I took myself a half year vacation from blogging simply because, well.... i wasn't inspired. blog topics used to just come to me.... I'd be eating ramen or shampooing my hair and some random thought would pop into my head and i'd just think to myself "wow, that would make a great blog"; and thus a new blog post was born. but lately, i've had no such luck. it got to the point where i was sitting around during boring lectures in music class, thinking of possible blog ideas... and anything that needs to be thought about isn't genuine. thus my blog would be filled with insincere, unnatural, careless words. which i don't stand for. but today my friends, for the first time in nearly 6 months, i found myself once again thinking "wow, that would make a great blog". and this is where our story begins.
I subscribe to like 7 magazines... not by choice, i really only enjoy 1 of them, but the rest were mad cheap and i thought i'd try them out. anyways, i was reading a rather interesting article in Glamour earlier today and I learned that i have a serious problem. Glamour informed me that i am somnorexic. i fit every key characterestic found on the "somnorexia checklist". Basically, I sleep less than 7 hours a night during the week and then crash and sleep for 10+ hours on the weekends. Who knew this had a name? I mean this was a 5 hr. per weekday, 14 hr. per weekendnight sleeper here reading this... I was concerned! Apparently it's a legit and "very serious sleep disorder" that is a "detriment to your health and wreaks havoc in people's lives". Anyways... so I decide to look up more about this so called somnorexia and see if it's as legit as Glamour claims. What did I discover? Not only that somnorexia is an actual medical term commonly used, but I also learned that I have about 17 different "conditions"... and that's only of the conditions I found at one website. And I also learned that they over-categorize and name everything nowadays.... guarantee you have at least 10 problems you weren't aware of.
Before today I thought I just had some social anxiety and depression, but during the day I acquired 14 new clinical conditions. Yes, tonight i'm going to go to sleep knowing that besides being depressed and social anxiety-like, i'm also somnorexic, atelophobic, atychiphobic, mildly cainophobic as well as mildy enosiophobic, half doxophobic, glossiphobic, kakorrhaphiophobic, hydrophobic, katagelophobic, slighty scopophobic, sometimes i think telephonophobic, highly tomophobic and lastly topophobic. Just call me your deranged-with-16-conditions friend. I'm not going to go into detail about what each of those things mean but I can assure you that I am every one of those to some degree... look them up if you're that curious. Some of you may say after all that that I should add hypochondriac to the list...
So I have many problems. This is new to me. I know I have weaknesses and fears and such but they all have names?!?!?! I've determined that they go a bit overboard nowadays in terms of categorizing "conditions" and declaring people "somnorexic" or something of that nature. I mean, some of the things out there are ridiculous. You won't believe some of what I found. If you get angry, even over little things, more than 3 times a week you've got some condition with some long-medical sounding name. If you're often bored it's something else, if you're often indecisive you should "talk to your doctor because this is a serious condition which often needs medicinal help". Perfectionism is a personality disorder, risk taking is viewed as a PSYCHOLOGICAL disorder, workahaulism is viewed to be as bad by some professionals as alcoholism. I mean... this stuff is really out there. What ever happened to just like, depressed, bipolar, anorexic or bulemic? It's like every personality trait out there that isn't "ideal" is given a label and tagged as a medical problem. What seems even sillier is all the phobias that are out there with names. But what's really sad to me is that because they have names, that means people out there do have these things... and extreme versions of them. I mean just imagine....
If you're bibliophobic you're afraid of books, papyrophobic you're afraid of paper. I mean, books and paper are pretty common things in this world. Can you imagine legitimately being terrified of paper? How would you survive anything? Really!!! Think about it; paper's everywhere! There are also those who are graphophobic and terrified of writing and handwriting. That's gotta be pretty difficult too. I really feel bad though for those optophobic folks or people with euphobia. If you're optophobic you're afraid of opening your eyes... what a horrible thing to pick being scared of. Do they walk around with their eyes closed all day? What can they imagine would be there if they open them? What is the saddest one to me though is euphobia... being afraid of getting good news. Doesn't that sound contradictory? It's like... I'm walking around at work today and I'm absolutely terrified that someone may be the bearer of good news. What is there to look forward to in life? Then there's the really abstract phobias like the fear of opinions (allodoxaphobia), fear of ideas (ideophobia), fear of memories (mnemophobia), and fear of thinking (phronemophobia). I don't think I even understand these... how are you afraid of opinions or thinking? Don't we automatically as intelligent homo-sapiens have opinions and thoughts? I'm not even going to touch those four because the more I think about them the more confused I get...
There's of course the generic phobophobia, a fear of phobias themselves. I think the cruelest one though is sesquipedalophobia, the fear of long words. Who on earth would decide to name a phobia of long words something with 2 letters short of 20 letters? That's just mean. By the way, just to let you know.... if you have an intense fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth you have arachibutyrophobia and they claim that a spoonful of peanutbutter twice a day will help cure the problem. On the other hand, if you're a huge math nerd like me... or maybe an art geek too, you may be asymmetriphobic, that's right, having a fear of asymmetrical things. I mean those isoceles triangles are pretty terrifying... I just wish they were all equilateral. And I'd be careful because although your recluse, elderly next-door neighbor was once a teenager, he may be ephebiphobic and have an erratic fear of teenagers. They say that some people are apparently cacophobic and have a fear of ugliness though I'd just call that a tweaked version of being stuck-up where they want to give their conceitedness a more positive name so they say they have some condition.... stuck-up-ness reminds me of middleschool and middleschool reminds me of warheads, that's right the hard candy. If you never got into the Warhead candy craze in middleschool and seemed irrationally terrified by the thought of eating one, don't worry... you probably are just acerophobic and have a fear of sourness. If you ever meet someone who seems to prefer the right side of their body and avoids looking at or touching the left side of anyone elses body please be sensitive to this seemingly irrational behavior, they're just levophobic and have a fear of things to the left side of the body. Although someone with asymmetriphobia wouldn't understand this because the body is symmetrical after all....
A few of these fears reminded me of some scary movies. And I'm not talking about like, phasmophobia, the fear of ghosts or anything like that. I'm talking like... paraskavedekatriaphobia, or the intense fear of Friday the 13th, which consequently also wins the award for being the longest titled phobia. Also, because of a certain movie I can say that for like a 2 week period I once legitametly had a case of eisoptrophobia, a fear of mirrors or of seeing oneself in a mirror and I still am scared by mirrors though I wouldn't go so far as to call it a phobia. I don't need another phobia anyways.... 16's enough.
Bottom line, there's a phobia for everyone. If you're afraid of candles, even when unlit, I'm sure there's a name for that condition. I mean if there's such a thing as pteronophobia, the fear of being tickled by feathers and Francophobia, the fear of French culture, I'm SURE there's a name for being afraid of candles or headphones, or tinfoil or anything you can imagine. So don't be ashamed to admit the clinical conditions you have. Nothing's more ridiculous than being patroiophobic.
Friday, October 14, 2005
I know... it's a shock. A new blog. As I sit here wondering what the best way is to waste the next 45 minutes or so before dinner I contemplated many options. Read a magazine? Finish my book? Homework? Game online? Download more music? Facebook? Myspace? And then I thought to myself... hmmm it's definitely been awhile since I blogged. And that was that. The decision was made. I commited the next 45 minutes of my life to blogging and thus this post began. The spark of creation.
Now, since I was in this contemplative mood I thought I'd contemplate some more... what to write about? I could just fill you in on the last few months of my life... which I'll probably summarize in a latter paragraph though there are no promises... actually I probably won't summarize it... it would be too long of a summary to be considered a summary... more like an... ehhh, I'm stuck, I don't what it would be more like... just a too long summary. Or I could explain my thoughts on some random occurance that happened to me... but then I'd have to think of one good enough to share. I could talk about things that annoy me, like colored contacts for instance... I'm always up for complaining. I could of course make up a story too, which, if I did, would certainly start with "Once upon a time in a land far, far away..." and then gradually become less cliche. I could... ehhh that's enough. Summarizing this last paragraph, my options for topics were abundant and yet I could not reach a conclusion. So, as I always seem to be doing nowadays, I decided just to start writing and see what came out... and then I crossed a bridge I didn't know I crossed until I crossed. And that may sound confusing but it's quoted (more or less) from a much better writer than me and so I will leave it in because he's famous, I'm not, so it must be good, and I like to plagarize people who write good... errr, well... I've quoted the same writer dude twice already. Anyways... what was I saying? Oh yeah, the bridge bit. So, translation of the confusing bridge metaphor... it hit me what I should write about when I started writing and I didn't realize it hit me until umm... after it hit me? Okay, maybe that wasn't less confusing. I give up. I'm a math major I don't need to write good... err, well.
And, again, as always is the case, I don't get started on my actual topic until I've already written 5.5 hundred sentences. No use wasting more words on that though, let's get to the topic of choice. Wasting time. I'm not going to get all philosophical here, becuase if you remember, it is my goal to graduate Wheaton without ever having to take a philosophy course, but why do we consider little activities we do as a waste of time? You may "waste time" by going online... but face it, you WANT to be online during that time. If not, you'd be doing something else. We should never waste time... but always be doing something we want to be doing... even if it's just sitting down relaxing, or doing work so you don't have to stress about it later (weaker example I know, but I had to throw it in there so as to avoid anomalies... idk what that word even means... I don't think it makes sense here but that's okay). Wait... this isn't even where I wanted to go with this. Scratch this paragraph.
What I really wanted to talk about was how much people really DO waste their time by going on facebook and myspace... the two hotspots for college students. Now remember, any dissing I do here is totally fair because I am 100% one of these people who spends too much time on myspace and facebook.... I'm admitting my faults. Now that that's over I can continue. If you think about it, both programs are absolutely absurd. If you're one of the select few remaining people left who know not about myspace and facebook I shall write up a brief summary of them for you. They're these programs where you type all this silly information about you like your favorite movies, books, interests, etc. etc. and of course, pictures. If you don't include pictures you basically broke the first rule of facebook etiquette and are condemned to having a question mark as your picture. Rules you say? Oh there are definite, unspoken rules. Let's stay with the pictures for a moment. You can't include any pictures of you with your friends because it's impossible for new people to know which one is you... it's especially unacceptable if your friends are hotter than you. This is misleading. Staying with the hotness factor, you should only put in pictures that make you look at least 8 times more attractive than you really are... you will be more popular online. It is also a cardinal rule to change your photo rather frequently so as to avoid boredom and to encourage your friends to check out your profile to see if you made any other changes. Perhaps the largest rule though is that if someone leaves you a comment, you need to comment back or else they will hold a grudge against you until you do. It is perfectly acceptable to have 379 friends at your school even if you've never met them all... the number is what's important. And by the way, "poking" is soooooo 2004. I could go on and on with these rules here, but it's better to learn them through experience.
How many hours do we waste on these sites? Editing them, looking up our friends, commenting, hating "friends" for not commenting to us, checking out new groups to join, who likes the same music as you... the list is endless of what we come up with to waste our time on these sites. I mean it's virtually an online yearbook, complete with "signatures" which accurately measure how popular we are in comparison to our classmates. It's funny how much time we spend on these two sites... and almost everyone agrees. Yet, here we are, addicted to myspace and facebook. Always wanting to add more friends, post more comments, change your "about me" section, and check out how "popular" your friends are. I have no clever way to end this so this is going to be THE MOST abrupt ending I've ever had yet. I know you're waiting for a conclusion to tie it all together, but frankly my 45 minutes are up and I'm done writing.
Now, since I was in this contemplative mood I thought I'd contemplate some more... what to write about? I could just fill you in on the last few months of my life... which I'll probably summarize in a latter paragraph though there are no promises... actually I probably won't summarize it... it would be too long of a summary to be considered a summary... more like an... ehhh, I'm stuck, I don't what it would be more like... just a too long summary. Or I could explain my thoughts on some random occurance that happened to me... but then I'd have to think of one good enough to share. I could talk about things that annoy me, like colored contacts for instance... I'm always up for complaining. I could of course make up a story too, which, if I did, would certainly start with "Once upon a time in a land far, far away..." and then gradually become less cliche. I could... ehhh that's enough. Summarizing this last paragraph, my options for topics were abundant and yet I could not reach a conclusion. So, as I always seem to be doing nowadays, I decided just to start writing and see what came out... and then I crossed a bridge I didn't know I crossed until I crossed. And that may sound confusing but it's quoted (more or less) from a much better writer than me and so I will leave it in because he's famous, I'm not, so it must be good, and I like to plagarize people who write good... errr, well... I've quoted the same writer dude twice already. Anyways... what was I saying? Oh yeah, the bridge bit. So, translation of the confusing bridge metaphor... it hit me what I should write about when I started writing and I didn't realize it hit me until umm... after it hit me? Okay, maybe that wasn't less confusing. I give up. I'm a math major I don't need to write good... err, well.
And, again, as always is the case, I don't get started on my actual topic until I've already written 5.5 hundred sentences. No use wasting more words on that though, let's get to the topic of choice. Wasting time. I'm not going to get all philosophical here, becuase if you remember, it is my goal to graduate Wheaton without ever having to take a philosophy course, but why do we consider little activities we do as a waste of time? You may "waste time" by going online... but face it, you WANT to be online during that time. If not, you'd be doing something else. We should never waste time... but always be doing something we want to be doing... even if it's just sitting down relaxing, or doing work so you don't have to stress about it later (weaker example I know, but I had to throw it in there so as to avoid anomalies... idk what that word even means... I don't think it makes sense here but that's okay). Wait... this isn't even where I wanted to go with this. Scratch this paragraph.
What I really wanted to talk about was how much people really DO waste their time by going on facebook and myspace... the two hotspots for college students. Now remember, any dissing I do here is totally fair because I am 100% one of these people who spends too much time on myspace and facebook.... I'm admitting my faults. Now that that's over I can continue. If you think about it, both programs are absolutely absurd. If you're one of the select few remaining people left who know not about myspace and facebook I shall write up a brief summary of them for you. They're these programs where you type all this silly information about you like your favorite movies, books, interests, etc. etc. and of course, pictures. If you don't include pictures you basically broke the first rule of facebook etiquette and are condemned to having a question mark as your picture. Rules you say? Oh there are definite, unspoken rules. Let's stay with the pictures for a moment. You can't include any pictures of you with your friends because it's impossible for new people to know which one is you... it's especially unacceptable if your friends are hotter than you. This is misleading. Staying with the hotness factor, you should only put in pictures that make you look at least 8 times more attractive than you really are... you will be more popular online. It is also a cardinal rule to change your photo rather frequently so as to avoid boredom and to encourage your friends to check out your profile to see if you made any other changes. Perhaps the largest rule though is that if someone leaves you a comment, you need to comment back or else they will hold a grudge against you until you do. It is perfectly acceptable to have 379 friends at your school even if you've never met them all... the number is what's important. And by the way, "poking" is soooooo 2004. I could go on and on with these rules here, but it's better to learn them through experience.
How many hours do we waste on these sites? Editing them, looking up our friends, commenting, hating "friends" for not commenting to us, checking out new groups to join, who likes the same music as you... the list is endless of what we come up with to waste our time on these sites. I mean it's virtually an online yearbook, complete with "signatures" which accurately measure how popular we are in comparison to our classmates. It's funny how much time we spend on these two sites... and almost everyone agrees. Yet, here we are, addicted to myspace and facebook. Always wanting to add more friends, post more comments, change your "about me" section, and check out how "popular" your friends are. I have no clever way to end this so this is going to be THE MOST abrupt ending I've ever had yet. I know you're waiting for a conclusion to tie it all together, but frankly my 45 minutes are up and I'm done writing.
Monday, August 15, 2005
So... I'm sitting here at 2:25 a.m. on a late Sunday night slash early Monday morning. Why, you ask? Do not worry. Of course, I will tell you. I'm not the type of person to type a "why" question and then not give you the answer. That is, unless, of course, I'm being rhetorical, which by the way is a difficult word for me to spell... especially, when it is, what...now 2:29 in the late night slash early morning (and did you think that was too many commas because I think so). Now where was I before I began that long run-on sentence? Ah yes... the answer to why I am sitting here at this late hour. Well... here it is my friends. I'm having some trouble sleeping and instead of waiting it out in bed, trying to convince myself that I'll fall asleep within the next 5 minutes, I decided to get up and blog. Why now? I have no idea. I don't even have a topic in mind. I am topic-less. I have nothing. A dry well. An empty present. Now I'm just talking silly and it is clear that I am very tired. At least dry well is an expression... or did I make that up too? But empty present?... definitely haven't heard that one before. I'm going to incorporate that into my daily speech... although I'm not sure how it should be used. Okay, forget that idea.
