There are few things in this world as exciting as small-town musical theater

For a full account from an outsider (that is, an outsider to Loudonville), read this.

I started off my weekend at home with a trip to the bank, where a dozen adorable little Girl Scouts bombarded me with their little boxes of cookies. How do you say no to little girls? That is why the Girl Scout program will always be financially stable. Little girls can sell people anything.

Then came the real fun. We saw Jimmy in Anything Goes Saturday night and Jesus Christ Super Star on Sunday. JCSS was Loudonville's local production; Anything Goes was the Wooster equivalent. It's always good to see my boys perform.

Nothing else too noteworthy happened; we got lots of sleep and didn't do any work. A typical weekend home. Christina got on my case about writing a book. Anyone have any thoughts on that?

I just don't know what to do with myself

At the beginning of the semester, around that time when you get a really good idea of what your classes are going to be like, I said jokingly to Christina that the only two goals I had for this semester were making it through pledging and completing all six seasons of Sex and the City on dvd.

Right now, I am seriously reconsidering whether or not it was a joke.

I'm also reconsidering whether I even want to do those things or if it would just be wiser to move home, get a job, and buy some cats.

But I hate cats. So I guess I have to stay here.

He SAID there were no tapes!

I am doing a project for English that involves creating instructions for a video camera (we all know how much I love to be filmed, right C05 crowd?) and the IT guy who loaned me the camera told me he'd e-mail me and let me know when I could pick up a tape because he didn't have any. I said okay and went out into the computer lab and was just getting a feel for how it worked. Not only does this camcorder take video but it can also do stills. So I was just pressing all the buttons and then I was looking at the place where you put the tape and when I opened it I found a tape. Great. On that tape, as I practiced the playback functions, was the IT guy's Germany vacation. Taped over by zoom-in/zoom-out shots of the back of a computer and stills of a pile of wires.

I feel really bad. Luckily, though, I think what was taped over was just the footage you take while you're driving in the car that isn't quite as cool when you get home and start watching it. I guess I'm just saving him the trouble of having to deal with it.

Yum!

discover what candy you are @ quiz me

Six Weeks (in Perspective)

I just finished my sixth week of class this semester--only nine left. But while I was thinking about it, I realized how much longer six weeks seemed in grade school. Or even high school.

We got grade cards every six weeks. I have a vague memory of how long of a wait it felt like between grade cards, so I am having a hard time grasping the fact that if I were in 10th grade again I'd be halfway through a trimester already. Half!

Am I getting old? I think I am. And I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up.

Unfair

It is not nice to sort the mail on only two days, one being Valentine's Day and the other being three days later, because maybe someone's Valentine didn't come until February 15. And then you've caused that person unnecessary stress.

Good Friends

I'm going through a tough Membership Education process right now, and I am struck by how great it has been to have such good friends lately. For example:
Sarah complimented my blog last week (maybe 2 weeks ago?) in her livejournal, and it is always nice to get an unexpected compliment. Yours isn't so bad, either! :)

After a conversation about The Beatles, Nate sent me 5 cd's. Did you catch that? Not only did I get CD'S, I also got a PACKAGE. (Packages=happiness, if you haven't caught onto the recurring theme here.) I'm listening to Revolver right now. Thanks Nathan--next time we will have a better conversation.

My fellow PM, Mike, is lots of fun because he laughs at my jokes. And I laugh at his. And Marybeth and Brendan pretend they are Jack and Karen from Will & Grace and either let us laugh at the joke they don't think is funny or make us laugh harder by doing their impressions.

So maybe I didn't have a Valentine on Monday, but I guess I didn't really need one, because I am happy anyway. Thanks guys.

What!?

http://www.bookcrossing.com/

You know, it's a nice idea. But if you think that I am going to leave a BOOK in some public place where someone might mistreat it...you are WRONG. Dead wrong. I mean really, some people just have no respect. And you can't trust that those people are going to take care of a book. Geeze.

Let's talk about being single in multiple languages!

I don't really mind Valentine's Day so much--I mean, I've had some good ones--but I just don't think it's fun when I wake up, go to Italian, and start my already sort of dismal holiday off by sitting around listening to people talk about spending the weekend with their amiche or ragazzi.

Anyway, avere un giorno di san valentino felice.
(have a happy Valentine's Day.)

I learned in 7th grade, every ingredient is important

If there's one thing I got from my mom, it's the ability to make a mean batch of chocolate chip cookies. Or brownies. (Unfortunately the jell-0 gene must have skipped a generation.) But I am sad to say that my baking skills have become rusty.

