully brought the recycles to the garage then attempted to re-enter the house only to find that the door was locked.
WHAT?? I swear to God. It's so weird living in a house I don't know. It must lock automatically or something. Now what? Doorbell!
I ran to the front door trying to make it to the doorbell before my dad got in the shower. I rang once and stood on my toes on the ledge peeking into the small window in the door. I couldn't see anything. Shit. I pressed the doorbell again, holding it down longer to extend the sound of the buzz. I kept losing my balance on the ledge of the door. I balanced myself in time to find my dad snickering as he approached the door from the complete opposite end of the house as the shower. What??
Come to find out, my dad locked the back door when I went to the garage. As part of a test.
"I wanted to see what you'd do in that situation!" he informed me.
Funnily enough, these tests of intelligence and survival are not uncommon in our household. That's why I have eagle eyes and I'm always thinking on my toes. Perfect for my future in the CIA.
I think I'll retaliate by making a doodie in the bathroom right before the guests arrive. And NOT turning on the fan. So there.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Chores
Vacuuming is the bane of my existence.
The leaf blower, however... Now there's a fun little gadget Santa may find on Maria's next Christmas list.
The leaf blower, however... Now there's a fun little gadget Santa may find on Maria's next Christmas list.
Young love. Or something like that.
Joe had a lady friend over today. Mom and I picked up the two from school and the giggling commenced the second the car doors closed. Joe and his Swedish (and therefore blonde and beautiful) play date yapped away in the back as I turned up my iPod and sang to the steering wheel.
Within five minutes of walking through the front door, I found the two "wrestling" on the basement floor. Sweet high school infatuation. I rustled around and decided to relocate to a different level of the house. Mom texted me frequently to make sure they weren't doing anything that would result in a lawsuit. Affliction ensued. I struggled between leaving the young adults to their business and hovering at the top of the stairs listening for conversation like my Yai keeping tabs on her unexpecting neighbors.
Luckily there was not much time to misbehave before we left to pick up mom from work. I made awkward comments about "lovebirds" and the "Holy Ghost" before dinner but sure enough they were back in the basement "finishing their movie" for dessert.
Within five minutes of walking through the front door, I found the two "wrestling" on the basement floor. Sweet high school infatuation. I rustled around and decided to relocate to a different level of the house. Mom texted me frequently to make sure they weren't doing anything that would result in a lawsuit. Affliction ensued. I struggled between leaving the young adults to their business and hovering at the top of the stairs listening for conversation like my Yai keeping tabs on her unexpecting neighbors.
Luckily there was not much time to misbehave before we left to pick up mom from work. I made awkward comments about "lovebirds" and the "Holy Ghost" before dinner but sure enough they were back in the basement "finishing their movie" for dessert.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
News on the homefront
My contact from the company I'll be interning with sent me an e-mail several hours ago about my first day at work, which will be Monday.
The dress code is officially business casual! That's a relief. Also, she told me there will be one other intern. The day starts at 9:30 and will end at 5. The other intern and I will meet several people including one blogger I follow closely! I'm very excited about that. I hope she doesn't think I'm creepy when I start commenting on pieces of her life I've read online without her knowing.
I hope I can remember everyone's name. I wonder what the other intern is like? The way it was worded in the e-mail, either it's another Maria or my contact was just addressing me. I guess I'll find out in roughly 120 hours. EEEEKK. I have to figure out what to wear the first day.
I wonder what my new roommates will be like? It's going to be strange sleeping in someone else's room. I'm bringing my own sheets. But still. It'll also be weird walking into a household where everyone knows and is used to each other. I wonder if they even know I'll be there? Also, this will be the first time I'll have to cook for myself. That should be interesting. I'll probably live on Velveeta and rotisserie chicken. (That's not a complaint.)
This is getting real people.
The dress code is officially business casual! That's a relief. Also, she told me there will be one other intern. The day starts at 9:30 and will end at 5. The other intern and I will meet several people including one blogger I follow closely! I'm very excited about that. I hope she doesn't think I'm creepy when I start commenting on pieces of her life I've read online without her knowing.
I hope I can remember everyone's name. I wonder what the other intern is like? The way it was worded in the e-mail, either it's another Maria or my contact was just addressing me. I guess I'll find out in roughly 120 hours. EEEEKK. I have to figure out what to wear the first day.