I'm going to try my best to stop rambling now and actually say something. What could I talk about? What are you interested in? What do you all want to hear about? I've been super sick for the past week... ehh, you don't want to hear about that. (See look... I'm reading your minds! I have that supernatural ability... bet you never knew that) Hmm... maybe that will interest you... other things I bet you don't know about me. Random things. Yes, I know I tend to be random anyways, but this topic could be fun. Let me explore and see where it leads me.....
Hmm... I bet none of you know that when I was younger I used to go into the woods and sweep (not rake... sweep) all the leaves away at this certain spot... and I'd carve at this dead tree with a plastic knife, determined to make it all the way through to the other side. I wanted to make it like my little secret spot in the woods. I'd go there all the time and sweep the leaves away... and I always hoped that when I came back the leaves would still be cleared and the wind wouldn't have moved them around. Okay, so I was naive... but I bet none of you knew I did that! Sorry... that one was kind of boring. But I like this whole child memory thing... I'm gunna roll with that.
I used to make cakes just to have a food fight. I'd put towels on the floor to avoid making a mess of the house. Don't know if my parents ever knew about that actually... probably not, or they would have been mad about my wasting food. What else.... I've only been in a hospital twice and they were both when I was a baby. One time was when I was just a few months... I had a super high fever or something and they had to give me a shot. Right, so that was a boring reason to be in a hospital. And the other time was because I ran into a radiator. That's right... picture little baby Trisha running and then going straight into a radiator and splitting her head open. I had to get stitches on my forehead and that's the only scar I have. I have fun imagining this one... I just can't imagine running into a radiator hard enough to do that to myself.
Okay, this whole blog thing isn't turning out nearly as fun and exciting and interesting as I was hoping. So far all I got is sweeping, cake, and a radiator. And now I'm thinking about psychology. I warned you I was random.... though this isn't as random as you may think, considering what I just said. My psychology thinking has to do with early memories and why we remember what we do. Isn't it funny when you think back? Picture your earliest memories. Are they really random things that seem to have no significance whatsoever? Because mine definitely are. I mean, I have just a few really early memories... I'm talking from like before age 5 because from 5 on I can remember quite a bit. The earliest I can remember anything is from preschool and I have 3 memories from then. I swear... they are THE most random things ever for me to remember. One is of me lying down on a piece of paper being traced at preschool... like for me to color "myself" in later. I just have this clear image of staring up at the wall, trying to lie still. Does this fit the criteria to be considered random? Yes. Here's another. I remember seeing a girl in my preschool class at Chilis. I didn't know her name and we didn't even wave to each other, nevermind say anything. Yet, I remember which restaurant it was and I can see her face in my mind... she was holding her mom's hand. And the last preschool memory I have is from when I was at a friend's house. Her mom was talking to my mom. And this will sound crazy but I swear, I remember this sooo well. My friend's mom was saying how she was worried because they only have one bathroom in the house and what would they do if any two people in the family are sick at the same time? I don't remember what they were talking about before that statement or after it but I remember the statement itself very well. I was playing with my friend's dollhouse on a turn-table at the time when it was said. Ummm.... question mark!!!! How random are those memories? I don't remember feeling extra emotional in any way at those times... happy, confused, or anything. And yet, I remember them so well. Why on earth are those the only memories I have from before kindergarten? Please tell me your early memories are just as random and I'll feel a bit more comforted.
Wow... my blog kinda went from nowhere, to somewhere boring, to somewhere that's about as thought-provoking as I can get at 3:09 in the morning. And this conclusion is going somewhere great too. And I have the strange feeling that if I go to try to fall asleep again now I won't be able to... even though I can barely remember the last word I typed I'm so tired and even though I kinda already forgot what I'm talking about in this sentence. And the fact that I just actually typed talking as tlkaing first and then fixed it I think kinda proves something that I'm trying to prove here... though I'm not sure what it is. Ummm... I'm tired. yeah. I think I'm gunna try that sleep thing again. Hope it works out.
I'm going to try my best to stop rambling now and actually say something. What could I talk about? What are you interested in? What do you all want to hear about? I've been super sick for the past week... ehh, you don't want to hear about that. (See look... I'm reading your minds! I have that supernatural ability... bet you never knew that) Hmm... maybe that will interest you... other things I bet you don't know about me. Random things. Yes, I know I tend to be random anyways, but this topic could be fun. Let me explore and see where it leads me.....
Hmm... I bet none of you know that when I was younger I used to go into the woods and sweep (not rake... sweep) all the leaves away at this certain spot... and I'd carve at this dead tree with a plastic knife, determined to make it all the way through to the other side. I wanted to make it like my little secret spot in the woods. I'd go there all the time and sweep the leaves away... and I always hoped that when I came back the leaves would still be cleared and the wind wouldn't have moved them around. Okay, so I was naive... but I bet none of you knew I did that! Sorry... that one was kind of boring. But I like this whole child memory thing... I'm gunna roll with that.
I used to make cakes just to have a food fight. I'd put towels on the floor to avoid making a mess of the house. Don't know if my parents ever knew about that actually... probably not, or they would have been mad about my wasting food. What else.... I've only been in a hospital twice and they were both when I was a baby. One time was when I was just a few months... I had a super high fever or something and they had to give me a shot. Right, so that was a boring reason to be in a hospital. And the other time was because I ran into a radiator. That's right... picture little baby Trisha running and then going straight into a radiator and splitting her head open. I had to get stitches on my forehead and that's the only scar I have. I have fun imagining this one... I just can't imagine running into a radiator hard enough to do that to myself.
Okay, this whole blog thing isn't turning out nearly as fun and exciting and interesting as I was hoping. So far all I got is sweeping, cake, and a radiator. And now I'm thinking about psychology. I warned you I was random.... though this isn't as random as you may think, considering what I just said. My psychology thinking has to do with early memories and why we remember what we do. Isn't it funny when you think back? Picture your earliest memories. Are they really random things that seem to have no significance whatsoever? Because mine definitely are. I mean, I have just a few really early memories... I'm talking from like before age 5 because from 5 on I can remember quite a bit. The earliest I can remember anything is from preschool and I have 3 memories from then. I swear... they are THE most random things ever for me to remember. One is of me lying down on a piece of paper being traced at preschool... like for me to color "myself" in later. I just have this clear image of staring up at the wall, trying to lie still. Does this fit the criteria to be considered random? Yes. Here's another. I remember seeing a girl in my preschool class at Chilis. I didn't know her name and we didn't even wave to each other, nevermind say anything. Yet, I remember which restaurant it was and I can see her face in my mind... she was holding her mom's hand. And the last preschool memory I have is from when I was at a friend's house. Her mom was talking to my mom. And this will sound crazy but I swear, I remember this sooo well. My friend's mom was saying how she was worried because they only have one bathroom in the house and what would they do if any two people in the family are sick at the same time? I don't remember what they were talking about before that statement or after it but I remember the statement itself very well. I was playing with my friend's dollhouse on a turn-table at the time when it was said. Ummm.... question mark!!!! How random are those memories? I don't remember feeling extra emotional in any way at those times... happy, confused, or anything. And yet, I remember them so well. Why on earth are those the only memories I have from before kindergarten? Please tell me your early memories are just as random and I'll feel a bit more comforted.
Wow... my blog kinda went from nowhere, to somewhere boring, to somewhere that's about as thought-provoking as I can get at 3:09 in the morning. And this conclusion is going somewhere great too. And I have the strange feeling that if I go to try to fall asleep again now I won't be able to... even though I can barely remember the last word I typed I'm so tired and even though I kinda already forgot what I'm talking about in this sentence. And the fact that I just actually typed talking as tlkaing first and then fixed it I think kinda proves something that I'm trying to prove here... though I'm not sure what it is. Ummm... I'm tired. yeah. I think I'm gunna try that sleep thing again. Hope it works out.
Monday, July 11, 2005
I don't know how many of you ever check out my full profile in here... but it's just about my favorite part of the whole blogger website. Not all the boring, usual questions that ask me to list my "favorite movies" and "interests"... but the part down at the bottom that says "random question". This is the part I love and I think it should be at the top in bold and italics and bright colors to make it super stand out because it is that brilliant. If you know me at all, you know I am a fan of random questions... the more random the better... for I am a rather random person once one gets to know me. In case thou never checkeths my full profile, I hath decided to includeth my favoritest "random questions" here for your reading pleasure- umm... ith. AND furthermore, since this is my blog, I decided to type them here in bold and italics and bright colors to make them super stand out because they are that brilliant.
Random question 1: You have to dig a hole to China. Where do you start? Random answer 1: Preferably China... then I won't have a long way to go.
Random question 2: If mud is dirt plus water, what is clay? Random answer 2: If mud is dirt plus water, clay is clearly dirt plus water plus gray food coloring.
Random question 3: If you were a wrestler, what would be your finishing move? Random answer 3: It's a tough choice but I'd have to say the standing moonsault and just to show off I'd add in a stinger splash!
Random question 4: Whoops! Your tongue is now a magnet. Whatever will you use for silverware? Random answer 4: Uhh, plastic... duh!!!
Random question 5: The hair from your last haircut ... what would it say about your new style? Random answer 5: I could go the cheesy route and have it say something like "ahh you betrayed me" or I could have it tell the truth and say "you look pretty darn hot" ; )
Random question 6: All of the phone numbers have fallen out of your address book. Whose number do you look for first and why? Random answer 6: Who actually has address books anymore when cellphones hold like 600 numbers? But I'll play the game... Petey P's Pizza because I never know when I'll be hungry.
Random question 7: The first time you had your shoes taken off - how surprised were you to see that you still had toes? Random answer 7: I don't know about the first time, but it happened to me last night and boy was it a shocker!
Random question 8: Which is easier to make a model airplane out of and why: a banana peel or a wet sock? Random answer 8: I actually contemplated this for a good 7 seconds or so before answering and I think I came up with a rather correct response... it would depend what the sock were wet from... if it were wet from water I'd opt for the banana peel because you could at least knot and tie it's different sections... but the sock could be wet with starch and glue which would be easier to work with once it dried off a bit.
Random question 9: What was the stage name of your favorite actress before she was born? Random answer 9: Kiapheone McCormac.
Random question 10: What kind of tape is best for creating a sculpture? Random answer 10: Double sided tape is a miracle rolled on a ring.
Random question 11: You've written a hit musical! How will you avoid having fame go to your head? Random answer 11: The writers never get any credit compared to the stars so it won't be a problem.
Random question 12: If you were a pirate, how would you avoid laughing when saying "poop deck"? Random answer 12: If I were a pirate I suppose "poop deck" wouldn't be very funny... I mean, do you EVER see a pirate burst out in giggles?
Random question 13: What spells can you cast with magic markers? Random answer 13: A spell that will completely ruin your white walls and beige carpet.
Random question 14: Which is more important to you and why: flexibility or expandability? Random answer 14: Don't those words mean the same thing more or less... in my non-english major mind at least? I'd have to say expandability is more important because it's a longer word and longer words sound more important and impressive. Then again, is expandability even a word???
Random question 15: Why does the color blue mean raspberry-flavored? Random answer 15: Everything else was taken... yellow= lemon. Orange= well. orange. Purple= grape. Red= strawberry, watermelon, cherry. Green= apple. Blue= raspberry. Let me tell you something, green only equals apple because there were already three reds handed out... a fourth one would be too insane. When people decided that raspberries were loved enough to make into a flavor they couldn't give raspberry to red when they had denied apple that privilege... so they put yet another red fruit with the last color of the rainbow (because indigo never really counted). Hence, blue because raspberry.
I stopped at 15 random questions mostly for your sake... I hope now though you will occasionally check out my full profile and read the best part of the blog. It is updated more frequently than my actual blog... mostly because random questions intrigue me!
Random question 1: You have to dig a hole to China. Where do you start? Random answer 1: Preferably China... then I won't have a long way to go.
Random question 2: If mud is dirt plus water, what is clay? Random answer 2: If mud is dirt plus water, clay is clearly dirt plus water plus gray food coloring.
Random question 3: If you were a wrestler, what would be your finishing move? Random answer 3: It's a tough choice but I'd have to say the standing moonsault and just to show off I'd add in a stinger splash!
Random question 4: Whoops! Your tongue is now a magnet. Whatever will you use for silverware? Random answer 4: Uhh, plastic... duh!!!
Random question 5: The hair from your last haircut ... what would it say about your new style? Random answer 5: I could go the cheesy route and have it say something like "ahh you betrayed me" or I could have it tell the truth and say "you look pretty darn hot" ; )
Random question 6: All of the phone numbers have fallen out of your address book. Whose number do you look for first and why? Random answer 6: Who actually has address books anymore when cellphones hold like 600 numbers? But I'll play the game... Petey P's Pizza because I never know when I'll be hungry.
Random question 7: The first time you had your shoes taken off - how surprised were you to see that you still had toes? Random answer 7: I don't know about the first time, but it happened to me last night and boy was it a shocker!
Random question 8: Which is easier to make a model airplane out of and why: a banana peel or a wet sock? Random answer 8: I actually contemplated this for a good 7 seconds or so before answering and I think I came up with a rather correct response... it would depend what the sock were wet from... if it were wet from water I'd opt for the banana peel because you could at least knot and tie it's different sections... but the sock could be wet with starch and glue which would be easier to work with once it dried off a bit.
Random question 9: What was the stage name of your favorite actress before she was born? Random answer 9: Kiapheone McCormac.
Random question 10: What kind of tape is best for creating a sculpture? Random answer 10: Double sided tape is a miracle rolled on a ring.
Random question 11: You've written a hit musical! How will you avoid having fame go to your head? Random answer 11: The writers never get any credit compared to the stars so it won't be a problem.
Random question 12: If you were a pirate, how would you avoid laughing when saying "poop deck"? Random answer 12: If I were a pirate I suppose "poop deck" wouldn't be very funny... I mean, do you EVER see a pirate burst out in giggles?
Random question 13: What spells can you cast with magic markers? Random answer 13: A spell that will completely ruin your white walls and beige carpet.
Random question 14: Which is more important to you and why: flexibility or expandability? Random answer 14: Don't those words mean the same thing more or less... in my non-english major mind at least? I'd have to say expandability is more important because it's a longer word and longer words sound more important and impressive. Then again, is expandability even a word???
Random question 15: Why does the color blue mean raspberry-flavored? Random answer 15: Everything else was taken... yellow= lemon. Orange= well. orange. Purple= grape. Red= strawberry, watermelon, cherry. Green= apple. Blue= raspberry. Let me tell you something, green only equals apple because there were already three reds handed out... a fourth one would be too insane. When people decided that raspberries were loved enough to make into a flavor they couldn't give raspberry to red when they had denied apple that privilege... so they put yet another red fruit with the last color of the rainbow (because indigo never really counted). Hence, blue because raspberry.
I stopped at 15 random questions mostly for your sake... I hope now though you will occasionally check out my full profile and read the best part of the blog. It is updated more frequently than my actual blog... mostly because random questions intrigue me!
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Nothing funny about this post... just sharing some fun times I've had with you. That is, I'm sharing with you some fun times I've had... not that it's YOU I've had the fun times with... got it? good. Continuing...
So... I've said about eight times before in my blog that I absolutely love NYC. (side note: aren't you proud that I didn't actually reread my fourty slash fifty past posts to see exactly how many times I said I love New York??? For me, that's a big accomplishment because I often do crazy things like that for "fun". For example, in my second or third to last blog I actually went to shoprite.com to check how many hotdogs are sold in a package when the real number wasn't at all needed for my story. I tend to over-research things in a highly nerdy fashion. And although I fully admit I am a math nerd who has calculated things one should never calculate for fun, I have never once tried to calculate the volume of my school... haha K+K. Okay, that whole side note thing got more out of hand than I had hoped....) As I was saying, I've said how much I love NY a bazillion times in my blogs... and this is another blog that kind of follows in that general nature.