It's simply because I don't have the opportunity to keep them honed. My senior year of high school, I was probably baking at least once a month. Now, I can't even remember the last time I made a batch of cookies.

Oh wait. Yes I do. Thursday I made cookies. Chocolate chip ones. A word of advice: one little teaspoon of baking soda is VERY IMPORTANT. Do not forget this, or your cookies will not be good.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to moving into the house even more now, because I will have a real kitchen and real dishes that I don't have to keep stacked in my closet. And I can practice my homemaking skills all I want.

I spell disorganization M-U-P-R-I-N-T-C-E-N-T-E-R

If you are on Miami University's campus today from 12-4 you better stop in the CPA or Shriver and buy some of our cookies. Oh and we have Puppy Chow. So come. Okay?

I had to do an English project that required me to created a laminated and bound instruction booklet. Christina let me use her laminator, so all that was left was the binding. It's pretty cheap to get things done like that on campus, so I went over to the University Print Center. There was one other customer there, but it was 15 minutes before they asked me what I wanted. 10 minutes later, Cliff, the friendly desk worker, took my carefully cut and laminated pages to the back. 10 more minutes later, he brought my carefully cut and laminated pages back in a torn up mess--"something must be wrong with the hole punch thing." Yes, obviously.

So, I was there for another half an hour trying to help the people reprint another one. Unfortunately, I had put a lot of time into lining up the pages and making them double-sided. They did not want to take that time, so they tried about a hundred times to get that thing to print double-sided the right way. And it wasn't working and they were trying to make me sit there while they did it and I was thinking, "You ruined my work. All my work is sitting in a mauled pile on that desk." Eventually they let me leave and told me it would be ready later. After two phone calls ("'Could you e-mail us that file? We lost it.") they finally let me know I would be able to pick up my new booklet. THANK YOU, Cliff.

I went the next morning to pick it up, and this lady comes running into the office from the back. "Do you have your booklet?"
"Yes."
"Oh. They're printing one right now, we didn't think it was finished." Sprints frantically to the back room. "Stop! Don't laminate, don't laminate! We don't need that! Stop!"

Yeah...it was an interesting experience. So, moral of the story: Don't use the Print Center, and buy my damn cookies.

Wondering

if other people have an urge to honk the horn for no reason when people cross the road in front of their cars?

An Unfortunate Way to Spend a Saturday

There are few things worse than spending your weekend working on a loathesome English project. One of those things is spending your weekend working on said English project at the library. Why? Because:

1. Everyone you see as you go to the library knows you are not going out, not with your sweats and your bookbag. No, you are not headed to Academic Quad to meet up with friends, you are headed to Academic Quad to do something academic. And that is depressing.
2. Not only do those people see you, but you also see them. They are enjoying their weekends and you know it. That is depressing as well.
3. I don't know about you, but I really prefer doing things like BEING LAZY all weekend. There are no beds to nap in during breaks from working at the library. There are no tv's to watch a movie on, and there are no enjoyable distractions.
4. Actually, that is a lie, because as you sit in the library there are distractions. I am sitting right now facing shelf upon shelf of "Leisure Books." So let me just say, there are no attainable enjoyable distractions.

So, I guess the only consolation I have tonight, stuck in this room with my English 414 project and my laptop, is that there are actually other people here. I wonder if we could all chip in for some Prozac or something to make this all a little more bearable.

2005 Bloggies

Here is a good article about how to blog.

It's nominated for a 2005 Weblog Award...if you're an internet addict or just like to waste time (or both, like me) there are some fun reads here.

Wondering...

Is it a prerequisite for TA's to lack the ability to perceive that students aren't paying attention at all, or is that something they lose in TA training?

They didn't even start their stories with, "Not to scare you or anything..."

Yesterday I was talking to my dad on AIM, and he told me that he'd had a dream that I had overdosed on some drug and died. No big deal. I mean, seriously, I've been so busy lately that I haven't really had the time to indulge in my crack habit.

This morning at 6:50, my phone rang. Since it was still dark, I knew that it was not time to get up, so I didn't answer it. Then I realized that it was my house ring, and that if it was still dark, it was probably important. So I listened to the voicemail, and it was my mom, telling me that she too had had a bad dream about me and that I was not to do "anything stupid."

Thank you parents. Thank you for scaring the hell out of me.