I wonder what my new roommates will be like? It's going to be strange sleeping in someone else's room. I'm bringing my own sheets. But still. It'll also be weird walking into a household where everyone knows and is used to each other. I wonder if they even know I'll be there? Also, this will be the first time I'll have to cook for myself. That should be interesting. I'll probably live on Velveeta and rotisserie chicken. (That's not a complaint.)
This is getting real people.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Apparently Joe's the man...
Last night at the game:
Joe: It's not easy trying to spit game and watch hockey at the same time.
...
Tonight at dinner:
Me: Joe you shouldn't be so mean to these girls.
Joe: You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?
Mom: (Puts down her ribs as her eyes widen) The Pimp Daddy!
Joe: See! I don't even have to say it.
Also at dinner:
Mom: He's just got to spit up the game!
Joe: It's not easy trying to spit game and watch hockey at the same time.
...
Tonight at dinner:
Me: Joe you shouldn't be so mean to these girls.
Joe: You have no idea who you're talking to, do you?
Mom: (Puts down her ribs as her eyes widen) The Pimp Daddy!
Joe: See! I don't even have to say it.
Also at dinner:
Mom: He's just got to spit up the game!
Stanley Cup. Game Two.
Red Wings: 2
Penguins: 0
Last night was fantastic. My dad got us tickets to game two of the Stanley Cup in his business suite. We arrived about an hour early and there were already two people there. As we walked into the suite, one of the men, Al, approached the refrigerator and offered me a beer. Al was a short, tan, Hispanic man donning a Red Wings jersey and floating through the room jovially conversing with different people.
Joe and I filled our plates with barbecue and fried chicken, spring rolls, potato wedges and other delicious morsels of heaven left by catering. We took our food to the two rows of bleacher seating overlooking the ice outside of the suite. Mom joined us, found white pom poms and decided to recreate her high school cheerleading routines, much to Joe's chagrin. Dad, who I'm convinced can get along with any person out there, mingled with customers while waiting for the game to start.
The National Anthem was sung my some petite middle-aged blonde with a significant amount of plastic surgery. I know this because she and her family (and mail-order, 20-something year old South American man-slave) were sitting in the booth to the left of us. Joe thought she was "sexy" and somehow ended up with a puck she signed with a heart.
As Red Wings tradition dictates, someone in the crowd threw a boiled octopus onto the ice before the game started. Apparently it served its purpose of bestowing luck upon the team because they slaughtered the Penguins 3-0.
Highlights of last night include:
Penguins: 0
Last night was fantastic. My dad got us tickets to game two of the Stanley Cup in his business suite. We arrived about an hour early and there were already two people there. As we walked into the suite, one of the men, Al, approached the refrigerator and offered me a beer. Al was a short, tan, Hispanic man donning a Red Wings jersey and floating through the room jovially conversing with different people.
Joe and I filled our plates with barbecue and fried chicken, spring rolls, potato wedges and other delicious morsels of heaven left by catering. We took our food to the two rows of bleacher seating overlooking the ice outside of the suite. Mom joined us, found white pom poms and decided to recreate her high school cheerleading routines, much to Joe's chagrin. Dad, who I'm convinced can get along with any person out there, mingled with customers while waiting for the game to start.
The National Anthem was sung my some petite middle-aged blonde with a significant amount of plastic surgery. I know this because she and her family (and mail-order, 20-something year old South American man-slave) were sitting in the booth to the left of us. Joe thought she was "sexy" and somehow ended up with a puck she signed with a heart.
As Red Wings tradition dictates, someone in the crowd threw a boiled octopus onto the ice before the game started. Apparently it served its purpose of bestowing luck upon the team because they slaughtered the Penguins 3-0.
Highlights of last night include:
- Hanging out with the family and enjoying some of the perks of my dad's job. (We missed Stever though.)
- My on-demand drink fetcher, Al. I never even asked, he just brought me a steady flow of cold beers.
- The dessert cart. Turtle Cheesecake was godly and Al made mom and I do Bailey's shots from miniature shot glasses made of white chocolate.
- Twirling hockey towels to techno.
- Witnessing first-hand another Red Wings victory in the Stanley Cup.
- Seeing a fantastic fight that involved several punches to the face and almost every player on the ice. Are those penguins crazy? Don't mess with Osgood.
- A homemade sign saying something like "Penguins eat their own poop."
Business Casual
GRRRRR I hate shopping!