So, a couple of weeks ago this friend of mine randomly asked me if I wanted to go into NY the next day to see a show. Of course, I never turn down an offer to go into the city... although I did at first but that's besides the point because I ended up going. Approximately 18 or so hours after that phone call I was on the train. We waited in the Rent lottery... and lost, as always is our luck with show lotteries even though the rent lottery had about twenty zillion less people than the Wicked one ever did. So, instead of getting $20 front row seats we got $40 mezzanine seats... all works out. Get this straight here... two weeks ago I went to see Rent and a mere eleven days later I'm back in the city seeing two more shows.... in one word, a-mazing.
Fastforward 11 days from when I saw Rent and subtract a good six hours and that's exactly when I was sitting in another theater in NY watching The Producers. Add those six hours back and I'm seeing Wicked. I could have died during that 11 day break and those 11 days would still have been the best 11 days of my life... not really, but I just love NY and musicals... as if it wasn't known. Three broadway shows in under two weeks... how many more ways shall I state it? I'll stop there for your sake. So yeah, none of the shows were completely new to me... I've seen Rent and Wicked before and I've read The Producers script. Needless to say, they were all good. In The Producers there were a good five or so moments of improv which were hysterical and the show is hysterical on its own, so that was just a hysterical time... hysterical... had to say it once more. And in Wicked I actually got Ben Vereen's autograph before his five bodyguards pushed him away... if you don't know him then shame on you because I absolutely love him.... sigh. I now have two Wicked playbills, one signed by Idina and one by Benny V. ... what more could I want? Maybe six more Wicked playbills from future performances I haven't yet gone to, but besides that really...
As of right now, I have no future trips to NYC planned... but I'm ready to pencil one or two more in before I'm off to school again... I just love it. Sorry this wasn't the slightest bit funny... but I had to share my extreme joy and love of the city.
So... I've said about eight times before in my blog that I absolutely love NYC. (side note: aren't you proud that I didn't actually reread my fourty slash fifty past posts to see exactly how many times I said I love New York??? For me, that's a big accomplishment because I often do crazy things like that for "fun". For example, in my second or third to last blog I actually went to shoprite.com to check how many hotdogs are sold in a package when the real number wasn't at all needed for my story. I tend to over-research things in a highly nerdy fashion. And although I fully admit I am a math nerd who has calculated things one should never calculate for fun, I have never once tried to calculate the volume of my school... haha K+K. Okay, that whole side note thing got more out of hand than I had hoped....) As I was saying, I've said how much I love NY a bazillion times in my blogs... and this is another blog that kind of follows in that general nature.
So, a couple of weeks ago this friend of mine randomly asked me if I wanted to go into NY the next day to see a show. Of course, I never turn down an offer to go into the city... although I did at first but that's besides the point because I ended up going. Approximately 18 or so hours after that phone call I was on the train. We waited in the Rent lottery... and lost, as always is our luck with show lotteries even though the rent lottery had about twenty zillion less people than the Wicked one ever did. So, instead of getting $20 front row seats we got $40 mezzanine seats... all works out. Get this straight here... two weeks ago I went to see Rent and a mere eleven days later I'm back in the city seeing two more shows.... in one word, a-mazing.
Fastforward 11 days from when I saw Rent and subtract a good six hours and that's exactly when I was sitting in another theater in NY watching The Producers. Add those six hours back and I'm seeing Wicked. I could have died during that 11 day break and those 11 days would still have been the best 11 days of my life... not really, but I just love NY and musicals... as if it wasn't known. Three broadway shows in under two weeks... how many more ways shall I state it? I'll stop there for your sake. So yeah, none of the shows were completely new to me... I've seen Rent and Wicked before and I've read The Producers script. Needless to say, they were all good. In The Producers there were a good five or so moments of improv which were hysterical and the show is hysterical on its own, so that was just a hysterical time... hysterical... had to say it once more. And in Wicked I actually got Ben Vereen's autograph before his five bodyguards pushed him away... if you don't know him then shame on you because I absolutely love him.... sigh. I now have two Wicked playbills, one signed by Idina and one by Benny V. ... what more could I want? Maybe six more Wicked playbills from future performances I haven't yet gone to, but besides that really...
As of right now, I have no future trips to NYC planned... but I'm ready to pencil one or two more in before I'm off to school again... I just love it. Sorry this wasn't the slightest bit funny... but I had to share my extreme joy and love of the city.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Hmm... once again, I have little to say but I felt like writing... so I'm just gonna start this here post with whatever comes to mind and see what happens. I may end up just completely deleting this if it's no good... but if that happens you wouldn't be reading this now so..... riiiiiiiighttttttt..... don't know where I was going with that sentence exactly.... so I'll just awkwardly end it now, in the uncomfortable state it's in.
Summer's here. At least for people like me... in college that is. Not people like me as in people who begin writing blogs with nothing to say or something like that. Anyways, for all you highschoolers out there... you have to suffer another month or so... unless you're one of those private school "a la" Lauralton people who get out in May. Right.... like I was saying, it's summer. If you're a college student all summer means is you're back to curfews, you need to get a job, and you're forced to live hundreds of miles away from your "real home" where you now reside for 9 months of the year.... yes, you leave your friends and go back to "friends" you haven't talked to in a year other than a few "hi, how are you"s and "that's cool... sooo.... talk to you later?"s on AIM. Sigh. You know it to be true... this is why you are sighing with me. Just to clarify however, not all old highschool friends become "friends".... just most of them ;) I wanted to make sure I made that clear before I got a few phone calls slash angry IMs from my CT "ahem" friends.
For you current highschoolers slash seniors graduating this year, let me share with you some solid advice from a freshman year college survivor. First, about this whole "summer" business... you will come to learn that when you are away at school, you wish to be home. No school work, no classes to contemplate skipping, no realizing you can't buy those cheetos you've been desperately craving because you spent your last 75 cents on laundry.... when at school, you wish for home. But, there's a big but. When you're home, you desperately wish for school.... no cleaning your room unless you feel like it, only needing to walk across the hall to see your friends instead of having to drive across town, no cleaning your room unless you feel like it, and virtually no rules. Although it may seem like a lose-lose situation, it's so much better than high school. And your "home" becomes better than your home.... if you understand what I'm saying. And if you don't.... you're obviously still a highschooler... spend a year away at college and you'll know what I'm talking about.
Okay, that wasn't really "advice" there was it? It was more so what to expect. Here's some more "what to expect"ers. First.... bathroom related. You WILL have a shower stall that you call your own and even if the others are empty and yours is taken you will wait for yours to be free, rather than use another shower.... or at least seriously contemplate waiting. You will soon realize that it's not unusual to see four feet in the shower stall next to you. If you have co-ed bathrooms like my school, you will get over this much faster than you think... basically once a guy walks by in a towel. Again, on the same "if" as the previous sentence, you will forget that bathrooms in public places are not co-ed and you will go into the guys bathroom if the girl's is taken... and you will be awkwardly caught at least once. Haha... remind me to tell you a funny story about that in a future blog. And finally, you will have to get over the fact that everyone poops and it's not worth sitting in the stall waiting until everyone else in the bathroom leaves.
Now, on to the laundry related... yes, this is deserving of a category all it's own. You will, at least once, wear jeans for 13 days in a row without washing them, before realizing it's almost been two weeks... so then you check how much clean underwear you have left to decide if you should throw the jeans in the dirty wash and actually do laundry this weekend. You will most definitely celebrate whenever you find a quarter. You will have a pile of dirty clothes, a pile of once-used but not quite dirty clothes, and a pile of clothes used more than once but that you could use a couple more times without smelling too bad.
And the food??? Your breakfast will often consist of a Coke on the way to class. You will be grateful that the dining hall labels the food. Whenever you have a couple of spare dollars you check to see if anyone's willing to drive you to a Taco Bell or a Subway. By the end of the year you will probably have Domino's phone number memorized. Two meals a day is pretty much standard.
Classes... it won't phase you if a student walks into a class drunk, even if it's a 9:30 a.m. class. You will not know the names of well over half the people in your classes. Ten page papers used to sound impossible, now they're a godsend. You don't do homework you study. You can write in your textbook and not put a cover on it without getting yelled at. You will think $90 for a book is a fair price and will celebrate when you bring it back at the end of the semester, barely used, and get $6.50 in return. You will set your alarm in the morning for 8:52 to get to your 9:00 class, suddenly only 8 minutes are needed to get ready instead of an hour and a half like in high school. P.S.... about that 9:00 class there, you will realize that any class before 12:30 often gets slept through slash skipped due to sleep.
And the one everyone loves.... the social life... maybe that's an inadequate title here... let's just call it "fun". More often than not you will show up to a house party only to leave 15 minutes later because the keg has already been emptied, or it's so crowded you can't even see the front door. Related to that, parties are EXACTLY like they appear in the movies even though you thought they didn't really happen like that. Going to the library will be a social event. You will walk to check your mailbox two or three times a day for fun, and if you get a package then forget it, it's a time to celebrate!!! You will probably even pre-game on nights when the only place you go is to a free movie on campus. You will rediscover afternoon naps, and yes, an afternoon with a nap is considered a fun afternoon.
That's about all the "what to expect"ers I have for you. You may not experience all of the above. But I can promise you that one of your friends you make at college will experience the ones you don't. They're unavoidable. If you're already a returnee from college, please let me know if I have left something important out, or if (though very unlikely) you can not relate to my above situations. If this is the case I will add and delete items as I see fit. But really, I'm just kidding... I'm not going to change anything. And again, even if I did, you as the reader wouldn't know I did unless I told you which I'm not going to.... and I'm not sure how to end this sentence again sooooo it's ending.
Summer's here. At least for people like me... in college that is. Not people like me as in people who begin writing blogs with nothing to say or something like that. Anyways, for all you highschoolers out there... you have to suffer another month or so... unless you're one of those private school "a la" Lauralton people who get out in May. Right.... like I was saying, it's summer. If you're a college student all summer means is you're back to curfews, you need to get a job, and you're forced to live hundreds of miles away from your "real home" where you now reside for 9 months of the year.... yes, you leave your friends and go back to "friends" you haven't talked to in a year other than a few "hi, how are you"s and "that's cool... sooo.... talk to you later?"s on AIM. Sigh. You know it to be true... this is why you are sighing with me. Just to clarify however, not all old highschool friends become "friends".... just most of them ;) I wanted to make sure I made that clear before I got a few phone calls slash angry IMs from my CT "ahem" friends.
For you current highschoolers slash seniors graduating this year, let me share with you some solid advice from a freshman year college survivor. First, about this whole "summer" business... you will come to learn that when you are away at school, you wish to be home. No school work, no classes to contemplate skipping, no realizing you can't buy those cheetos you've been desperately craving because you spent your last 75 cents on laundry.... when at school, you wish for home. But, there's a big but. When you're home, you desperately wish for school.... no cleaning your room unless you feel like it, only needing to walk across the hall to see your friends instead of having to drive across town, no cleaning your room unless you feel like it, and virtually no rules. Although it may seem like a lose-lose situation, it's so much better than high school. And your "home" becomes better than your home.... if you understand what I'm saying. And if you don't.... you're obviously still a highschooler... spend a year away at college and you'll know what I'm talking about.
Okay, that wasn't really "advice" there was it? It was more so what to expect. Here's some more "what to expect"ers. First.... bathroom related. You WILL have a shower stall that you call your own and even if the others are empty and yours is taken you will wait for yours to be free, rather than use another shower.... or at least seriously contemplate waiting. You will soon realize that it's not unusual to see four feet in the shower stall next to you. If you have co-ed bathrooms like my school, you will get over this much faster than you think... basically once a guy walks by in a towel. Again, on the same "if" as the previous sentence, you will forget that bathrooms in public places are not co-ed and you will go into the guys bathroom if the girl's is taken... and you will be awkwardly caught at least once. Haha... remind me to tell you a funny story about that in a future blog. And finally, you will have to get over the fact that everyone poops and it's not worth sitting in the stall waiting until everyone else in the bathroom leaves.
Now, on to the laundry related... yes, this is deserving of a category all it's own. You will, at least once, wear jeans for 13 days in a row without washing them, before realizing it's almost been two weeks... so then you check how much clean underwear you have left to decide if you should throw the jeans in the dirty wash and actually do laundry this weekend. You will most definitely celebrate whenever you find a quarter. You will have a pile of dirty clothes, a pile of once-used but not quite dirty clothes, and a pile of clothes used more than once but that you could use a couple more times without smelling too bad.
And the food??? Your breakfast will often consist of a Coke on the way to class. You will be grateful that the dining hall labels the food. Whenever you have a couple of spare dollars you check to see if anyone's willing to drive you to a Taco Bell or a Subway. By the end of the year you will probably have Domino's phone number memorized. Two meals a day is pretty much standard.
Classes... it won't phase you if a student walks into a class drunk, even if it's a 9:30 a.m. class. You will not know the names of well over half the people in your classes. Ten page papers used to sound impossible, now they're a godsend. You don't do homework you study. You can write in your textbook and not put a cover on it without getting yelled at. You will think $90 for a book is a fair price and will celebrate when you bring it back at the end of the semester, barely used, and get $6.50 in return. You will set your alarm in the morning for 8:52 to get to your 9:00 class, suddenly only 8 minutes are needed to get ready instead of an hour and a half like in high school. P.S.... about that 9:00 class there, you will realize that any class before 12:30 often gets slept through slash skipped due to sleep.
And the one everyone loves.... the social life... maybe that's an inadequate title here... let's just call it "fun". More often than not you will show up to a house party only to leave 15 minutes later because the keg has already been emptied, or it's so crowded you can't even see the front door. Related to that, parties are EXACTLY like they appear in the movies even though you thought they didn't really happen like that. Going to the library will be a social event. You will walk to check your mailbox two or three times a day for fun, and if you get a package then forget it, it's a time to celebrate!!! You will probably even pre-game on nights when the only place you go is to a free movie on campus. You will rediscover afternoon naps, and yes, an afternoon with a nap is considered a fun afternoon.
That's about all the "what to expect"ers I have for you. You may not experience all of the above. But I can promise you that one of your friends you make at college will experience the ones you don't. They're unavoidable. If you're already a returnee from college, please let me know if I have left something important out, or if (though very unlikely) you can not relate to my above situations. If this is the case I will add and delete items as I see fit. But really, I'm just kidding... I'm not going to change anything. And again, even if I did, you as the reader wouldn't know I did unless I told you which I'm not going to.... and I'm not sure how to end this sentence again sooooo it's ending.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Okay, I realize it's been more than awhile since my last post. But a lot has been going on and I haven't had the time to think up any creative-yet-somewhat-true stories to share with you all. Forgive me, for I have returned.
First of all I just have to celebrate that I got a sweet suite in Keefe next year with some of my favorite Wheaton girls: Amy (my oh so cool future roomie), Sarah, Genna, Esther and Meg!!! Forever Young is our winning theme... don't ask what it means, it's just too complicated for my fingers' liking to type out for you all. Basically, we got a suite because we said we're going to act like kids and fingerpaint and stuff... sort of, not entirely our plan, but true enough for the case of this blog. If I can get a spot in one of the oh-so-competitive-to-get-into suites on campus just by saying I'm going to fingerpaint for the Wheaton community, then I must be Mel Gibson's son.... which I'm clearly not.... so there's more to it than fingerpainting. Now that I mention it though, I wonder where he lives off campus.... hmm....
Speaking of wondering, I've been wondering a lot lately. More crazy, stupid questions to collect in Trisha's not yet existent book entitled "Random Things You Unconciously Have Wondered All Your Life But Never Thought of Asking Until Now". I must give credit where it's due. Not all of the questions I will tell you about have been thought of or even researched by me. But they have all indeed struck my curiousity in ways that are inexplicable slash unexplainable... whichever you think sounds smarter. Nonetheless, I will be inserting in-text citations in the proper MLA format when necessary.... that is, I will give credit to the people who thought up the questions, but there's no way I'm actually going to cite where I got the answers... not like those random websites care anyways, the only people I'll hear from who "care" are those who thought up these questions and then yell at me that I stole their idea and published it in my blog. Moving on...
