Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Reclusiveness, Hospitals, Running?

Currently, there are five people on my roommate's twin bed. My bed contains me, my laptop, and my personal space. They each take turns yelling for me to join their clothed orgy, and I politely decline. "Hayley G. Hoover," says PJ, "we have grilled cheese over here." Haha. Sigh. Once again, I have inadvertently become associated with an item of food.

"I don't even love grilled cheese," I tell him, smiling more than is necessary, because one of my roommate's friends is here, and whenever he comes over, I look like an antisocial psycho. Where are all the observers when I'm jumping off with walls with joy? Even when I'm hanging out with friends, I'm still the one on the computer in the corner.

Oh. Oh, alas. Both PJ and Erin are now on top of me. "Do you feel the love?" PJ asks. Erin replies, grunting, swatting his limbs away from her, "I'm feeling something, but it's not love!"

This week has been insane, guys. I spent five hours in a hospital waiting room on Monday because a friend had some kind of virus. She's fine, but it was kind of scary. I hadn't anticipated not having a chance to change clothes after classes, so along with being worried sick for my friend, I was also freezing to death in summery clothes, being judged by the other waiters. Never mind the fact that they were giving their young children sugary pop to drink and swearing in front of them and all kinds of things I can barely tolerate, and... angst, angst, angst.

But, on a more lively note, I've somehow, in the past week, undone nineteen years of fatassery and learned to legitimately enjoy running. What?! Yes, I know. I normally prefer the chubby, sedentary lifestyle popular among nursing home patients, but I've finally found that if I turn up my iPod loud enough to not hear myself breathe or my feet hitting the ground, it feels good. I've also taken to continue being a total weirdo, and I sometimes (okay, frequently) lipsync along to showtunes while I run. It's the same exhilaration that comes from performing, practically, because you're sweaty, but you have to keep singing. *flashes the Nerdfighter hand gesture*

Sexy: People who participate in nanowrimo! After posting this video, I got so many notifications from new "writing buddies" that I literally laughed out loud. I ADORE the internet.
Unsexy: Girls sitting in front of you in class with their thongs hanging out. That was Erin's input to the blog. I actually don't have a big enough problem with T-frames to have thought of it on my own.

Chipotle burritos this year: 33
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,258

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Pig Roast, Hypnotism, Paranormal Activity

This morning, my sister and I drove out to West Virginia to meet up with the rest of my family at my uncle's house. There were a lot of hugs exchanged, a lot of loud, obnoxious stories told to catch up with my aunt and one of my cousins, and, of course, a lot of pie. Oh yeah... and a hundred-pound slaughtered hog, sodomized by a metal pole and rotating slowly on a spit.

What can I say? We're a little bit country. As a vegetarian, you'd think this practice would gross me out, but for some reason, I don't have any qualms about watching a carcass leak watery blood onto a grill. I laughed uncontrollably watching my sister scream and flail as my brother threw the pig's tongue at her. My dad, uncle and brother barbarically sawed off chunks of hide, wiped the knives on their bloody aprons, and licked the organ juice off their fingers. And I, frankly, found it amusing. I mean, I'd rather eat insect excretion than gnaw on a slice of fresh jerky peeled from a mammal with eyes and teeth still intact, but I find the practice itself kind of pleasantly homey. We may be slightly trashy, but at least we've got identity. Hael yeahuh, ya'll.

Anyway, last night was really fun, too. I went to this free indoor pre-Halloween fest with Heather, my roommate, Katie and Kelsey from down the hall, Heather's boyfriend, and Heather's boyfriend's roommate. We were first in line to see a hypnotist perform, and spent the next hour and a half listening to a strange little man with a thick Bostonian accent tell us we were getting sleepy-- very sleepy. I volunteered to have my mind controlled, and admittedly, I did start to doze off after ten minutes of calming music and being told to imagine myself lying in the grass on a summer day. And I tried to stick it out, but somewhere around the fifteen-minute mark, I couldn't stop thinking about how uncomfortable it was to close my eyes and let my head hang in front of a crowd of strangers, and my shoulders started to shake from my desperate efforts to suppress my giggles. "Hayley's laughing," I heard Roomie say. "Look-- she's laughing." I lost it, and was nudged to return to the audience. Hahahahaha. Story of my life.

The audience ended up proving itself the place to be, though, because it was extraordinarily entertaining to watch Heather's boyfriend, Johnny, valiantly keep a straight face while he belly danced, pretending to be in a trance. Katie, however, claims to have been legitimately hypnotized, and after my many attempts to catch her in the joke, still denies that she had any control over herself. I'm a skeptic, of course, but at the same time? Katie's quite the giggler, and her lips didn't even perk up while she threw her hands in the air and "rode a roller coaster," and she seemed genuinely like she was sleepwalking while she waltzed with the girl next to her. I guess the mystery of the legitimacy of hypnotism is another case that remains, presently, unsolved.

After the show, the boys left, and the girls-- including Erin this time-- saw Paranormal Activity together. Heather and I drove the other viewers crazy by analyzing the movie's cinematography, pointing out the inconsistencies in the plot, and making fun of the whole mockumentary style in general. "Oh my gosh, we're all gonna die? Oh no! Just let me adjust the lighting and sound on this camera and haul it on my shoulder as we run away!"