Especially when I can't find anything. Like yesterday. Mom, dad and I went to a mall the size of a small village surrounded by carpet sidewalks and faux forestry. I tried on dozens of clothes in a desperate attempt to find something "business casual" for my upcoming internship. Wow. Who knew it would be so difficult. Several things went wrong.
A) I was in a bad mood. When I'm in a bad mood and trying to shop I shut down.
B) Shopping with people frustrates me.
C) I have no idea what qualifies as business casual and I don't want to look stupid when I start my job so I grew even more frustrated when I couldn't find anything.
D) What I did find looked ridiculous on me.
After trying on 20 articles of clothing in a poorly-lit, made-for-midgets dressing room in H&M, I was done. Mentally at least. Vicki and Michael had other plans in mind. Mom brought me into one of her favorite stores: Ann Taylor. Well... Loft. Apparently there's a difference. She picked out pants and I picked some shirts. Headed to the dressing room. Put on the clothes. Started laughing. Basically I was wearing a shapeless tarp. Mom thought the pants looked fine but I'll be damned if I will be caught wearing Ann Taylor clothes to an internship. Don't get me wrong. The clothes are fine... for other people. I can squeeze in another decade or so before stepping foot in that place again.
We had much better luck today. Mom brought me to Somerset and lo and behold the Banana Republic was the perfect balance between my reluctance to dress so rigidly and my mom's eagerness to dress me like a middle-aged woman.
For now, everyone is happy. I just hope the people I work with dress up and I don't look ridiculous.
Especially when I can't find anything. Like yesterday. Mom, dad and I went to a mall the size of a small village surrounded by carpet sidewalks and faux forestry. I tried on dozens of clothes in a desperate attempt to find something "business casual" for my upcoming internship. Wow. Who knew it would be so difficult. Several things went wrong.
A) I was in a bad mood. When I'm in a bad mood and trying to shop I shut down.
B) Shopping with people frustrates me.
C) I have no idea what qualifies as business casual and I don't want to look stupid when I start my job so I grew even more frustrated when I couldn't find anything.
D) What I did find looked ridiculous on me.
After trying on 20 articles of clothing in a poorly-lit, made-for-midgets dressing room in H&M, I was done. Mentally at least. Vicki and Michael had other plans in mind. Mom brought me into one of her favorite stores: Ann Taylor. Well... Loft. Apparently there's a difference. She picked out pants and I picked some shirts. Headed to the dressing room. Put on the clothes. Started laughing. Basically I was wearing a shapeless tarp. Mom thought the pants looked fine but I'll be damned if I will be caught wearing Ann Taylor clothes to an internship. Don't get me wrong. The clothes are fine... for other people. I can squeeze in another decade or so before stepping foot in that place again.
We had much better luck today. Mom brought me to Somerset and lo and behold the Banana Republic was the perfect balance between my reluctance to dress so rigidly and my mom's eagerness to dress me like a middle-aged woman.
For now, everyone is happy. I just hope the people I work with dress up and I don't look ridiculous.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Hurricane Maria
(Earlier this evening at dinner.)
Dad: You should really clean a path through that debris on your bedroom floor.
Maria: You mean my clothes?
Dad: You should really clean a path through that debris on your bedroom floor.
Maria: You mean my clothes?
Stanley Cup. Game One. Victory.
Red Wings: 1
Penguins: 0
Maria: WOO!! Wooowoooo!! Wooo! I can't wait till Monday! Just wait until the car ride there!
Joe: If you bark the whole way there I swear to God I will kill you.
Penguins: 0
Maria: WOO!! Wooowoooo!! Wooo! I can't wait till Monday! Just wait until the car ride there!
Joe: If you bark the whole way there I swear to God I will kill you.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Maria's Travel Log
6:37 AM, pulling out of Grandma's driveway:
Me: Man, it's early.
Dad: Man, it's late. I'd be at work by now.
And we're off.
10:00 AM, discombobulated and on a highway somewhere:
I just woke up from a half-hour nap to the sound of obscenities flowing from my father's mouth. He thought for a moment that we were going the wrong way, but we weren't. Thank God for Boy Scouts. I think he just wanted me to wake up and navigate and switch CDs to number three in his six disc hand-made collection.
10:30 AM, rest-stop somewhere in New York:
We needed a bathroom break. I hopped out of the car and started stretching. Mid-stretch, dad yelled at me to hurry up and stretch while walking, we're losing time. HEIL MICHAEL!