Though probably the weakest of all my thought provoking questions, it is the one that struck me first and opened my mind to the world of random questioning. While in the bathroom of the lovely Meadows East 3rd dormitory, I went to grab my toothbrush and proceeded to brush my teeth. I noticed that, yet again, my toothbrush holder was slightly ajar, exposing about four millimeters of my blue (or is it red?) toothbrush. This got me wondering, why don't they make toothbrush holders the right size to actually hold a toothbrush? You may think I'm crazy if you have not had this experience. Perhaps you have only used a toothbrush holder while vacationing, at which time you may have also used a TRAVEL-SIZED toothbrush, which works out quite nicely. But in the big boy world of toothbrushes, these toothbrush holders don't cut it. They're too small. It should be a one size fits all kinda thing, not a one size fits most!!! This has been a thorn in my thumb, or whatever that crazy expression is, for this whole year. Yes, it's kind of like the timeless "why do they sell hotdogs in packages of 8 and hotdog buns in packages of 12" question... but I bet you haven't heard the toothbrush holder one before! Just as a side note, when I went to shoprite.com to verify the correct number of hotdogs vs. buns that are sold in a package, I noticed that supermarket industry hotdog sellers got tired of this age-old question and started packaging both hotdogs AND their buns in packages of 8! Learn something new every day.... oh yes, and the credit here all goes to me (Carr, "Toothbrush").
Next question was raised, and researched by Miss Amy Lizbeth Breckenridge. Where do hamsters come from? I mean, you never see a hamster crossing the road, or running around in the woods. What's up with that? Where do they live? The answer to this one my friends is actually kind of cool... at least I think so.... in a nerdy kind of way. Hamsters were first "discovered" in 1839 in the Syrian desert in the Middle East.... so that's like Asia or Africa or something. For awhile they were thought to be extinct, but in 1930 a scientist in Syria found a girl hamster and her 11 babies. Only four of the little hams lived!!! Every hamster today is descended from those four brothers and sisters.... try not to think of it as incest, it's much more pleasant that way. They were smuggled into England in 1932 in the pocket of an unnamed zoologist and brought to the United States in 1938. Someone thought these little, furry mice like things from Asia/Africa would make good pets and they started breeding them alot more. Hamsters are "once again" extinct in the wild... none have actually been seen in Syria since two were captured by a rodent control officer in the 1980’s. Word is that if you spot one in Syria and report it they'll give you some award... not money I don't think.... more like an honorary plaque or something. Tell me honestly that that isn't cool and I'd bet $10 you were lying. That's a fun little history/biology/zoology question there I think!!!! (Breckenridge, "Hamsters").
Okay here's another one... why is it that the hair on your head can grow to be very long but the rest of the hair on your body "knows" when to stop growing at a certain length? Brian thought up this mind boggling phenomenon and I looked up the answer to this question... the answer of which goes way over my non-biology orienented brain. But I'll give a shot at explaining it with as few biolographic terms as possible. Okay, so your body hair has these hair follicle things and they're programmed to stop growing every couple of months or so versus head hair follicles which are programmed to grow for years at a time. Then there's something about growth phases, and rest phases, and hair falling out. It all boils down to, your body knows. Basically, that's the only law of biology I'll ever need to know. Your body knows what it's doing. Case closed. Still an interesting question. If you're a biology person I recommend looking up the real answer... it's probably really interesting if you understand it. (Gonsalves, "Hair").
Okay, next question, courtesy of Kurt Adametz. With heart transplant surgery, during that amount of time when you're heartless (when they removed your actual heart and have not yet fully sewn in your new-from-another-person's-chest heart) are you technically dead? That is, if you're heartless, your heart obviously can't be beating, and a beating heart is what makes you alive (in my non-biology world at least), so do you kind of die and come back to life? It may sound silly, but I bet you're intrigued. I had some people assure me that there was no way around "temporarily dying"... that "of course" that's what happened during a heart transplant, and "how could I think otherwise?". But these people were making fun of me and just testing me to see how gullible I was. Here's some relief... you don't die. During surgery, a heart-lung machine takes over the functions of the heart and lungs, freeing the heart from its normal function so that it can be removed. The use of the machine allows the surgeon to carefully stop the heart while the vital organs continue to receive blood and oxygen. Simple answer I suppose. I'm glad to know that if I ever need a heart transplant I won't have to go through a temporary death. (Adametz, "Heart").
This last question I have not yet been able to find a direct answer to. So if you can help me out, please do. I was just wondering, how many chickens die naturally nowadays... I mean, so many seem to be killed for food... how many out there actually die a natural death? What I really want to know is what percentage of all chickens that are born actually end up dying naturally. Like I said, no direct answer. Whenever I typed "chickens amount killed food die naturally" into google I only got about 8 million animal rights sites. I now know however that animal activists are angered about animals used for not only food, but also dairy, animal testing, clothing, pet shops and entertainment. I kind of already knew this, but I didn't know it was these significant six that showed up everywhere... it was like a list of the ten commandments or something.... 1,2,3,4,5,6, bim bam boom... a paragraph dedicated to the exact same reasons why animal activists are angry on every site. It's like the official rules to being an activist or something. I'm sorry, it's not something to joke around about. I'm kind of ashamed, looking back. Not enough to erase it all, but ashamed nonetheless. More pertinent to my actual question however is that 9 billion chickens are killed each year in the U.S. for food. And the most I've been able to gather from any one website is that that number is by far "the majority of chickens born each year". 20 million are killed each day in the U.S. When thinking up this question, I didn't want to find all these gruesome details that make me feel guilty about not being a vegetarian.... I wanted to know how many die naturally... which can be a beautiful thing.... natural death. Certainly better than the destiny 9 billion American chickens fulfill each year. Before answering the question I would have thought billions still die naturally... now, after visiting all these awful sites, I swear to you I wouldn't be shocked if the number last year was seven. This one, again... all me. (Carr, "Vegetarianism").
Some fun questions, huh? Get you thinking??? Good! I'm glad!!! I'm glad to have inspired you all to find out what makes hair mousse so puffy, why the sky actually is blue, and why the gas tank is on the left side of some cars and the right side of others. I'm also glad to have taught you a thing or two. My real question now is, once it's published will you go out and buy "Random Things You Unconciously Have Wondered All Your Life But Never Thought of Asking Until Now"?
First of all I just have to celebrate that I got a sweet suite in Keefe next year with some of my favorite Wheaton girls: Amy (my oh so cool future roomie), Sarah, Genna, Esther and Meg!!! Forever Young is our winning theme... don't ask what it means, it's just too complicated for my fingers' liking to type out for you all. Basically, we got a suite because we said we're going to act like kids and fingerpaint and stuff... sort of, not entirely our plan, but true enough for the case of this blog. If I can get a spot in one of the oh-so-competitive-to-get-into suites on campus just by saying I'm going to fingerpaint for the Wheaton community, then I must be Mel Gibson's son.... which I'm clearly not.... so there's more to it than fingerpainting. Now that I mention it though, I wonder where he lives off campus.... hmm....
Speaking of wondering, I've been wondering a lot lately. More crazy, stupid questions to collect in Trisha's not yet existent book entitled "Random Things You Unconciously Have Wondered All Your Life But Never Thought of Asking Until Now". I must give credit where it's due. Not all of the questions I will tell you about have been thought of or even researched by me. But they have all indeed struck my curiousity in ways that are inexplicable slash unexplainable... whichever you think sounds smarter. Nonetheless, I will be inserting in-text citations in the proper MLA format when necessary.... that is, I will give credit to the people who thought up the questions, but there's no way I'm actually going to cite where I got the answers... not like those random websites care anyways, the only people I'll hear from who "care" are those who thought up these questions and then yell at me that I stole their idea and published it in my blog. Moving on...
Though probably the weakest of all my thought provoking questions, it is the one that struck me first and opened my mind to the world of random questioning. While in the bathroom of the lovely Meadows East 3rd dormitory, I went to grab my toothbrush and proceeded to brush my teeth. I noticed that, yet again, my toothbrush holder was slightly ajar, exposing about four millimeters of my blue (or is it red?) toothbrush. This got me wondering, why don't they make toothbrush holders the right size to actually hold a toothbrush? You may think I'm crazy if you have not had this experience. Perhaps you have only used a toothbrush holder while vacationing, at which time you may have also used a TRAVEL-SIZED toothbrush, which works out quite nicely. But in the big boy world of toothbrushes, these toothbrush holders don't cut it. They're too small. It should be a one size fits all kinda thing, not a one size fits most!!! This has been a thorn in my thumb, or whatever that crazy expression is, for this whole year. Yes, it's kind of like the timeless "why do they sell hotdogs in packages of 8 and hotdog buns in packages of 12" question... but I bet you haven't heard the toothbrush holder one before! Just as a side note, when I went to shoprite.com to verify the correct number of hotdogs vs. buns that are sold in a package, I noticed that supermarket industry hotdog sellers got tired of this age-old question and started packaging both hotdogs AND their buns in packages of 8! Learn something new every day.... oh yes, and the credit here all goes to me (Carr, "Toothbrush").
Next question was raised, and researched by Miss Amy Lizbeth Breckenridge. Where do hamsters come from? I mean, you never see a hamster crossing the road, or running around in the woods. What's up with that? Where do they live? The answer to this one my friends is actually kind of cool... at least I think so.... in a nerdy kind of way. Hamsters were first "discovered" in 1839 in the Syrian desert in the Middle East.... so that's like Asia or Africa or something. For awhile they were thought to be extinct, but in 1930 a scientist in Syria found a girl hamster and her 11 babies. Only four of the little hams lived!!! Every hamster today is descended from those four brothers and sisters.... try not to think of it as incest, it's much more pleasant that way. They were smuggled into England in 1932 in the pocket of an unnamed zoologist and brought to the United States in 1938. Someone thought these little, furry mice like things from Asia/Africa would make good pets and they started breeding them alot more. Hamsters are "once again" extinct in the wild... none have actually been seen in Syria since two were captured by a rodent control officer in the 1980’s. Word is that if you spot one in Syria and report it they'll give you some award... not money I don't think.... more like an honorary plaque or something. Tell me honestly that that isn't cool and I'd bet $10 you were lying. That's a fun little history/biology/zoology question there I think!!!! (Breckenridge, "Hamsters").
Okay here's another one... why is it that the hair on your head can grow to be very long but the rest of the hair on your body "knows" when to stop growing at a certain length? Brian thought up this mind boggling phenomenon and I looked up the answer to this question... the answer of which goes way over my non-biology orienented brain. But I'll give a shot at explaining it with as few biolographic terms as possible. Okay, so your body hair has these hair follicle things and they're programmed to stop growing every couple of months or so versus head hair follicles which are programmed to grow for years at a time. Then there's something about growth phases, and rest phases, and hair falling out. It all boils down to, your body knows. Basically, that's the only law of biology I'll ever need to know. Your body knows what it's doing. Case closed. Still an interesting question. If you're a biology person I recommend looking up the real answer... it's probably really interesting if you understand it. (Gonsalves, "Hair").
Okay, next question, courtesy of Kurt Adametz. With heart transplant surgery, during that amount of time when you're heartless (when they removed your actual heart and have not yet fully sewn in your new-from-another-person's-chest heart) are you technically dead? That is, if you're heartless, your heart obviously can't be beating, and a beating heart is what makes you alive (in my non-biology world at least), so do you kind of die and come back to life? It may sound silly, but I bet you're intrigued. I had some people assure me that there was no way around "temporarily dying"... that "of course" that's what happened during a heart transplant, and "how could I think otherwise?". But these people were making fun of me and just testing me to see how gullible I was. Here's some relief... you don't die. During surgery, a heart-lung machine takes over the functions of the heart and lungs, freeing the heart from its normal function so that it can be removed. The use of the machine allows the surgeon to carefully stop the heart while the vital organs continue to receive blood and oxygen. Simple answer I suppose. I'm glad to know that if I ever need a heart transplant I won't have to go through a temporary death. (Adametz, "Heart").
This last question I have not yet been able to find a direct answer to. So if you can help me out, please do. I was just wondering, how many chickens die naturally nowadays... I mean, so many seem to be killed for food... how many out there actually die a natural death? What I really want to know is what percentage of all chickens that are born actually end up dying naturally. Like I said, no direct answer. Whenever I typed "chickens amount killed food die naturally" into google I only got about 8 million animal rights sites. I now know however that animal activists are angered about animals used for not only food, but also dairy, animal testing, clothing, pet shops and entertainment. I kind of already knew this, but I didn't know it was these significant six that showed up everywhere... it was like a list of the ten commandments or something.... 1,2,3,4,5,6, bim bam boom... a paragraph dedicated to the exact same reasons why animal activists are angry on every site. It's like the official rules to being an activist or something. I'm sorry, it's not something to joke around about. I'm kind of ashamed, looking back. Not enough to erase it all, but ashamed nonetheless. More pertinent to my actual question however is that 9 billion chickens are killed each year in the U.S. for food. And the most I've been able to gather from any one website is that that number is by far "the majority of chickens born each year". 20 million are killed each day in the U.S. When thinking up this question, I didn't want to find all these gruesome details that make me feel guilty about not being a vegetarian.... I wanted to know how many die naturally... which can be a beautiful thing.... natural death. Certainly better than the destiny 9 billion American chickens fulfill each year. Before answering the question I would have thought billions still die naturally... now, after visiting all these awful sites, I swear to you I wouldn't be shocked if the number last year was seven. This one, again... all me. (Carr, "Vegetarianism").
Some fun questions, huh? Get you thinking??? Good! I'm glad!!! I'm glad to have inspired you all to find out what makes hair mousse so puffy, why the sky actually is blue, and why the gas tank is on the left side of some cars and the right side of others. I'm also glad to have taught you a thing or two. My real question now is, once it's published will you go out and buy "Random Things You Unconciously Have Wondered All Your Life But Never Thought of Asking Until Now"?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
I have some very sad news. I forgot to celebrate my one year anniversary of blogging on January 29th. I was going to write a very special post, commemorating this past year... but instead I was probably out with my dance friends having fun. So tragic.
So yes, I have now been blogging for over a year and I have a mere 44 posts, this being number 46. Wait, that doesn't make sense... erase that.... this being number 45. That's better. Sigh. What has become of my life during this past year? I graduated high school and have now completed my first semester at Wheaton, but what does it all mean.... what is the significance? I should take a philosophy class... I'm good at asking random, thought-provoking yet utterly pointless questions that I don't really care about answering. Actually, it's my goal to graduate Wheaton without ever having to take any philosophy class... I'd rather avoid the controversial topic of "the nature of reality" if I can help it.
The classes I actually am taking this semester are pretty cool. My prof for Calc II is Napoleon Dynamite and my Macro prof wears size 15 shoes. In French we're currently learning the alphabet and in my poetry writing class we're learning to "hear the words that live in silence". My psych class I have nothing fun to say about except that it's really cool and interesting and I actually have friends in that class. I should have a pretty easy semester... I don't have to write one paper in any of my classes and I'll only have 2 finals. Woot woot!
I've honestly spent more time on dance than I have on work lately. I had to come back to Wheaton two weeks early for the dance company. Each day was 8 hours of dancing and we learned like 4 new pieces and cleaned everything else up. Let me say that again because I don't think you fully comprehended what I just said. Each day was 8 hours of dancing... do you realize what that really means?!?!?! It was exhausting. Lately, we've been running our entire show like everyday which is just as tiring as preseason was. In one week we start onstage rehearsals and a week after that we have our performances and we're done for the year! Woot woot times two this time!
About the only good thing about preseason was that I became alot closer with my dance co. girls. We hung out quite a bit and now we'll spend the occasional weekend going out together. We've had some fun times!!! I'm glad that now I have two strong groups of friends up here... my original Young 1sters and the younger half of my dance co. girls. I don't feel like going through the whole friend introduction like I did with my Young 1st friends, so from now on just recognize these names as being my dance co. friends (along with their brief intros): Rachel (my fellow math nerd and supercool Texan friend), Stephanie (Young 3rder who I LOVE), Lauren (uppercampus dweller who's really funny), Amy (a friendly girl who lives in a basement and has pooping issues), Susan (a gebbie goddess who is super sweet), and Kurt (the guy who's not in the dance company but should be). Got it? Good! Moving on then....
I moved rooms too, now I'm in Meadows East... a much larger, noisier, non-wellness dorm on campus. It'll take some getting used to, but it isn't half bad. And I still (illegally) have my key to get into Young so I can go back and visit my friends there whenever I want. My new roommate is a sophomore from Florida. She seems cool but is barely ever in the room so I haven't really gotten to know her. I swear that the only times she is in the room is when she's dropping off more new dvds she just bought.... I swear that this girl is a living Blockbuster store.
