Wondering

why the Cute Boy In My Class chose today to sit beside/have a conversation with me, as today is the day I woke up 13 minutes before the beginning of class?

Luckily, I used a few of my 13 minutes to brush my teeth.

Ak-Rowdy

In honor of my brother, buy a Rubber City tshirt.

This is my personal favorite:

The secret all those cute little girls don't want you to know

There were some Girl Scout cookies today at work, and when I saw the box of Samoas--sorry, Caramel De-lites, I noticed that above the picture of the adorable Girl Scout mountain biking or whatever it is Girl Scouts do nowadays (I'm pretty sure the coolest thing I ever did was make a situpon out of newspaper and a plastic tablecloth), they'd written 0g Trans Fat! as if to say, these cookies are good for you.

Which we all know is a bold-faced LIE.

In fact, that cookie you see above has 70 calories, according to the nutrition facts.

But doesn't it feel good that it's trans fat free? Even if you don't know what trans fat is?

My cup is totally half full

Today I got an email telling me that I have been accepted to join Sigma Tau Delta. Yes. It's just sooooo funny to you, isn't it?

I also took a random internet quiz which told me that I am an English Genius.

It's good to know that when you feel like some things just aren't going quite right, at least you have something.

Even if that something is merely a good grasp of your native language.

Proof that my father is not a shopper

"Well, I came to Columbus to surprise your mom for Valentine's Day. I'm sitting in a parking lot at Easton Mall waiting for her meeting to end."

"That's sweet of you. Where are you going to take her?"

"I don't really know. Do you have any suggestions? I have a map right here."

"Yeah, read me what you've got."

"Let's see...Max & Erma's....P.F. Chang's..."

"Okay, what else?"

"...Banana Republic?"

"Dad, that's a clothing store."

"Oh."

Good things to read and do: Happy Valentine's Day, Internet

How we all secretly feel about Facebook.

Games my mom and I are addicted to.

V-Day PostSecrets (at least until it's updated Sunday)

I haven't played around with it, but this music site looks like it could be fun, and you get to pick what you listen to.

Make these muffins. They are pretty tasty. Or try these cookies.

Words I've used the dictionary for recently, including pronunciation and origin: vociferous, indubitably, contrived, debacle, alright.

And a picture. This is what Brendan and I made the other day:


(There are music notes because we were taking them to a music event, not because music has anything to do with this holiday. Just in case you were wondering.)

Taking the term "multitasking" a little too far

Sometimes while I'm brushing my teeth, I get bored of standing in the bathroom so I wander out to my computer. Usually I take this time to check everyone's blogs and see if they've been updated.

This generally works well because there aren't usually too many updates and if there are they are typically short. The problem arises, though, when someone has decided to post something lengthy and interesting.

So what ends up happening is, I sit here getting toothpaste all over me, and then I have to change, and then it takes me a whole lot longer to get read in the morning.

But hey. I never claimed to be good at mornings.

Such is life

This morning I was in the shower and I had a fabulous idea for a blog entry. It was going to be so amazing, in fact, that you would all love it and I would start to get thousands of hits a day and I would win awards for it.

But now? I have forgotten what it was I was going to write about.

I heart acetaminophen, but not so much the caffeine

(yes, I did look up the word acetaminophen.)

As we all know, I am a huge fan of Tylenol PM. But when I actually have a headache (and not just a pretend one to justify taking the Tylenol PM) I like to take Excedrin. It just works better.

I have found that there are a lot of things I shouldn't do without food in my stomach. These things are:
1. Pass out Halloween candy.*
2. Drink alcohol.**
3. Sit in a quiet room where you can hear things like stomachs growling.
And today, 4. Take Excedrin.

Did you know it has caffeine in it? The website says it has "as much as a cup of coffee." I don't drink coffee, so I don't really know the significance of that, but I have seen the episode of Will and Grace where Jack becomes addicted to iced coffee. I don't want to be like that.

Right now, I don't have a headache, but I am sort of lightheaded and shaky. I took two Excedrin after eating a bowl of cereal earlier today. So I'm asking, is Tylenol PM such a bad thing? No. Is Excedrin? Evidently not if I've taken the time to eat an actual meal.


*This is actually a funny story. My grandparents were on vacation and I was at their empty house passing out candy all by myself. I'd taken some lunch with me, but I dropped it on the back porch when I got there, so no lunch for me! By the time trick-or-treat rolled around, I'd gotten so hungry I had some of the candy. Halfway through the evening I was practically throwing the candy at the kids who were walking up and down the streets. I was so! darn! excited!

**This is not a funny story.

Exaggeration at its finest

"Ahhhh!"

"What happened?"

"The light just exploded in my face!"

"You mean, it just burnt out?"

"Yeah. But it felt like it exploded."

Correspondence inspired by an afternoon in class

Dear Religion 101 TA,
Hi. I just wanted to send you a little note to let you know I think you're doing a fantastic job with our weekly discussion sessions. I'm sure it must be so hard for you here at Miami, being all liberal and everything. You do a pretty good job handling it though. Not smiling! You are so good at this! It really encourages me to voice my opinion in class.

I bet it's really hard on you when we don't respond well to your condescension. I mean, know I get a lot out of conversations when people ask for my opinion and then tell me I'm wrong before graciously adding, "Well, that's my interpretation, but you can have your own." It makes me feel like you really value what I'm saying. In NO WAY does it make me feel like you think I have no grounds for forming ideas of any kind.

Another thing you utilize well is the We're Being Completely Objective in This Class technique: You say we're having an objective discussion about religions, but don't allow us to go ahead and take the majority opinion. Damn those conservative Christian crazies!, you imply. What monsters! And I never thought about it, but how cruel of those Christians to try to save the souls of these people! Thank you for not allowing me to be indoctrinated by European historical opinion. For example, when we discussed a reading and you wouldn't move on until we had pointed out every single instance of "Christian coloring" of the facts. And here I thought that this reading was written by a Native American himself! Silly me! Thank you for clarifying.