11:05 AM, on the highway perhaps still in New York:
We just passed some gigantic food production factory. After a couple of guesses, dad and I decided the smell permeating the car doors was mashed potatoes. Can you imagine living in a town that smelled like mashed potatoes all the time? Wow.
11:34 AM, some gas station with a Subway:
We ran out of food. Only one meatloaf sandwich made and packed by grandma remains. We stopped at Subway to refill. (It's just not the same without Omar.) Adolf yelled at me for wasting two minutes throwing out a can then ordered me to put his straw into his drink. The heavy rain is indicative of the passenger's destitute mood.
2:24 PM, on the highway in Philadelphia... I think:
About two-and-a-half hours ago, dad slowed down the car in the middle of the highway, stopped on the side, said, "I hope you put on anti-perspirant" while chuckling then making me Chinese Fire Drill to the driver's seat. I held back tears while adjusting the seat forward significantly and lowering the rear view mirror. Luckily, the road was empty. I lightly placed my foot on the pedal and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. Dad kept screaming "pick it up, come on" until I hit 65. Two hours later, my hands feel like I have arthritis, my ass is numb and I am ten pounds lighter after sweating uncontrollably trying to control the car amid near tornado winds, torrential downpours and large, dead animals. (And lunatics who shouldn't have licenses.)
3:47 PM, on the road:
Roadkill is disgustingly fascinating. We've seen enough dead animals to stuff and re-create a full road-side habitat.
6:53 PM, Michigan. Close to home:
We haven't stopped for (over?) three hours and I finished a raspberry Snapple (that told me only male turkeys gobble) hours ago. I'm starving and ready to pee my pants. We just passed 8 Mile. I think I saw Eminem and Britney Murphy making out! Six and a half miles to go. Food better be on the table.
7:31 PM, at home in the driveway:
Having relieved myself and smelled dinner, I feel much better. My mom hugged me for 5 minutes while digging her chin into my cheek. Joe almost made me pee myself when he lifted me up and shook me like a half-broken piñata full of undiscovered goodies. We are now unpacking and Joe declared that he's done after this load because, "I will not touch your boobie holders!"
Aaaah. Home.
Me: Man, it's early.
Dad: Man, it's late. I'd be at work by now.
And we're off.
10:00 AM, discombobulated and on a highway somewhere:
I just woke up from a half-hour nap to the sound of obscenities flowing from my father's mouth. He thought for a moment that we were going the wrong way, but we weren't. Thank God for Boy Scouts. I think he just wanted me to wake up and navigate and switch CDs to number three in his six disc hand-made collection.
10:30 AM, rest-stop somewhere in New York:
We needed a bathroom break. I hopped out of the car and started stretching. Mid-stretch, dad yelled at me to hurry up and stretch while walking, we're losing time. HEIL MICHAEL!
11:05 AM, on the highway perhaps still in New York:
We just passed some gigantic food production factory. After a couple of guesses, dad and I decided the smell permeating the car doors was mashed potatoes. Can you imagine living in a town that smelled like mashed potatoes all the time? Wow.
11:34 AM, some gas station with a Subway:
We ran out of food. Only one meatloaf sandwich made and packed by grandma remains. We stopped at Subway to refill. (It's just not the same without Omar.) Adolf yelled at me for wasting two minutes throwing out a can then ordered me to put his straw into his drink. The heavy rain is indicative of the passenger's destitute mood.
2:24 PM, on the highway in Philadelphia... I think:
About two-and-a-half hours ago, dad slowed down the car in the middle of the highway, stopped on the side, said, "I hope you put on anti-perspirant" while chuckling then making me Chinese Fire Drill to the driver's seat. I held back tears while adjusting the seat forward significantly and lowering the rear view mirror. Luckily, the road was empty. I lightly placed my foot on the pedal and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. Dad kept screaming "pick it up, come on" until I hit 65. Two hours later, my hands feel like I have arthritis, my ass is numb and I am ten pounds lighter after sweating uncontrollably trying to control the car amid near tornado winds, torrential downpours and large, dead animals. (And lunatics who shouldn't have licenses.)
3:47 PM, on the road:
Roadkill is disgustingly fascinating. We've seen enough dead animals to stuff and re-create a full road-side habitat.
6:53 PM, Michigan. Close to home:
We haven't stopped for (over?) three hours and I finished a raspberry Snapple (that told me only male turkeys gobble) hours ago. I'm starving and ready to pee my pants. We just passed 8 Mile. I think I saw Eminem and Britney Murphy making out! Six and a half miles to go. Food better be on the table.