Tonight's the superbowl. I won't be watching. I will be sitting in my room, doing my hw, secretly hoping that the Eagles win. Did I just say that, living in New England?!?!?!? I think I did!!! :0
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Saturday was my annual dance party. Always changing in its style, but always fun. When we were younger, this party consisted of swinging on hammocks while squirting people with water, riding down the stairs in sleeping bags, singing Big Spender 800 times during the night, wearing cups and other kitchen paper products as clothing, and calling male strippers. Now we are much more mature. Events have changed to playing telephone, trying to levitate people in chairs, writing in lipstick on windows, talking to turkeys, butt cherades, and playing truth or dare with ghosts (much to Catie's freaked-out-ness). They may not sound more mature... but the party in itself is much more mature than it was. The only constant thing that hasn't changed over the years is the writing game and my brother's brownies that he never fails to fail at making. One thing's for sure, it's always fun no matter how old we get.
This year was a good group of people. Almost everyone who normally comes was there, plus some new people who I love.... no one real young this year which probably accounts for why the party was so much more mature in its nature... as I proved in the previous paragraph. The movie this year was Identity, which I didn't like but could enjoy watching. You know the type I'm talking about. Identity is your typical horror movie... ten people get stranded together at this run-down hotel and they start getting killed off one by one. They should have just called it Your Typical Horror Movie. Okay, that was a bad joke... now I have to try to save myself throughout the rest of this blog... (I hate when I do that to myself!!!) There was a weird psychological twist though which was partially cool and partially ruined the movie for me. There were some valuable lessons hidden in the movie too. For instance, never worry about a convicted murderer... he's too obvious to be the killer. Also, when trying to figure out who the murderer is, always be suspicious of a little kid... especially if his mother and father both were killed... what better reason to kill someone than if they make you eat your vegetables? The best one though, which I will always carry with me, is this... whores don't get second chances. So don't become a whore... you won't get a second chance.
Jaime, Steph Smith, and I stayed up the whole night. An accomplishment that all sleepover-goers aim for. I am proud to say though that I am the champion. Not only was I up the whole night, but I stayed awake that entire day... until 1:00 that next morning. A straight 39 hours beat everyone's "I was awake from 7 that night until noon the next day". Ha! That's childish now compared to my feat of awakedness!!! Anyone care to challenge me next year? I dare you!!!
This year was a good group of people. Almost everyone who normally comes was there, plus some new people who I love.... no one real young this year which probably accounts for why the party was so much more mature in its nature... as I proved in the previous paragraph. The movie this year was Identity, which I didn't like but could enjoy watching. You know the type I'm talking about. Identity is your typical horror movie... ten people get stranded together at this run-down hotel and they start getting killed off one by one. They should have just called it Your Typical Horror Movie. Okay, that was a bad joke... now I have to try to save myself throughout the rest of this blog... (I hate when I do that to myself!!!) There was a weird psychological twist though which was partially cool and partially ruined the movie for me. There were some valuable lessons hidden in the movie too. For instance, never worry about a convicted murderer... he's too obvious to be the killer. Also, when trying to figure out who the murderer is, always be suspicious of a little kid... especially if his mother and father both were killed... what better reason to kill someone than if they make you eat your vegetables? The best one though, which I will always carry with me, is this... whores don't get second chances. So don't become a whore... you won't get a second chance.
Jaime, Steph Smith, and I stayed up the whole night. An accomplishment that all sleepover-goers aim for. I am proud to say though that I am the champion. Not only was I up the whole night, but I stayed awake that entire day... until 1:00 that next morning. A straight 39 hours beat everyone's "I was awake from 7 that night until noon the next day". Ha! That's childish now compared to my feat of awakedness!!! Anyone care to challenge me next year? I dare you!!!
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
I'm obsessed with the musical Wicked. In fact, it goes beyond mere obsession. I'd say I'm mildly addicted to it. For the past however many months I've listened to the cd on average 2.5 times a day, downloaded as many video clips as I could find, read the complete script, continuosly checked the Wicked forums and fan sites, and put favorite quotes in my profile. I had not, however, ever seen the show. Until yesterday. The day my life became complete...
I introduced Miss Kimberly Dolberg to the amazing musical that is Wicked several months ago. Since that day, she has only grown as obsessed with it as I am. For her 18th birthday she happened to recieve 2 tickets to see the performance during Idina Menzel's last week. Idina Menzel IS Wicked; she makes the show... I told her I would happily accompany her if she needed someone to go with. OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! I was quite excited.
The show itself was UNBELIEVABLE! I thought that knowing the entire script by heart would be a disadvantage for me and I wouldn't be able to appreciate alot of the "surprise" aspects of the show... including the jokes. I couldn't have been more wrong. How I read the script in my mind at home was sooooo different from how the actors portrayed the characters. It was exciting to watch and absolutely hilarious! The special effects were different from how I imagined them to be and the performers switched up how they sang alot of the songs too which kept me on the edge of my seat... something I didn't expect! I was so emotional that it was just.... well, disgusting. I've always thought those people who go to like a John Mayer concert or something and cry just from seeing him were ridiculous. But.... there I was.... in the Gershwin theater.... crying for no reason the minute the curtain opened. I was finally seeing what I had been obsessing over for so many months. It was unreal.
Let me make one thing clear before I go any further. When I say crying, I mean crying. I can't explain it. It was the most amazing feeling! I literally thought for a minute that during intermission some usher or somebody would come over to see if I was okay. I kept trying to control the tears throughout the whole show. Now that we understand the real meaning of "crying" I may continue.
All of the actors' performances were flawless. Idina literally sounds better live than on the cd which absolutely blew me away. That never happens with a performer. She was unbelievable! Jennifer Laura Thompson who plays Glinda was hilarious! I never saw Kristin Chenoweth (she originated the part) play the role, but I could tell just from listening to her portrayal on the CD that Jennifer made the role her own. She was totally different from how I expected Glinda to be and it worked beautifully! I could not stop laughing whenever she was onstage. Joey McIntyre was in it and he was way better than I expected. This was one case where bringing a pop singer into a musical to try to increase its ticket sales didn't ruin the show. He was actually really good and fit right into that broadway stage! It was really just unbelievable. I'd give anything to go back and see it again.
After hearing Idina and Jennifer prance around to "I like chocolate, I like cheese" we ran to the stagedoor to get autographs. Well... I didn't HEAR them prance around, but they were singing/laughing and kinda jumping around after the curtain call. Wickedly funny! Pun intended. While waiting for Idina to take all of her green makeup off, Kim and I stood around, sandwiched between 800 other fans. Some group of girls in front of us were beyond fans. They acted like they knew her. One of them had seen the show 11 times. Do you realize that's over $1000? Anyways, some little girl had a gift she had wrapped to give Idina and these girls were like "Oh, don't worry! She'll take your gift. She loves little kids. And Joby will open it for her... she always does!" Apparently Joby is Idina's personal assistant who handles threatening gifts from children that may be bombs in disguise. But these girls were rattling off all little things they knew about Idina, like her personal assistant's first name. I swear, I wouldn't have been surprised if they said that Idina uses their apartment to hide away from the fans and that they've had several sleepover bonding sessions complete with home movies and doritos. Ever since then I've felt very competitive about this "who know's Idina better" kinda thing. We wanted to be like... "oh yeah? What kind of toothpaste does she use? Don't know that one do ya? Huh? Huh?!?! HUH?!?!? .... It's Crest, so there!". And later on, when on the train, we saw someone else with a Wicked program and I swear I wanted to be like, "hmm... I notice you don't have any autographs. Well, I happen to have Joey Mac's, Jennifer's, and one of the twenty-out-of-800-one's that Idina actually signed! Jealous now, aren't ya?" I really am too big of a fan. Something is wrong.
I said to Kim that if they ever make a movie of it I will be in trouble. I think I would literally watch it every day. That's not healthy. Simply put, Wicked was insane. I have never been so totally absorbed in something for 3 hours before in my life. And... I've never cried that much out of sheer excitement before. And... I think last night was the first time my competitive side came out. And... I can't wait till I can go again! Woot woot for Wicked!!!!
I introduced Miss Kimberly Dolberg to the amazing musical that is Wicked several months ago. Since that day, she has only grown as obsessed with it as I am. For her 18th birthday she happened to recieve 2 tickets to see the performance during Idina Menzel's last week. Idina Menzel IS Wicked; she makes the show... I told her I would happily accompany her if she needed someone to go with. OMG! OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! I was quite excited.
The show itself was UNBELIEVABLE! I thought that knowing the entire script by heart would be a disadvantage for me and I wouldn't be able to appreciate alot of the "surprise" aspects of the show... including the jokes. I couldn't have been more wrong. How I read the script in my mind at home was sooooo different from how the actors portrayed the characters. It was exciting to watch and absolutely hilarious! The special effects were different from how I imagined them to be and the performers switched up how they sang alot of the songs too which kept me on the edge of my seat... something I didn't expect! I was so emotional that it was just.... well, disgusting. I've always thought those people who go to like a John Mayer concert or something and cry just from seeing him were ridiculous. But.... there I was.... in the Gershwin theater.... crying for no reason the minute the curtain opened. I was finally seeing what I had been obsessing over for so many months. It was unreal.
Let me make one thing clear before I go any further. When I say crying, I mean crying. I can't explain it. It was the most amazing feeling! I literally thought for a minute that during intermission some usher or somebody would come over to see if I was okay. I kept trying to control the tears throughout the whole show. Now that we understand the real meaning of "crying" I may continue.
All of the actors' performances were flawless. Idina literally sounds better live than on the cd which absolutely blew me away. That never happens with a performer. She was unbelievable! Jennifer Laura Thompson who plays Glinda was hilarious! I never saw Kristin Chenoweth (she originated the part) play the role, but I could tell just from listening to her portrayal on the CD that Jennifer made the role her own. She was totally different from how I expected Glinda to be and it worked beautifully! I could not stop laughing whenever she was onstage. Joey McIntyre was in it and he was way better than I expected. This was one case where bringing a pop singer into a musical to try to increase its ticket sales didn't ruin the show. He was actually really good and fit right into that broadway stage! It was really just unbelievable. I'd give anything to go back and see it again.
After hearing Idina and Jennifer prance around to "I like chocolate, I like cheese" we ran to the stagedoor to get autographs. Well... I didn't HEAR them prance around, but they were singing/laughing and kinda jumping around after the curtain call. Wickedly funny! Pun intended. While waiting for Idina to take all of her green makeup off, Kim and I stood around, sandwiched between 800 other fans. Some group of girls in front of us were beyond fans. They acted like they knew her. One of them had seen the show 11 times. Do you realize that's over $1000? Anyways, some little girl had a gift she had wrapped to give Idina and these girls were like "Oh, don't worry! She'll take your gift. She loves little kids. And Joby will open it for her... she always does!" Apparently Joby is Idina's personal assistant who handles threatening gifts from children that may be bombs in disguise. But these girls were rattling off all little things they knew about Idina, like her personal assistant's first name. I swear, I wouldn't have been surprised if they said that Idina uses their apartment to hide away from the fans and that they've had several sleepover bonding sessions complete with home movies and doritos. Ever since then I've felt very competitive about this "who know's Idina better" kinda thing. We wanted to be like... "oh yeah? What kind of toothpaste does she use? Don't know that one do ya? Huh? Huh?!?! HUH?!?!? .... It's Crest, so there!". And later on, when on the train, we saw someone else with a Wicked program and I swear I wanted to be like, "hmm... I notice you don't have any autographs. Well, I happen to have Joey Mac's, Jennifer's, and one of the twenty-out-of-800-one's that Idina actually signed! Jealous now, aren't ya?" I really am too big of a fan. Something is wrong.
I said to Kim that if they ever make a movie of it I will be in trouble. I think I would literally watch it every day. That's not healthy. Simply put, Wicked was insane. I have never been so totally absorbed in something for 3 hours before in my life. And... I've never cried that much out of sheer excitement before. And... I think last night was the first time my competitive side came out. And... I can't wait till I can go again! Woot woot for Wicked!!!!
Saturday, December 11, 2004
The topic of this here post is work. Not the study/take notes/do problems 1-32 kind of work that all college students can associate with. But my good old $7/hr. job in the admissions office. Two hours of work, 3 times a week is enough to make me go crazy. I know that's only 6 hours, but it's still 6 hours at a computer, typing in people's SAT scores over and over and over again. Then, I end up integrating "verbal" and "math" into my conversations for the next 2 days, at which point I go to work again and repeat the process. Trust me, it's enough to make me mad. My only "fun" at work is when I happen to find someone from Amity, which gets me way more excited than it should, or someone with an amazingly weird name that I can laugh at. So far Beauregard Goodnite wins. No joke. Real name. In order to retain my sanity, I listen to other people's conversations from the other room and routinely check my email every 15 minutes. Nothing too exciting. The most shocking thing I've seen is some lady who still uses a typewriter instead of a computer. I can't stand that clicking sound any more! Why use a typewriter??? I just don't understand. Stuck in the old-fashioned ways. So, as I said... nothing too exciting. Yesterday though I heard a story that got me thinking.....
So, some other student walks into the back room who had just given a tour. He starts rambling on about some kid in the tour who complained that he was "aesthetically allergic" to the dorm rooms. I'm sorry... but that is a physical incapability. You can't be aesthetically allergic to something unless you're.... ehh, couldn't think of anyone good enough..... so, nobody. But this got me thinking..... you know, what if this kid was a first? Then Wheaton should grab him! Sure, he'd have a hard time living on campus, but think of it..... Wheaton has the first human to ever be aesthetically allergic to something!!! That's insane! We could experiment on him and stuff, and see how it's possible. I mean, just imagine.....
First day of the semester, he walks into his new room and immediately starts sneezing. Let's just call him Beauregard. So, Beauregard starts sneezing. His roommate gives him a weird look. "Allergic to dust?", he asks. "No. I'm aesthetically allergic to the room", Beauregard replies. The roommate says "Oh! You're that kid! I'm so honored to be your roommate. You're the first of your kind you know.... we could party together and then I could be known as the "aesthetically allergic" kid's cool friend". Beauregard sneezes in response....
I mean, it's a perfect start. Too bad we won't be taking him. I heard the tour guide say something about the no admittance rule for aesthetically allergic people. It could have been really beautiful. It's a shame...
So you can imagine how bored I must have been at work to dream up this scene in my head. The moral of the story, don't work for data entry in an admissions office...... and....... don't name your kid Beauregard Goodnite....... and........ don't say your aesthetically allergic to something unless you mean it, because then everyone will make fun of you behind your back, and since it is, after all, a physical incapability, just don't say it at all. People will think you're weird.
So, some other student walks into the back room who had just given a tour. He starts rambling on about some kid in the tour who complained that he was "aesthetically allergic" to the dorm rooms. I'm sorry... but that is a physical incapability. You can't be aesthetically allergic to something unless you're.... ehh, couldn't think of anyone good enough..... so, nobody. But this got me thinking..... you know, what if this kid was a first? Then Wheaton should grab him! Sure, he'd have a hard time living on campus, but think of it..... Wheaton has the first human to ever be aesthetically allergic to something!!! That's insane! We could experiment on him and stuff, and see how it's possible. I mean, just imagine.....
First day of the semester, he walks into his new room and immediately starts sneezing. Let's just call him Beauregard. So, Beauregard starts sneezing. His roommate gives him a weird look. "Allergic to dust?", he asks. "No. I'm aesthetically allergic to the room", Beauregard replies. The roommate says "Oh! You're that kid! I'm so honored to be your roommate. You're the first of your kind you know.... we could party together and then I could be known as the "aesthetically allergic" kid's cool friend". Beauregard sneezes in response....
I mean, it's a perfect start. Too bad we won't be taking him. I heard the tour guide say something about the no admittance rule for aesthetically allergic people. It could have been really beautiful. It's a shame...