Today was an exceptionally good teaching day for you. Not only did you use the "objectivity" technique, but you also smirked when you handed out those pop quizzes, sending an "I know you don't put any work into this class, you little brats" vibe. I've found that I'm really likely to enjoy a class when the people in charge are bitter about the fact that their course is, indeed, part of the liberal arts program. You couple this bitterness with your disdain for us as students quite nicely. I'm quite impressed!

Keep up the good work!
Loren

Why I'll probably get hit by a car when I graduate

There is a big mess of an intersection on campus that separates the English building from the student union. Generally, noon and 5pm are the worst times of day to try to cross this street because there is so much traffic. Add to this the exodus of students leaving and heading for classes and you have a big mess of people who are all in each other's way.

Typically, the College Student Approach to Crossing the Street works best: just go when there aren't any cars and disregard the traffic lights, and if one person goes, follow him or her. This sort of sucks for the people who are driving but being college students we really just don't care. You're going to be sorry if you hit me, AND I probably won't have to go to class. It is a win-win situation for me.

I generally take this approach when I am outside Oxford too, which I realize isn't such a great idea. I find myself on the other side of the street before the rest of my family a lot when I go home, especially when I choose not to use the crosswalk (another part of the Approach is, take the opportunity if you have it). I guess you could say that I am an opportunist when it comes to crossing the street.

Anyway, as I was leaving English 415 today, a big group of us crossed the street between a bunch of backed-up traffic. The light was green but the cars were definitely not going anywhere. People from both sides of the street were crossing, but I noticed a middle-aged woman who'd been in one of my classes last semester still standing on the edge of the road, staring at the traffic light.

She was not going to cross the street until the light changed. Which I suppose is the law-abiding option. But she's never going to get to class. I wanted to tell her that but then I realized, it just wasn't worth it. If you don't appreciate the art of effective street-crossing, you probably never will.

Barbie Doll Influence #1

(There are many more. I didn't realize how many until I was thinking of a title for this. So maybe in the future I'll tell those stories.)

Last week we were talking about birthday parties, and as always, the story of my first real one came up, so I promised Mike I would post it here.

It was the summer after kindergarten. I was six. My parents threw me a pretty sweet Barbie-themed birthday party, which included a scavenger hunt, pin-the-hat-on-the-Barbie, and this game that ruined my entire party: The Race to Dress Your Barbie game. (RDYB game from now on, okay?)

[I'd like to point out right at this minute that it is because I was a spoiled rotten brat that I had such a crazy-awesome (six-year-old girl) party and that the following events happened, and that I am fully aware that I was/am a spoiled rotten brat. Veruca Salt would be jealous.]

My mom had been trying to make the party fun for all of my guests by doing fair things (like lining us up oldest to youngest to play the pin-the-hat-on-the-Barbie game), and I had continued to sabotage her plans by doing unintentional things (like just being the oldest). So when it got to the RDYB game, well, I was starting to figure out that I was NOT going to come out on top during any of these games, Barbie-themed or not. And I was one pissed off six-year-old birthday girl.

Here are the rules of the RDYB game: 2 teams of 4 girls line up. The first girl takes off the Barbie's top (I swear this is G-rated), the second puts on a new one, the third takes off her skirt, and the fourth puts on a new one and runs to my Barbie convertible* and puts her team's Barbie in the seat. The first team with their Barbie sitting in the car wins.

When my mom split up the teams, she put my best friend Rachel in the fourth spot on the opposite team. On my team were my other best friend, myself, my 4-year-old cousin, and someone else. I remember that my cousin was in the first position. And here's the thing about 4-year-olds: they lack the refined motor skills necessary to undress a Barbie. And that's okay. But it was MY BIRTHDAY and I WANTED TO BE A WINNER ON MY BIRTHDAY. So when the Barbie got to me, you can bet I had that skirt on fast enough to catch up with the other team; specifically, my fourth-position-counterpart Rachel. So, we both got to the Barbie car at the same time.

It was neck-and-neck. She probably had her Barbie in the seat just before mine, but wait! There is a trick to this Barbie car! A trick that only I, the owner of said Barbie car, know! And the trick is this: You have to put their feet in at just the right angle or they won't fit and she won't be SITTING in the seat. And that stipulation, my friend, was clearly stated at the beginning of the game: she must be sitting. And my Barbie, she was sitting in that seat. Rachel's was not. She had fallen prey to incorrectly placed feet.

But, my mom, doing that thing again where she THINKS OF OTHERS, gave the other team the win.** And people, I was PISSED. So I did what any Veruca Salt-like child would do: I took my best friend Kayla inside the house, and we opened all my presents because I was like, dude, this party is LAME because I keep losing. Let's ditch this and see what I got. And Kayla was all, yeah, we totally won that Barbie game. Open mine first, okay?

Needless to say, my parents were NOT happy when I came back outside to show them my Barbie patio furniture. They were so NOT happy, in fact, that I did not have another birthday party until something like 6th grade.

As far as the long term effects of this party go, Rachel is still one of my best friends and I'm pretty sure is the only friend from that party I still talk to. And my parents don't bring it up nearly as much as they used to, even though I think my mom still believes I think my team should have won. Even so, every once in a while I like to point out to both Rachel and my mom that MY BARBIE WAS ABSOLUTELY ALL THE WAY IN THAT CAR. So I know I'm the winner in my heart.



*It was a pink Cadillac. We recently found it at my grandparents' house and got rid of it. In retrospect, perhaps this is something I should have kept for posterity.

**Also? They won Barbie trading cards, which I wanted.