7:31 PM, at home in the driveway:
Having relieved myself and smelled dinner, I feel much better. My mom hugged me for 5 minutes while digging her chin into my cheek. Joe almost made me pee myself when he lifted me up and shook me like a half-broken piñata full of undiscovered goodies. We are now unpacking and Joe declared that he's done after this load because, "I will not touch your boobie holders!"
Aaaah. Home.
Ode To Soft Toilet Paper*
*Actually written May 9th at 5:30 AM.
Tear! Oh toilet paper, tear.
I anticipate the tough, sandpaper-like feel
That I'm used to now, that's real.
Alas! Not single-ply, but a pair!
A smile shoots to my face
As the little piece of heaven touches my body.
This is so much fun, oddly.
Grandma's made this room quite some place.
I could wipe for days
In this sanctuary of comfort here
But have no fear.
To Michigan we must make our ways.
Tear! Oh toilet paper, tear.
I anticipate the tough, sandpaper-like feel
That I'm used to now, that's real.
Alas! Not single-ply, but a pair!
A smile shoots to my face
As the little piece of heaven touches my body.
This is so much fun, oddly.
Grandma's made this room quite some place.
I could wipe for days
In this sanctuary of comfort here
But have no fear.
To Michigan we must make our ways.
Hot air balloons are dangerous.*
*Actually written May 18th at 10:00 PM.
Last night was my last night in Boston for a couple months. I am ready for some time away. I'm ready for a couch and a TV bigger than my head and food that doesn't leave my body two minutes after I finish dinner and silence when I sleep instead of sirens and drunk Red Sox fans outside my window. Don't get me wrong. I'm going to miss Boston. Which is why, instead of packing and going to bed early last night like I should have, I spent my final night in Boston boogying at An Tua Nua with Drew.
That bar is infinitely less creepy when you go with a guy. Granted, there were still a lot of psychos. Nevertheless, Drew and I danced off the wave of depression that will (undoubtedly) follow my departure.
Guys at bars are so weird. I left the dance floor to get a beer and some guy who was at least a foot taller than me started a conversation. I noticed his accent, asked where he was from and he told me, Liverpool. He said he was here with his "mates" for a "match" because they were on the "football" team. Or were, he said, lifting his right hand and a cane (which I noticed earlier but was not drunk or rude enough to inquire on my own.) I asked what happened. He told me he fell out of a hot air balloon in Switzerland..... Yea. He proceeded to introduce me to his friends and brother. I asked him what really happened to his leg and he told me "a big girl, almost 300 pounds, flattened me in a club the other night!"
At least his imagination is still in tact.
Last night was my last night in Boston for a couple months. I am ready for some time away. I'm ready for a couch and a TV bigger than my head and food that doesn't leave my body two minutes after I finish dinner and silence when I sleep instead of sirens and drunk Red Sox fans outside my window. Don't get me wrong. I'm going to miss Boston. Which is why, instead of packing and going to bed early last night like I should have, I spent my final night in Boston boogying at An Tua Nua with Drew.
That bar is infinitely less creepy when you go with a guy. Granted, there were still a lot of psychos. Nevertheless, Drew and I danced off the wave of depression that will (undoubtedly) follow my departure.
Guys at bars are so weird. I left the dance floor to get a beer and some guy who was at least a foot taller than me started a conversation. I noticed his accent, asked where he was from and he told me, Liverpool. He said he was here with his "mates" for a "match" because they were on the "football" team. Or were, he said, lifting his right hand and a cane (which I noticed earlier but was not drunk or rude enough to inquire on my own.) I asked what happened. He told me he fell out of a hot air balloon in Switzerland..... Yea. He proceeded to introduce me to his friends and brother. I asked him what really happened to his leg and he told me "a big girl, almost 300 pounds, flattened me in a club the other night!"
At least his imagination is still in tact.
The trip home*
*Actually written May 18th at 9:00 PM.
I'm laying on a couch in my grandma's house, covered by an Afghan she made years ago. She is watching the Yankees (though she's a die hard Red Sox fan) and my dad is snoring away in his childhood bedroom. After having successfully avoided a thick slab of meatloaf in the shape of a bundt cake, I have not been successful in acquiring internet. I'm trying to steal wireless from the neighbors but it's not working. Ugh.