So you can imagine how bored I must have been at work to dream up this scene in my head. The moral of the story, don't work for data entry in an admissions office...... and....... don't name your kid Beauregard Goodnite....... and........ don't say your aesthetically allergic to something unless you mean it, because then everyone will make fun of you behind your back, and since it is, after all, a physical incapability, just don't say it at all. People will think you're weird.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
I have a new obsession... if you want to call it that. When I was back in CT I watched all 5 Star Wars movies with Brian. I had never seen them before and Brian wants me to see the 6th one with him in May so we rented them all. No, my new obsession isn't Star Wars... I'm going to keep you in suspense for awhile about what it really is. At this point only Brian knows my new obsession... well there's really two. I mention both of them in here, but you'll probably only catch one of them. I flat out state it later. Three gold coins to anyone who figures it out. Back to what I was saying though, I did enjoy the movies and I'll admit I got pretty into them. I had fun watching with Brian. I liked C3PO the most... mainly because he waddled like a penguin. Yoda was fun too. I kept telling Brian that I thought he sounded exactly like Fozzy from the muppets and then laughed when I found out it was the same guy who did their voices. Brian and I "argued" for a bit over Natalie Portman and which character she played... I eventually realized he was right... but I didn't let him know that of course! ;) Plus, now I want to have a cat and name it Palpy, and only Brian and I will know why! I love sharing secrets but not explaining what they mean online... so much fun! =) Here's another secret you won't understand... I want to hibernate! Since I'm in the sharing secret mood I'll let you in on one of my obsessions. I didn't fall in love with Luke Starkiller in the movie, but I did fall in love with the music. Whenever it was playing in the background I HAD to sing along, complete with composer-like arm movements... with the words being "da da da, dun dun dun, dun dun dun". I still have the songs stuck in my head. Ever since that I've been obsessed with movie music. Like, I saw Finding Neverland the other day (amazing movie by the way) and got sooo into the music. Then, when we were watching The Matrix in my FYS it was the music that impressed me, more so than the movie. Yea for movie soundtracks!!! This is the shortest blog I've written in a loooooong time... probably because I just blogged yesterday. This WAS going to be the topic of yesterday's blog before the blog decided to take control and head itself in another direction. Can you belive it? Two blogs in a row!!! I'm so proud.
Monday, November 29, 2004
So my blogs have been diminishing in number.... as my faithful readers constantly remind me. If you notice, I've started the last 3 blogs or so with a very similar opening sentence to the one I just wrote. The topic is always how long it's been since my last blog. Do me a favor and let's just get over it. I'm at college and I have more to do than just sit at my laptop and type out little stories for you to read. Although I guarantee that if I fully "broke up" with blogger.com my addiction would force me to return in a month or two. I already tried giving up altogether and permanently stopping.... didn't work.
I just came back from Turkey Day break... a good 6 days off (thatwasonlysuppossedtobe5BUT... Iskippedaclassandleftadayearly) **stage note** read part in parentheses very quickly, as if one word, only pausing after the drawn out "BUT". I guess it would have been better if this came before the line I'm talking about. **fine**. Yup, one day short of a week in the town that I called home for fifteen years down in good old CT (note: that's C.T., pronounced "see tea", not "connecticut".... just because that's how I said it in my mind while I was typing and it's more amusing than just saying connecticut). Okay, I'll stop with the authors side-note-scribbles now, I promise. This time I really enjoyed being back home and wanted to stay longer.... versus October break where I was happy to come back to Wheaton. I wonder which one will win in the longrun as the "better" place to be. I could draw a comparison for you.... a rather, nontraditional one that is.....
Why nontraditional? I've got friends in CT, friends at Wheaton. A bed in CT, a bed at Wheaton. Poptarts for dinner in CT, poptarts for dinner at Wheaton. The traditional stuff is there wherever I am. It's the nontraditional stuff that's more fun to analyze rather than just saying Brian and Missy are in CT but freedom and dance are at Wheaton. Much more fun. So here's the real list....
1)At Wheaton I'm after quarters. I scrounge around like every other Wheatie.... waiting for my sixth sense to kick in whenever I'm within 20 feet of a loose quarter. It's like a radar system that every college kid who has to pay for laundry and vending machine munchies is equipped with. Much too lazy to walk to the bank and ask for a roll of quarters, we bargain to give friends a dollar bill for merely one of their precious quarters. We're careful to check they're not handing us any Canadian coins which the machines dutifully spit back at us. (How do the machines know the difference anyway?) Cheap kids we thought were our friends who try to jip us with their "counterfeit" money. Face it... at college, quarters are gold. You're lost without them. Or at least you're a hungry kid who has smelly clothes. It gets just about as crazy on campus when the change machine is broken as it did the day that Kerry lost to Bush. Now in CT do you think I would ever hand someone a dollar bill and only ask for a quarter back? Wouldn't happen. I live in Orange remember, where you need at least $600 to spend when you go to the mall or else you'd become the "poor kid" who only left with three bags of Abercrombie clothes instead of four. At college quarters are gold. In Orange, gold isn't even gold..... unless it's diamonds. ..... I confused myself.... nevermind.
2) At Wheaton my only "chore" is to do laundry. At home, pretty much my only chore is laundry too. The same chore can be so different depending on the location. I already mentioned the quarter situation. Conversely to what you may be thinking, the fact that I have to pay for laundry at Wheaton makes the task of getting it done at school easier. You see, if I'm doing laundry at school, then that means I've raked up enough quarters to actually get it done.... which is an accomplishment in itself. At this point, I'm so happy that I've managed to find $2.25 in quarters, that doing the laundry itself is a sort of perverted reward. Whereas at home the only reward is that I stop getting yelled at about it. Plus, at school I have to do it for myself so I don't start rewearing dirty clothes and become known as the smelly kid on campus. At home I have enough random clothes that I could probably get away with not doing my laundry for a good few months before running out of clean ones became an issue. The only reason I "have to" do it at home is because my mom tells me so. What kind of incentive is that?
3) While the outside weather only differs by a few degrees, the inside temperature of my home at Wheaton and my home in CT differ by a good... oh I'd say.... 70 degrees. A bit exagerrated? Yes. A lot exagerrated? No. My dorm room is directly above the boiler room. It's a constant 80something degrees in here. Tanktops and shorts are the norm, as well as four fans which haven't been shut off since the day of arrival. In CT my mom prefers not only to not turn on the heat, but also open all the windows to let in the cool 20 degree air. It requires layering to survive. You think I'm kidding....
4) homework in Wheaton, cable in CT
Well... this was a short list of the many comparisons I could make. I guess it comes down to whether I prefer quarters or dollars, laundry or laundry, heat or cold, and homework or cable. Hmm... somehow CT seems to have the benefit when I look at it like that. So I'll say I prefer heat and Wheaton's laundry to even it out. There's no place like home....
I just came back from Turkey Day break... a good 6 days off (thatwasonlysuppossedtobe5BUT... Iskippedaclassandleftadayearly) **stage note** read part in parentheses very quickly, as if one word, only pausing after the drawn out "BUT". I guess it would have been better if this came before the line I'm talking about. **fine**. Yup, one day short of a week in the town that I called home for fifteen years down in good old CT (note: that's C.T., pronounced "see tea", not "connecticut".... just because that's how I said it in my mind while I was typing and it's more amusing than just saying connecticut). Okay, I'll stop with the authors side-note-scribbles now, I promise. This time I really enjoyed being back home and wanted to stay longer.... versus October break where I was happy to come back to Wheaton. I wonder which one will win in the longrun as the "better" place to be. I could draw a comparison for you.... a rather, nontraditional one that is.....
Why nontraditional? I've got friends in CT, friends at Wheaton. A bed in CT, a bed at Wheaton. Poptarts for dinner in CT, poptarts for dinner at Wheaton. The traditional stuff is there wherever I am. It's the nontraditional stuff that's more fun to analyze rather than just saying Brian and Missy are in CT but freedom and dance are at Wheaton. Much more fun. So here's the real list....
1)At Wheaton I'm after quarters. I scrounge around like every other Wheatie.... waiting for my sixth sense to kick in whenever I'm within 20 feet of a loose quarter. It's like a radar system that every college kid who has to pay for laundry and vending machine munchies is equipped with. Much too lazy to walk to the bank and ask for a roll of quarters, we bargain to give friends a dollar bill for merely one of their precious quarters. We're careful to check they're not handing us any Canadian coins which the machines dutifully spit back at us. (How do the machines know the difference anyway?) Cheap kids we thought were our friends who try to jip us with their "counterfeit" money. Face it... at college, quarters are gold. You're lost without them. Or at least you're a hungry kid who has smelly clothes. It gets just about as crazy on campus when the change machine is broken as it did the day that Kerry lost to Bush. Now in CT do you think I would ever hand someone a dollar bill and only ask for a quarter back? Wouldn't happen. I live in Orange remember, where you need at least $600 to spend when you go to the mall or else you'd become the "poor kid" who only left with three bags of Abercrombie clothes instead of four. At college quarters are gold. In Orange, gold isn't even gold..... unless it's diamonds. ..... I confused myself.... nevermind.
2) At Wheaton my only "chore" is to do laundry. At home, pretty much my only chore is laundry too. The same chore can be so different depending on the location. I already mentioned the quarter situation. Conversely to what you may be thinking, the fact that I have to pay for laundry at Wheaton makes the task of getting it done at school easier. You see, if I'm doing laundry at school, then that means I've raked up enough quarters to actually get it done.... which is an accomplishment in itself. At this point, I'm so happy that I've managed to find $2.25 in quarters, that doing the laundry itself is a sort of perverted reward. Whereas at home the only reward is that I stop getting yelled at about it. Plus, at school I have to do it for myself so I don't start rewearing dirty clothes and become known as the smelly kid on campus. At home I have enough random clothes that I could probably get away with not doing my laundry for a good few months before running out of clean ones became an issue. The only reason I "have to" do it at home is because my mom tells me so. What kind of incentive is that?
3) While the outside weather only differs by a few degrees, the inside temperature of my home at Wheaton and my home in CT differ by a good... oh I'd say.... 70 degrees. A bit exagerrated? Yes. A lot exagerrated? No. My dorm room is directly above the boiler room. It's a constant 80something degrees in here. Tanktops and shorts are the norm, as well as four fans which haven't been shut off since the day of arrival. In CT my mom prefers not only to not turn on the heat, but also open all the windows to let in the cool 20 degree air. It requires layering to survive. You think I'm kidding....
4) homework in Wheaton, cable in CT
Well... this was a short list of the many comparisons I could make. I guess it comes down to whether I prefer quarters or dollars, laundry or laundry, heat or cold, and homework or cable. Hmm... somehow CT seems to have the benefit when I look at it like that. So I'll say I prefer heat and Wheaton's laundry to even it out. There's no place like home....
Monday, November 15, 2004
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
This past weekend I went to NYC to visit my good friend Miss Amy Gonsalves (and her roommate, who is also my good friend but not good enough to mention outside of the parentheses, Miss Meghan MacAlpine). Please note, (and take this very seriously), I'm just kidding about Meghan, I love her dearly! Anyways, to begin my story I'm going to tell a side story so be prepared for some non-NYC related discussion. Well... it's related in a sense but it gets further and further away from the topic of NYC as it progresses. I'll just tell you one more thing and then I'll begin my story. I want to live in New York City. Now I will begin my story.
In order to go to an area which you are not in already you naturally need some way of getting there. This was my problem. The only option available to me was a rather time consuming one. I had to take a shuttle from school to the T station which brought me to South Station in Boston which had a five hour bus that went to Chinatown in NY. But, since no other options existed, it's the one I went with. I think I made the right choice. I was a little nervous because the first time I went on the T I got terribly lost. This time I not only had to know what I was doing on the T, but I had to navigate myself from the T track where I was let off to South Station (harder than it sounds) to the bus terminal in another building, to the right bus. I eventually ended up in NYC so I can say that I'm proud of myself. I only wish I could say that I did it all on my own. Let me take you back to the beginning of my journey...
On the shuttle from Wheaton I noticed some guy talking on the phone in a language I didn't recognize. I began trying to guess what language he was speaking in, (Russian?, Creole?, Algerian?) when my thoughts were interrupted by someone with a British accent asking me if I was a senior. I turned around to find out that the British accent guy is the foreign language phone guy! My initial thought, ignorant as it was, was don't British people speak english?!?! Anyways, I tell him no, that in fact I'm a freshman and he replied "wow! you don't look like it". I still don't know what to think about that. I look 18. So... I find out he's Greek but was born in London and lived there just long enough to develop an accent. Answers my question. I find that he too is going to South Station and without him I guarantee I would have gotten lost. We get to talking on the shuttle....
Then we're talking about differences between Greece and America while waiting for the train.... then we're talking about politics and our families on the train.... he offers to pay for my train ticket, I say "no, no".... you know, the usual friendly get-to-know-you conversation. I don't know if you know this or not, but I'm not one who's big on small talk. Haha... big on small talk. Pun intended.... well, if that's a pun that is.... I'm really not sure. Anyways, I'm also not the type of person who easily becomes friends with a guy. I always find it awkward trying to talk to them as a friend because I'm always wondering if they're thinking anything sexual. Too much info. So, where I'm going with all this, and I swear I'm going somewhere, is that I was actually enjoying talking to this guy. Which got me thinking.... three years ago I would have killed to be in this situation.... trapped on a train for 45 minutes with a nice looking guy who has an accent, and is very smart and easy to talk to. So I was amazed that I wasn't attracted to this Greek God in that sort of way. All I could think about was my Brian.... and I loved how that made me feel! I'm beginning to miss him more and more and I constantly feel like I'm falling in love all over again. I've been all bubbly and happy like an idiot lately, just from thinking about him. That gorgeous greek guy made me realize even more how much I love being with Brian. Go figure!
That's the end of my sort of related side story. Now begins the fun of NYC. Once I arrived in good old Chinatown I realized something. 1) That I never want to sit on a bus again. 2) That I never want to be in that part of Chinatown again. It was scary. I got nasty glances from three Ghetto Chinese men who I later found out also "ran into" Amy and Kim. Then, there was some homeless guy who asked me if I knew of a safe place he could stay. After the fourth time I said no he began to instead ask where I was staying. I managed to play it safe while being polite.... I told him I was going to be uptown. "But where?" he'd ask. This process continued for quite awhile and my answers changed from uptown to upper West Side (even though I would be on the east side), to with a friend, to with a friend at my dad's apartment, to with a friend at my dad- who is a cop-'s apartment. He dropped it at about that time and I was relieved to finally find Amy a few minutes later.
I really liked Amy's dorm, but other than hitting my head on Meghan's desk, the rest of the night was pretty much uneventful, considering I arrived around midnight. After waking up to a tie-dyed pillow being thrown at my head the next morning, we decided to make french toast. What came next? We ate breakfast. I shouted that I was freezing about 85 times and then we went to Times Square to try and get tickets to a show that night. We wasted time and a good $5 or so in Starbucks where we each got drinks that we decided... well, I decided.... matched our personalities. Me- White Chocolate Mocha, Amy- some Pumpkin Pie spiced latte thing which was actually pretty good and Kim- apple cider plain with none of the flavor junk they normally add in. We then proceeded to the theater where Chicago is playing. We asked the guy if there were standing room tickets left. He said simply "yes". So what did we say...."YES!" He then added "Okay, at $100 each that will be $300". A moment of panic.... then laughter as we realize he must be kidding. Or was he?..... he was. $20 later we had our tickets for that night's performance. Woohoo!
We then hopped on a subway to St. Mark's place, stopping to see a Michael Jackson impersonater along the way. That wasn't the only time we got sidetracked, however. Once we got off the subway it took us a good 15 minutes to actually find St. Mark's place. We were all over Noho, Greenwich Village, and saw most of NYU before we finally found St. Mark's Place thanks to an NYU map attatched to the side of a building. Once we were headed in the right direction I got overly excited by a sidewalk "alternate route because of construction" thing which led us to where we wanted to be. We walked around there alot and Amy went to get her nose pierced. Super cute! I can't remember if it happened now or not, but for the sake of my story it will.... when getting on the subway to go back to her dorm, we somehow ended up in either the Bronx or Brooklyn... we were confused about which one and then we figured it out but now I forget. Wait........ it was Queens. I remember now.
That night we went to Planet Hollywood and had the best set of burger, fries, and a smoothie I've had in a long time. Then we went on to Chicago! Wayne Brady was suppossed to be in it, but he had an understudy that night... much to the disappointment of Amy (and me, but I don't count as much). Amy started to feel quite a bit better though when she saw one of the male performers who had an 8 pack, (or 10... if that's possible) and the most gorgeously muscular body I've ever seen in person. We had fun in our standing room seats because we were able to dance around and move to the music without annoying anyone but the other people who only paid $20 for their ticket. I was amazed by the actor playing Mary Sunshine who had the most gorgeous soprano voice I've ever heard and yet was a guy. Roxie was hysterical and Velma was the best performer. It was a lot of fun!!!! Well worth the twenty bucks.... with or without Wayne Brady.