Goodbye Boston! My final week in Myles went by fast. Packing was very therapeutic. Weeding through all of my belongings helped clear my mind. It's important to deal with clutter and choose what stays and goes (with people as well as belongings.)
I feel like I've accomplished a lot when I throw junk away. I made 11 dollars at the liquor store recycling over 200 beer cans from the semester. I found clothes I thought I'd lose and paperwork I though was trashed. I threw away broken speakers, old projects and worn clothes. Half of my possessions will now reside in my grandmother's attic while the other half journeys back to Michigan with me.
There goes another year! Time to get ready to get a real job and venture into a house of four girlfriends nestled deep in the heart of the University of Michigan campus. It'll be interesting to see how other college kids live. I'm sure it's different than 426. Although the girl I'm subletting from calls me "girl" and "girly" in all her e-mails, so it can't be that different.
I'm laying on a couch in my grandma's house, covered by an Afghan she made years ago. She is watching the Yankees (though she's a die hard Red Sox fan) and my dad is snoring away in his childhood bedroom. After having successfully avoided a thick slab of meatloaf in the shape of a bundt cake, I have not been successful in acquiring internet. I'm trying to steal wireless from the neighbors but it's not working. Ugh.
Goodbye Boston! My final week in Myles went by fast. Packing was very therapeutic. Weeding through all of my belongings helped clear my mind. It's important to deal with clutter and choose what stays and goes (with people as well as belongings.)
I feel like I've accomplished a lot when I throw junk away. I made 11 dollars at the liquor store recycling over 200 beer cans from the semester. I found clothes I thought I'd lose and paperwork I though was trashed. I threw away broken speakers, old projects and worn clothes. Half of my possessions will now reside in my grandmother's attic while the other half journeys back to Michigan with me.
There goes another year! Time to get ready to get a real job and venture into a house of four girlfriends nestled deep in the heart of the University of Michigan campus. It'll be interesting to see how other college kids live. I'm sure it's different than 426. Although the girl I'm subletting from calls me "girl" and "girly" in all her e-mails, so it can't be that different.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Moving Out
Moving out is so stressful. BUT I just made $3.15 recycling coke bottles. I can't wait to see what happens when I return all the beer cans I've been saving since last semester!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Just another packratting Sunday...
My inbox is 98% full. I have issues. Time to document them.
Feb 24 Joe: He better or I'll beat the shit out of him. (I love my overprotective brothers.)
Mar 2 Noelle: I want your face on my kneecap.
Mar 7 Christina: Aaasaaah!!!!! Haha. Wat a hottie!! Yo MADD hotties at the airport right now!!!
Mar 16 Christina: Dirty jerz!!!!! Waaaaat. I love it... Any guids in that airport?
Noelle: YES! I'll be the naked Asian one in 426.
Mar 18 Noelle: Besiality.
Mar 19 Christina: Darque Tan is in full effect tonight u wanna go?!?
Noelle: Spoon session at 4? Colon cleanse at 4?
Mar 20 Noelle: Thanks my little Arabian stallion. (Ewwww. Mr. Hands.)
Mom: Too old for you pucca pricca! (After trying to hook me up with a twenty-something year old drummer in Michigan.
Mar 25 Joe: Dunkin Donuts for sure. Then I'm going to poop in your toilet. Then nap. Then party time.
Apr 3 Zach: Prepare for a hilarious show. (After which Drew and I decided we needed Prozac because we had not in fact seen a comedy but a play that ended with Zach digging a dead baby out of a back yard. Thanks Zach.)
Apr 11 Drew: Are they making you wear the I Heart COM t-shirts? I saw tons of frosh. Don' hit on the youngins too much.
Noelle: Looking fierce doesn't come easy girl. Gotta pay the prizice.
Apr 18 Drew: You are 21. That's absurd.
Joe: Happy birthday retard. Send me some beers.
Christina: Happy 21st birthday you princess of darkness!!!
9:37 AM Apr 21 Evan: Maria let's start this up!!! (Oh Marathon Monday.)
Apr 22 Evan: I mean I did one exercise and now I'm leaving to go buy cigarettes. (The work-out habits of college students.)
Apr 24 Drew: Jesus all I heard is that he was nice, not a sexy beast. You're def a cougar in training. (On the Boogey Man. Apparently there was a black out on Comm Ave.)
: It's already a kilbasa barbeque. (On the "sausage fest" he walked in on.)
Apr 25 Drew: Wow you're a great motivator. You are the female Tony Robbins.