The next day Amy, Meghan, Chris and I made cookie-dough pancakes/half-baked pancakes/cookiecakes/pancookiedoughcakes/pancakes with bits of M&M cookie dough dropped in. They were surprisingly pretty good! Amy and I spent much of the morning trying to remember old Spice Girl songs... I don't remember how it came up exactly but now I have "I moonwalk the foxtrot... and polka the salsa" stuck in my head. Overall, it was a fun weekend! And now that I'm back at Wheaton I realize how much I want to be going to school in a city. At the same time, if I were there I'd want a campus. There's no solution!
In order to go to an area which you are not in already you naturally need some way of getting there. This was my problem. The only option available to me was a rather time consuming one. I had to take a shuttle from school to the T station which brought me to South Station in Boston which had a five hour bus that went to Chinatown in NY. But, since no other options existed, it's the one I went with. I think I made the right choice. I was a little nervous because the first time I went on the T I got terribly lost. This time I not only had to know what I was doing on the T, but I had to navigate myself from the T track where I was let off to South Station (harder than it sounds) to the bus terminal in another building, to the right bus. I eventually ended up in NYC so I can say that I'm proud of myself. I only wish I could say that I did it all on my own. Let me take you back to the beginning of my journey...
On the shuttle from Wheaton I noticed some guy talking on the phone in a language I didn't recognize. I began trying to guess what language he was speaking in, (Russian?, Creole?, Algerian?) when my thoughts were interrupted by someone with a British accent asking me if I was a senior. I turned around to find out that the British accent guy is the foreign language phone guy! My initial thought, ignorant as it was, was don't British people speak english?!?! Anyways, I tell him no, that in fact I'm a freshman and he replied "wow! you don't look like it". I still don't know what to think about that. I look 18. So... I find out he's Greek but was born in London and lived there just long enough to develop an accent. Answers my question. I find that he too is going to South Station and without him I guarantee I would have gotten lost. We get to talking on the shuttle....
Then we're talking about differences between Greece and America while waiting for the train.... then we're talking about politics and our families on the train.... he offers to pay for my train ticket, I say "no, no".... you know, the usual friendly get-to-know-you conversation. I don't know if you know this or not, but I'm not one who's big on small talk. Haha... big on small talk. Pun intended.... well, if that's a pun that is.... I'm really not sure. Anyways, I'm also not the type of person who easily becomes friends with a guy. I always find it awkward trying to talk to them as a friend because I'm always wondering if they're thinking anything sexual. Too much info. So, where I'm going with all this, and I swear I'm going somewhere, is that I was actually enjoying talking to this guy. Which got me thinking.... three years ago I would have killed to be in this situation.... trapped on a train for 45 minutes with a nice looking guy who has an accent, and is very smart and easy to talk to. So I was amazed that I wasn't attracted to this Greek God in that sort of way. All I could think about was my Brian.... and I loved how that made me feel! I'm beginning to miss him more and more and I constantly feel like I'm falling in love all over again. I've been all bubbly and happy like an idiot lately, just from thinking about him. That gorgeous greek guy made me realize even more how much I love being with Brian. Go figure!
That's the end of my sort of related side story. Now begins the fun of NYC. Once I arrived in good old Chinatown I realized something. 1) That I never want to sit on a bus again. 2) That I never want to be in that part of Chinatown again. It was scary. I got nasty glances from three Ghetto Chinese men who I later found out also "ran into" Amy and Kim. Then, there was some homeless guy who asked me if I knew of a safe place he could stay. After the fourth time I said no he began to instead ask where I was staying. I managed to play it safe while being polite.... I told him I was going to be uptown. "But where?" he'd ask. This process continued for quite awhile and my answers changed from uptown to upper West Side (even though I would be on the east side), to with a friend, to with a friend at my dad's apartment, to with a friend at my dad- who is a cop-'s apartment. He dropped it at about that time and I was relieved to finally find Amy a few minutes later.
I really liked Amy's dorm, but other than hitting my head on Meghan's desk, the rest of the night was pretty much uneventful, considering I arrived around midnight. After waking up to a tie-dyed pillow being thrown at my head the next morning, we decided to make french toast. What came next? We ate breakfast. I shouted that I was freezing about 85 times and then we went to Times Square to try and get tickets to a show that night. We wasted time and a good $5 or so in Starbucks where we each got drinks that we decided... well, I decided.... matched our personalities. Me- White Chocolate Mocha, Amy- some Pumpkin Pie spiced latte thing which was actually pretty good and Kim- apple cider plain with none of the flavor junk they normally add in. We then proceeded to the theater where Chicago is playing. We asked the guy if there were standing room tickets left. He said simply "yes". So what did we say...."YES!" He then added "Okay, at $100 each that will be $300". A moment of panic.... then laughter as we realize he must be kidding. Or was he?..... he was. $20 later we had our tickets for that night's performance. Woohoo!
We then hopped on a subway to St. Mark's place, stopping to see a Michael Jackson impersonater along the way. That wasn't the only time we got sidetracked, however. Once we got off the subway it took us a good 15 minutes to actually find St. Mark's place. We were all over Noho, Greenwich Village, and saw most of NYU before we finally found St. Mark's Place thanks to an NYU map attatched to the side of a building. Once we were headed in the right direction I got overly excited by a sidewalk "alternate route because of construction" thing which led us to where we wanted to be. We walked around there alot and Amy went to get her nose pierced. Super cute! I can't remember if it happened now or not, but for the sake of my story it will.... when getting on the subway to go back to her dorm, we somehow ended up in either the Bronx or Brooklyn... we were confused about which one and then we figured it out but now I forget. Wait........ it was Queens. I remember now.
That night we went to Planet Hollywood and had the best set of burger, fries, and a smoothie I've had in a long time. Then we went on to Chicago! Wayne Brady was suppossed to be in it, but he had an understudy that night... much to the disappointment of Amy (and me, but I don't count as much). Amy started to feel quite a bit better though when she saw one of the male performers who had an 8 pack, (or 10... if that's possible) and the most gorgeously muscular body I've ever seen in person. We had fun in our standing room seats because we were able to dance around and move to the music without annoying anyone but the other people who only paid $20 for their ticket. I was amazed by the actor playing Mary Sunshine who had the most gorgeous soprano voice I've ever heard and yet was a guy. Roxie was hysterical and Velma was the best performer. It was a lot of fun!!!! Well worth the twenty bucks.... with or without Wayne Brady.
The next day Amy, Meghan, Chris and I made cookie-dough pancakes/half-baked pancakes/cookiecakes/pancookiedoughcakes/pancakes with bits of M&M cookie dough dropped in. They were surprisingly pretty good! Amy and I spent much of the morning trying to remember old Spice Girl songs... I don't remember how it came up exactly but now I have "I moonwalk the foxtrot... and polka the salsa" stuck in my head. Overall, it was a fun weekend! And now that I'm back at Wheaton I realize how much I want to be going to school in a city. At the same time, if I were there I'd want a campus. There's no solution!
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Okay, I'm going to start off by saying that when I finished my last entry with "I'll be back in a month"... I didn't intend it to be literal. But regardless of my intentions, an entire 36 days has passed since I last sat at my laptop and blogged. That's an entire 5.583 with a repeating decimal days longer than an average month. Then again, since 2004 is a leap year, it's only 5.5 days longer than an average month. Can you not tell why I am going to be a math major? You've got a nerdish quality too... don't deny it. Anyways... my sincere apologies to people who obsessively read my blogs as if it were the daily horoscopes found in the newspaper, or the sports section, or political campaign updates, or whatever other article you personally find pleasure in reading daily. I bet you're still thinking about your nerdish quality aren't you? I'll give you a hint... If you're checking whether or not my calculations were correct, you're a math nerd too.
I've realized a few things during my month off, a few... thoughts of wisdom if you'd like. First, my blogs have been lessening in humor quality. I've pondered over possible explanations before realizing well... that I had to ponder some more. To tell you the truth, I think I've been so busy procrastinating that it's too much for me to try and be funny. Even right now, as we speak... well, as I type.... I should be studying for a french test tomorrow. This is a classic example of my case. The majority of my time each day is spent deciding whether I should be working or doing activities which always seem to be more important... such as aimlessly surfing the web or walking across campus to check my mailbox for the 3rd time that day. I've come to a decision and I'm going to make a promise to you today. I'm going to step it up. Bring back some of that good old Trisha blog humor that recently seems to be found only in past entries. It's just like classic TV re-runs or old-school pop music. Why can't what's out today be as good as what was offered in the golden past? Why is nostalgia more comforting than the present? I'm going to change the rules right here, right now. Starting today, new blogs will be as funny as the old... instant classics every time!
Okay, I was getting out of hand with that theme so I decided to stop there. It just needed to end. Enough said. Instead, I'm going to tell you a story about how cool I am. I love these stories! Nothing's better than talking about the awesome dorkiness of me! ...Well, I'll admit that that's a lie what I said right there, I just got carried away and I'm too lazy to go back and erase it. Okay, this particular story started on a dark and stormy night. No... It's not the story of the Lee Lund ghost again, but bravo to you if you picked up on that... I've just realized that your nerdish quality is reading my blogs too much. Congratulations! ;) Back to my story... did I even start it yet? The setting: I'm in my dorm room, all alone (don't forget I said it was a dark and stormy night) and I'm staring, wide-eyed at what was in my hands. Unable to move, I could feel my heartrate increasing as I read the latest copy of the Wheaton Wire, completely enthralled in this week's issue. In this particular week's paper, they decided to share Wheaton College's ghost stories. Dun dun dunnnnnn!!!! I know what you're thinking.... and yes, it was probably printed at this time because Halloween is in a mere 3 days. You're smart enough to be a Wheatie, I can tell! Every college has their ghost stories, but not every college has true ghost stories! And Wheaton's are true. You know how I know? Because they wouldn't print it and let the whole school read it if it weren't true, silly! Wow... my own fake stupidity is even starting to get on my nerves. Anyways, one of the stories was about the ghost of Mary Armstrong who haunts the library. She worked in Wheaton's library from 1924-1929. Why did she leave in 1929 after only five years of work you ask? The answer isn't pretty. She committed suicide that year. Her spirit is said to be seen passing through the library hallways. Lights turn on and off and empty elevators descend to the stacks after hours. A favorite hobby of alums is to make a field trip out of it and spend the night in the library looking for her ghost. Of everyone who has stayed the night in the old library, the only common sign of "Aunt Mary's" spirit that they all have found is that the book entitled "Between Life and Death" had seemingly been pushed off the stacks as each party walked by.
Got it? So that's where the ghost story ends, now here comes the coolness of me part! This story made me curious. So naturally I headed over to the library. I contemplated sitting by the elevator near the stacks until closing time, 2:00 a.m., but decided that that would be way beyond even my normal level of procrastination. Instead, I looked up where "Between Life and Death" was located in the library. I went down to find it in the stacks, which are always empty and I'll admit pretty creepy. It's one of those places you just randomly start running out of because you start to freak yourself out. You know the sort, I'm sure. Anyways, so I find this book. I sat there for awhile and flipped through the pages. I don't know what I expected to happen, but I still sat there flipping those pages. I put the book back on the shelf and looked over both my shoulders before turning to leave. I'll admit, those little hairs on the back on my neck were raised. Then, I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly turned back around.... No, the book didn't fall off the shelf- calm down! But I thought to myself, imagine how creeped out I would have been if when I went down to find the book in the stacks, I found it lying on the floor. I'm not into the whole ghost thing (can't you tell), but that would have seriously freaked me out a bit. So, why not let someone else experience it? I went back to the shelf, took the book, and left it face up on the floor. Aren't I so clever? I bet I creeped someone out to the extreme! Hahaha, I'm the biggest dork on the Wheaton campus! Who would do that besides me? Why would anyone do that? I sure don't know the answer. But hey, I'm just keeping the ghost story alive! There were other ghost stories in the Wire that were just as intriguing, but I wasn't prepared to go steal the key to the basement of Emerson which has been locked for 60 years just to find out what had killed the old janitor and his dog. And you're crazy if you thought I'd spend the night in the closet where Eve Everett was strangled to death by her boyfriend. The scratch marks are still on the walls! Forget about going to the graveyard that's across from campus on Halloween night. I'm just going to head over to the coffee shop where the old president choked on a croissant 30 years back and let his spirit scare me for the night!
So I made that last one up, whatcha gonna do? It's better than if I had said he was killed by the giant snapping turtle that lives in the pond, isn't it? Have a great Halloween. Stay clear of librarians who may seem a little on the depressed side, asking them when a book is due may put them over the edge. Don't follow around any janitor that has a dog, or boyfriends who have a habit of strangling people. And why not? Avoid presidents with croissants as well. Just avoid croissants. Stick to candy.
I've realized a few things during my month off, a few... thoughts of wisdom if you'd like. First, my blogs have been lessening in humor quality. I've pondered over possible explanations before realizing well... that I had to ponder some more. To tell you the truth, I think I've been so busy procrastinating that it's too much for me to try and be funny. Even right now, as we speak... well, as I type.... I should be studying for a french test tomorrow. This is a classic example of my case. The majority of my time each day is spent deciding whether I should be working or doing activities which always seem to be more important... such as aimlessly surfing the web or walking across campus to check my mailbox for the 3rd time that day. I've come to a decision and I'm going to make a promise to you today. I'm going to step it up. Bring back some of that good old Trisha blog humor that recently seems to be found only in past entries. It's just like classic TV re-runs or old-school pop music. Why can't what's out today be as good as what was offered in the golden past? Why is nostalgia more comforting than the present? I'm going to change the rules right here, right now. Starting today, new blogs will be as funny as the old... instant classics every time!
Okay, I was getting out of hand with that theme so I decided to stop there. It just needed to end. Enough said. Instead, I'm going to tell you a story about how cool I am. I love these stories! Nothing's better than talking about the awesome dorkiness of me! ...Well, I'll admit that that's a lie what I said right there, I just got carried away and I'm too lazy to go back and erase it. Okay, this particular story started on a dark and stormy night. No... It's not the story of the Lee Lund ghost again, but bravo to you if you picked up on that... I've just realized that your nerdish quality is reading my blogs too much. Congratulations! ;) Back to my story... did I even start it yet? The setting: I'm in my dorm room, all alone (don't forget I said it was a dark and stormy night) and I'm staring, wide-eyed at what was in my hands. Unable to move, I could feel my heartrate increasing as I read the latest copy of the Wheaton Wire, completely enthralled in this week's issue. In this particular week's paper, they decided to share Wheaton College's ghost stories. Dun dun dunnnnnn!!!! I know what you're thinking.... and yes, it was probably printed at this time because Halloween is in a mere 3 days. You're smart enough to be a Wheatie, I can tell! Every college has their ghost stories, but not every college has true ghost stories! And Wheaton's are true. You know how I know? Because they wouldn't print it and let the whole school read it if it weren't true, silly! Wow... my own fake stupidity is even starting to get on my nerves. Anyways, one of the stories was about the ghost of Mary Armstrong who haunts the library. She worked in Wheaton's library from 1924-1929. Why did she leave in 1929 after only five years of work you ask? The answer isn't pretty. She committed suicide that year. Her spirit is said to be seen passing through the library hallways. Lights turn on and off and empty elevators descend to the stacks after hours. A favorite hobby of alums is to make a field trip out of it and spend the night in the library looking for her ghost. Of everyone who has stayed the night in the old library, the only common sign of "Aunt Mary's" spirit that they all have found is that the book entitled "Between Life and Death" had seemingly been pushed off the stacks as each party walked by.