Apr 26 Noelle: Fuck guys. That's why I'm with two lesbian couples right now. I've learned so much girl.
Apr 27 Noelle: Desperate times girl come on! I do wish you could spoon me right now though. I'm in a dark room alone!
May 4 Drew: You she-predator.
: Wow we are alcoholics.
Now I have room to store more texts for months!
Feb 24 Joe: He better or I'll beat the shit out of him. (I love my overprotective brothers.)
Mar 2 Noelle: I want your face on my kneecap.
Mar 7 Christina: Aaasaaah!!!!! Haha. Wat a hottie!! Yo MADD hotties at the airport right now!!!
Mar 16 Christina: Dirty jerz!!!!! Waaaaat. I love it... Any guids in that airport?
Noelle: YES! I'll be the naked Asian one in 426.
Mar 18 Noelle: Besiality.
Mar 19 Christina: Darque Tan is in full effect tonight u wanna go?!?
Noelle: Spoon session at 4? Colon cleanse at 4?
Mar 20 Noelle: Thanks my little Arabian stallion. (Ewwww. Mr. Hands.)
Mom: Too old for you pucca pricca! (After trying to hook me up with a twenty-something year old drummer in Michigan.
Mar 25 Joe: Dunkin Donuts for sure. Then I'm going to poop in your toilet. Then nap. Then party time.
Apr 3 Zach: Prepare for a hilarious show. (After which Drew and I decided we needed Prozac because we had not in fact seen a comedy but a play that ended with Zach digging a dead baby out of a back yard. Thanks Zach.)
Apr 11 Drew: Are they making you wear the I Heart COM t-shirts? I saw tons of frosh. Don' hit on the youngins too much.
Noelle: Looking fierce doesn't come easy girl. Gotta pay the prizice.
Apr 18 Drew: You are 21. That's absurd.
Joe: Happy birthday retard. Send me some beers.
Christina: Happy 21st birthday you princess of darkness!!!
9:37 AM Apr 21 Evan: Maria let's start this up!!! (Oh Marathon Monday.)
Apr 22 Evan: I mean I did one exercise and now I'm leaving to go buy cigarettes. (The work-out habits of college students.)
Apr 24 Drew: Jesus all I heard is that he was nice, not a sexy beast. You're def a cougar in training. (On the Boogey Man. Apparently there was a black out on Comm Ave.)
: It's already a kilbasa barbeque. (On the "sausage fest" he walked in on.)
Apr 25 Drew: Wow you're a great motivator. You are the female Tony Robbins.
Apr 26 Noelle: Fuck guys. That's why I'm with two lesbian couples right now. I've learned so much girl.
Apr 27 Noelle: Desperate times girl come on! I do wish you could spoon me right now though. I'm in a dark room alone!
May 4 Drew: You she-predator.
: Wow we are alcoholics.
Now I have room to store more texts for months!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Junior year, where'd you go???
Well, that's it folks! Junior year is pretty much over for me. (I'm just going to ignore the finals I still have to take for now...)
Every semester has passed by a little faster than the previous one. I have NO idea where this semester went. I still feel like we're a month (tops) into it. But apparently we're done. I think I should make a list of the things I accomplished/experienced to make myself feel better.
.... to be continued
Every semester has passed by a little faster than the previous one. I have NO idea where this semester went. I still feel like we're a month (tops) into it. But apparently we're done. I think I should make a list of the things I accomplished/experienced to make myself feel better.
- Tried cream cheese for the first time ever (and loved it)
- Tried mayonnaise for the first time ever (by accident, but won't eat ham sandwiches without it now.)
- Lived without Tara for the first time in five semesters (and hated it. Will never do it again.)
- Turned 21 (but turned legal for the second time in my life... Still.)
- Secured my first internship
- Finally met my faculty adviser
- Went on vacation with people who weren't my family
- Made a graffiti wall in my room
- Filed taxes by myself
- Discover the wonders of Gmail
- ... and Skype
- Had Joe visit when he was taller than me
- Re-learned that you can't trust anybody ever
- Re-started my Netflix account (... not sure how I lived without it.)
- Discovered the L Word
- Started writing again
- Found my favorite bar (for now)
- Went clubbing, Zurich style
- Made friends with Omar, the Subway guy, who now recognizes and greets Noelle and I with a hug whenever we go
- Maintained a constant of roughly 30 beers in my refrigerator at all (sort of) times.
.... to be continued
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