Got it? So that's where the ghost story ends, now here comes the coolness of me part! This story made me curious. So naturally I headed over to the library. I contemplated sitting by the elevator near the stacks until closing time, 2:00 a.m., but decided that that would be way beyond even my normal level of procrastination. Instead, I looked up where "Between Life and Death" was located in the library. I went down to find it in the stacks, which are always empty and I'll admit pretty creepy. It's one of those places you just randomly start running out of because you start to freak yourself out. You know the sort, I'm sure. Anyways, so I find this book. I sat there for awhile and flipped through the pages. I don't know what I expected to happen, but I still sat there flipping those pages. I put the book back on the shelf and looked over both my shoulders before turning to leave. I'll admit, those little hairs on the back on my neck were raised. Then, I stopped dead in my tracks and slowly turned back around.... No, the book didn't fall off the shelf- calm down! But I thought to myself, imagine how creeped out I would have been if when I went down to find the book in the stacks, I found it lying on the floor. I'm not into the whole ghost thing (can't you tell), but that would have seriously freaked me out a bit. So, why not let someone else experience it? I went back to the shelf, took the book, and left it face up on the floor. Aren't I so clever? I bet I creeped someone out to the extreme! Hahaha, I'm the biggest dork on the Wheaton campus! Who would do that besides me? Why would anyone do that? I sure don't know the answer. But hey, I'm just keeping the ghost story alive! There were other ghost stories in the Wire that were just as intriguing, but I wasn't prepared to go steal the key to the basement of Emerson which has been locked for 60 years just to find out what had killed the old janitor and his dog. And you're crazy if you thought I'd spend the night in the closet where Eve Everett was strangled to death by her boyfriend. The scratch marks are still on the walls! Forget about going to the graveyard that's across from campus on Halloween night. I'm just going to head over to the coffee shop where the old president choked on a croissant 30 years back and let his spirit scare me for the night!
So I made that last one up, whatcha gonna do? It's better than if I had said he was killed by the giant snapping turtle that lives in the pond, isn't it? Have a great Halloween. Stay clear of librarians who may seem a little on the depressed side, asking them when a book is due may put them over the edge. Don't follow around any janitor that has a dog, or boyfriends who have a habit of strangling people. And why not? Avoid presidents with croissants as well. Just avoid croissants. Stick to candy.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Okay, so some people have been yelling at me because I haven't blogged in awhile. Sorry that I actually have a life. Really, there's not all that much to talk about though. All's going good here in the Wheaton bubble. The dance company people are cool... we go to dinner as a company every night after rehearsal. We're already done with two entire dance pieces, one of which is 7 whole minutes long. Our first performance is already coming up on October 23rd... mark those calanders!!! I had to get 2 new types of dance shoes and I ordered them through discountdance. Well, 6 days and $100 later they came in and neither of them were at all what I expected. So... I'm forcing Kim to bring me to a dance supplies store this weekend. She's coming up to visit... it's not like I'm making her drive me all the way from CT, that would be crazinity.
Speaking of crazinity, my life has been a little hectic up here and I don't even know why. I'm constantly on the go. That's such a weird expression. Anyways... between dance, work, classes and such I have very little "free time". It's strange too because my classes are so much easier and I have so much less work than last year. It creeps me out. Why is college easier than high school? I tend to think it's because 3/4 of my classes are basically repeats of what I've already taken in h.s. : calculus (by the way I love my new prof), writing about poetry (basically a review of freedman's mod. poetry), and french (which is approximately the level of my freshman year class in h.s). Maybe that's why I'm having an easy semester, I don't know... But this is like my typical Tuesday, which isn't so different from the rest of my other days really. I get up at 8:00, get ready and go get breakfast. I have work in the admissions office from 9-11 and then class from 11-12:30. Half hour break which I spend in my dorm, simply breathing. Class from 1-2. Lunch immediately after class and then back to the dorm to do a little bit of hw after obsessively checking my wheaton email to see if I have a package that day. Dance from 4-6ish and then dinner right afterwards with all of the dance girls. Shower. Run off to some meeting or group assignment thing or something. At this point, it's 9:30 and I'm exhausted and I do a little bit of work and then go hang out with the people down the hall for a bit. It's a little too crazy of a daily schedule for me.
In other, still Wheaton related, news... two of my roommates are already moving out this weekend. Caitrin and Lisa are heading to another dorm. It's only a matter of time before I get kicked out of the lounge. I wrote the most heartfelt email of my life to the student life lady, begging to be allowed to stay somewhere in Young. Oh man, oh man, I hope it works! This next thing is completely random but I have to share anyways. Wheaton is infested with animals. I have never seen more squirrels, rabbits, bats (yes, I said bats), cats or dogs anywhere before! You can't walk from lower campus to upper without running into, that's literally running into, like 30 squirrels and several rabbits. Wheaton college is being taken over by them, I swear. My own dorm room already has been invaded by a stray dog that decided to walk into our room and almost a skunk too... that's a funny story that I don't feel like sharing. Notice how I don't share the funny stuff?
Kimberly is getting two tickets to see Wicked for her birthday and I am her guest of honor. I am so beyond excited! I'm even going to get to see Idina Menzel in it, because they extended her contract an extra week, so now it includes the date we're going to see the show. For those of you non-wicked fanatics, Idina Menzel is the lead in the show and beyond amazing and if I didn't get to see her in it before she left, my life would not have been complete.
The only reason I had a chance to write this is because my classes and work was cancelled today, for inexplainable reasons that I don't really care about. But, I have to get ready for dance now, so I'll be back in like a month to write. If you're lucky!!! ;)
Speaking of crazinity, my life has been a little hectic up here and I don't even know why. I'm constantly on the go. That's such a weird expression. Anyways... between dance, work, classes and such I have very little "free time". It's strange too because my classes are so much easier and I have so much less work than last year. It creeps me out. Why is college easier than high school? I tend to think it's because 3/4 of my classes are basically repeats of what I've already taken in h.s. : calculus (by the way I love my new prof), writing about poetry (basically a review of freedman's mod. poetry), and french (which is approximately the level of my freshman year class in h.s). Maybe that's why I'm having an easy semester, I don't know... But this is like my typical Tuesday, which isn't so different from the rest of my other days really. I get up at 8:00, get ready and go get breakfast. I have work in the admissions office from 9-11 and then class from 11-12:30. Half hour break which I spend in my dorm, simply breathing. Class from 1-2. Lunch immediately after class and then back to the dorm to do a little bit of hw after obsessively checking my wheaton email to see if I have a package that day. Dance from 4-6ish and then dinner right afterwards with all of the dance girls. Shower. Run off to some meeting or group assignment thing or something. At this point, it's 9:30 and I'm exhausted and I do a little bit of work and then go hang out with the people down the hall for a bit. It's a little too crazy of a daily schedule for me.
In other, still Wheaton related, news... two of my roommates are already moving out this weekend. Caitrin and Lisa are heading to another dorm. It's only a matter of time before I get kicked out of the lounge. I wrote the most heartfelt email of my life to the student life lady, begging to be allowed to stay somewhere in Young. Oh man, oh man, I hope it works! This next thing is completely random but I have to share anyways. Wheaton is infested with animals. I have never seen more squirrels, rabbits, bats (yes, I said bats), cats or dogs anywhere before! You can't walk from lower campus to upper without running into, that's literally running into, like 30 squirrels and several rabbits. Wheaton college is being taken over by them, I swear. My own dorm room already has been invaded by a stray dog that decided to walk into our room and almost a skunk too... that's a funny story that I don't feel like sharing. Notice how I don't share the funny stuff?
Kimberly is getting two tickets to see Wicked for her birthday and I am her guest of honor. I am so beyond excited! I'm even going to get to see Idina Menzel in it, because they extended her contract an extra week, so now it includes the date we're going to see the show. For those of you non-wicked fanatics, Idina Menzel is the lead in the show and beyond amazing and if I didn't get to see her in it before she left, my life would not have been complete.
The only reason I had a chance to write this is because my classes and work was cancelled today, for inexplainable reasons that I don't really care about. But, I have to get ready for dance now, so I'll be back in like a month to write. If you're lucky!!! ;)
Friday, September 10, 2004
Nothing funny about this blog... just sharing a new story on my adventures at Wheaton. The theme of this lil blog is about my Wheaton Dance Company audition. First, I'll give you the pre-audition info... maybe you'll be as creeped out as I was. Well... creeped out isn't the right phrase, but I don't want to spend time actually figuring out what it is I'm trying to say, so for lack of better phrases that are currently circulating in my head... creeped out works just fine.
So... I went to talk to the director of the dance company a few days before the audition. A woman by the name of Cheryl Mrozowski. I walked into her office as she was cleaning it, but she gladly invited me in. She asked the usual questions... how long I've been dancing, what styles I do etc. I even prepared for the "what specific techniques have you learned?" question by going online (specifically google with 'dance techniques choreographer' typed into the search engine) and refreshing my memory just minutes before I left for her office. It's a good thing too because the question was asked and I could easily roll Cecchetti, Humphrey-Weidman, Horton etc. off my tongue as if I actually knew those were the techniques I've studied in the past. Anyways, then she told me that last year there were only like 6 girls in the company and she didn't take anyone new in last year because everyone who auditioned wasn't up to par with what level she wanted the company to be at. (hopefully not visible) Nervousness took over me. She made it sound as if I had no chance of getting in. Then she asked if I had sent in a dance video with my application. When I said no she told me "well, that's a good thing because the ones I received weren't very good at all" while smiling as if to say I still had a slight chance. Finally she asked the dreaded question.... Do I consider myself an advanced dancer? You see, there is really no way to correctly answer that question. You may be advanced where you come from, but then take a class at Broadway Dance Center and make a fool of yourself. There are always people better than you and people worse than you. And if you say yes then they'll think you're overly confident and cocky, but if you say no then they'll think you're awful. My response? "Well... I would say I'm a good dancer, yes". Was that a safe response? I still am not sure...
Basically, I walked out of her office feeling like this was going to be incredibly competitive and I'd be at this audition with those freakish people who can do 6 turns and switch leaps as easily as they can rattle off the alphabet. I thought I had no chance. Skipping ahead a few days, my nervousness all the while increasing, and the audition day arrives. The biggest thing on my mind at this point is whether or not I'll have to wear shoes at the audition. I know it sounds like a crazy thought, considering most people are nervous about other aspects... but I'm used to the barefoot ways of Lee Lund. I don't like dancing in shoes. Anyways, so I arrive in the dance studio and there are like 30 girls there or something like that. I pick out my number and sit down to stretch while doing my favorite thing at an audition, observing others. It was hard to tell at this point if the other girls would be good dancers or not. It's hard to tell just by appearance, although some looked more like dancers than others, and believe it or not, very few people were stretching, so I couldn't tell if they were overly flexible or anything. So, we start the warmup, barefoot might I add, and it was pretty straight forward. Then, after putting on shoes (grrrr) we do a really simple, basic across the floor thing consisting of kicks, pas de bourrees, and turns. I was relieved after this exercise. A lot of the people auditioning had no technique whatsoever. I felt like I actually had a chance. Next, we did a significantly more difficult, upbeat and stylistic across the floor thing and finally a lyrical type of jazz combination. The girls who were in the company last year were all really good dancers, very strong. But most of the people auditioning weren't up to their level. Three hours later, the audition was over and I felt really good. Not only did I feel like I actually had a shot at getting in, but I thoroughly enjoyed the audition. It felt more like a normal dance class to me than an audition and it felt soooo good to dance again. The postings would go up that night about the first cut.
Cutting to the chase here, I made it past the first cut. The next step in the audition process was a ballet class. The class was taught in a different style from what I'm used to and the petit allegro had steps in it that I've literally never seen before. Luckily, the director was talking to the dance captain while only occasionally glancing up when I had to do the petit allegro. It was scary because I wasn't used to the particular style of ballet and we had to do alot of the class only 2 people at a time, meaning that if the other person didn't know what was going on then you had no one to help you out. But in general, the class wasn't as intense as Debi's ballet. I missed that intensity. I was actually hoping for some plea releves, but I didn't even get so much as a "hold that arabesque for another 8". Disappointing. I was still sore the next day however. I couldn't tell after the ballet class if I was going to get in or not. There were only 12 people at the ballet class, including the girls who were in the company last year, and everyone seemed to be on a similar level. Cutting to the second chase, I got in. Woohoo! I was so excited. There are only 8 girls in the company, and I think I'm the only new person, and then there are four understudies. We have rehearsals 5 days a week for 2 hours each day. I can't wait until it all begins. I am soooooo happy about it! I was going to start this blog by saying "Nothing funny about this blog... just sharing my excitement" but then I realized that it would be a spoiler. So I changed it to create a sense of anticipation. I hope you appreciate my careful editing. I can't think of a clever way to end this, and again, I don't feel like racking my brain, so this is how it's ending.
So... I went to talk to the director of the dance company a few days before the audition. A woman by the name of Cheryl Mrozowski. I walked into her office as she was cleaning it, but she gladly invited me in. She asked the usual questions... how long I've been dancing, what styles I do etc. I even prepared for the "what specific techniques have you learned?" question by going online (specifically google with 'dance techniques choreographer' typed into the search engine) and refreshing my memory just minutes before I left for her office. It's a good thing too because the question was asked and I could easily roll Cecchetti, Humphrey-Weidman, Horton etc. off my tongue as if I actually knew those were the techniques I've studied in the past. Anyways, then she told me that last year there were only like 6 girls in the company and she didn't take anyone new in last year because everyone who auditioned wasn't up to par with what level she wanted the company to be at. (hopefully not visible) Nervousness took over me. She made it sound as if I had no chance of getting in. Then she asked if I had sent in a dance video with my application. When I said no she told me "well, that's a good thing because the ones I received weren't very good at all" while smiling as if to say I still had a slight chance. Finally she asked the dreaded question.... Do I consider myself an advanced dancer? You see, there is really no way to correctly answer that question. You may be advanced where you come from, but then take a class at Broadway Dance Center and make a fool of yourself. There are always people better than you and people worse than you. And if you say yes then they'll think you're overly confident and cocky, but if you say no then they'll think you're awful. My response? "Well... I would say I'm a good dancer, yes". Was that a safe response? I still am not sure...
Basically, I walked out of her office feeling like this was going to be incredibly competitive and I'd be at this audition with those freakish people who can do 6 turns and switch leaps as easily as they can rattle off the alphabet. I thought I had no chance. Skipping ahead a few days, my nervousness all the while increasing, and the audition day arrives. The biggest thing on my mind at this point is whether or not I'll have to wear shoes at the audition. I know it sounds like a crazy thought, considering most people are nervous about other aspects... but I'm used to the barefoot ways of Lee Lund. I don't like dancing in shoes. Anyways, so I arrive in the dance studio and there are like 30 girls there or something like that. I pick out my number and sit down to stretch while doing my favorite thing at an audition, observing others. It was hard to tell at this point if the other girls would be good dancers or not. It's hard to tell just by appearance, although some looked more like dancers than others, and believe it or not, very few people were stretching, so I couldn't tell if they were overly flexible or anything. So, we start the warmup, barefoot might I add, and it was pretty straight forward. Then, after putting on shoes (grrrr) we do a really simple, basic across the floor thing consisting of kicks, pas de bourrees, and turns. I was relieved after this exercise. A lot of the people auditioning had no technique whatsoever. I felt like I actually had a chance. Next, we did a significantly more difficult, upbeat and stylistic across the floor thing and finally a lyrical type of jazz combination. The girls who were in the company last year were all really good dancers, very strong. But most of the people auditioning weren't up to their level. Three hours later, the audition was over and I felt really good. Not only did I feel like I actually had a shot at getting in, but I thoroughly enjoyed the audition. It felt more like a normal dance class to me than an audition and it felt soooo good to dance again. The postings would go up that night about the first cut.
Cutting to the chase here, I made it past the first cut. The next step in the audition process was a ballet class. The class was taught in a different style from what I'm used to and the petit allegro had steps in it that I've literally never seen before. Luckily, the director was talking to the dance captain while only occasionally glancing up when I had to do the petit allegro. It was scary because I wasn't used to the particular style of ballet and we had to do alot of the class only 2 people at a time, meaning that if the other person didn't know what was going on then you had no one to help you out. But in general, the class wasn't as intense as Debi's ballet. I missed that intensity. I was actually hoping for some plea releves, but I didn't even get so much as a "hold that arabesque for another 8". Disappointing. I was still sore the next day however. I couldn't tell after the ballet class if I was going to get in or not. There were only 12 people at the ballet class, including the girls who were in the company last year, and everyone seemed to be on a similar level. Cutting to the second chase, I got in. Woohoo! I was so excited. There are only 8 girls in the company, and I think I'm the only new person, and then there are four understudies. We have rehearsals 5 days a week for 2 hours each day. I can't wait until it all begins. I am soooooo happy about it! I was going to start this blog by saying "Nothing funny about this blog... just sharing my excitement" but then I realized that it would be a spoiler. So I changed it to create a sense of anticipation. I hope you appreciate my careful editing. I can't think of a clever way to end this, and again, I don't feel like racking my brain, so this is how it's ending.
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