While I'm not going to tell you that it was terrible, since most of the other girls were scared at least once, the whole thing just felt like a halfhearted flop onto the lonelygirl15 bandwagon. The film's entire appeal is in the fact that it feels "real," and I think youtube ruined that for me. I may not know a whole lot about professional screen-acting, but I consider myself an expert on how real people act in front of portable video cameras. And sorry, guys, but Paranormal Activity doesn't really get it. Besides, startles and white noise don't creep me out, and every jabbing attempt at a scary plot was short-lived and unresolved. Booo-ring.

So that's all I've really got for you tonight. I hate to be that blogger who constantly apologizes for a lack of updates but makes little effort to solve the problem, but I mean it when I say I'm going to stop taking off more than one day in a row. It may get harder as NaNoWriMo takes off, but I will prevail. Because I'm Hayley G. Hoover. Bitch.

Sexy: Microwaved cookie dough. I don't care if you think it's gross-- it's better than cookies and raw dough combined. My domestic side comes out whenever the population of our dorm room exceeds its usual four people, and so the other day, I entertained a large group with tea mugs full of dough, and we sat around, eating it with spoons. This is college.
Unsexy: The fact that our ceiling light keeps flashing and refuses to stay on. We've tried over and over again, and we've spoken encouraging, soothing words to our ghost, whom Katie named Night Hawk, urging him to stop playing around. "No luck so far," Hayley said, as she blogged by lamplight and wished she could see past her laptop screen.

Chipotle burritos this year: 33
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,195

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Dough, Glee, My Dad, Secret Government = Chaos

"I see nothing wrong with this," Heather says as my roommate deposits two stacked Oreos into Erin's open mouth. To what is Heather referring? Oh, the fact that the four of us are balancing hot, droopy microwaved dough between our fingers and shoveling uncooked cinnamon rolls down our throats. It was Roomie's idea, and now we're all a combination between sick and joyously laughing.

It's later now, and besides the fact that tonight's episode of Glee was an obvious product placement for 7-Eleven, that show always puts my group in a collective good mood. Unfortunately, PJ couldn't make it this week, and Michal has a cold (despite her unfailing claims that she has tuberculosis. Never mind that she's vaccinated and just being delirious for comedic effect) and we're therefore discussing the show on Skype.

Oh. Oh my. Not to change the subject so abruptly, but look at this conversation I just had with my mother through text messages:
Mom: Dad's listening to mrs nerimon
Hayley: ...
Mom: What?
Hayley: I said "..." as in, "I can't find words to express my feelings about that."
Mom: I told him he could get it on itunes
Hayley: Oooooh my goodness, Mother.
Mom: He's moved on to the fine kone
Hayley: Tell Dad that he's acting like one of those creepy old men you tell me to avoid on the internet!
Mom: Lol

I... wow. After that, I'm not sure there's much left to say.

Sexy: The Glee cast cover of "Sweet Caroline" from tonight's episode.
Unsexy: TWQP, who spent today's class secretly embarrassing me by talking about YouTube and Adsense, telling us about prescription pill addiction, and claiming that every time you use any sort of household appliance, the "secret underground global government" is recording every bit of information about you.

Chipotle burritos this year: 33
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,126

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Scattered Blogging Reunion & Mindy Kaling

As the saying goes, if you love something, you should ignore it for a full week. If tons of your readers send you messages and comments and @replies begging you to update, it's yours. Well, blog, you are mine.

Heeey, guys. Before you ask, I have no witty excuse for my short hiatus. My week has been eventful but not busy, and plenty of blog-worthy insights have occurred to me in the late, lazy evenings. I'm not avoiding anybody or engaging in any kind of illicit, explicit activity I'd be too ashamed to rehash to you fine people. I guess, from time to time, you just get a little tired of spilling your soul for the world to see. Definitely not too tired to quit, mind you. Just tired enough to temporarily ignore my self-appointed duties in favor of less time-consuming, more inane internet outlets, like twitter and dailybooth. Haha. Ugh.

So what have I been up to? Suddenly and randomly, I decided to go home for the weekend, and spent Saturday seeing the double feature of Toy Story and Toy Story 2 in 3D with TOLauren. It occurred to us early on that we were the only audience members-- save the soccer moms hiding behind their dark 3D glasses for a ten-dollar nap-- with birth dates that precede the original releases of the films themselves. By the end of the four hours, the whole rest of the theater was crying, as Michael Buckley once said, "some of them because of the movie, some for personal reasons." Besides managing to see Jess for a fraction of a second, that was the extent of my social escapades. At the time of night I'd be getting ready to go out at school, I sat in bed with my parents and talked and talked about my new life until my dad literally snored and my mom's attention span started to wane. Comfortable, but alone for the first time in a long time, I snuggled into my humungous bed with my ever-loving puppy and the allergenic dog fur my eyes hadn't missed.

Since coming back to Athens, I've done little besides plan eagerly for the Halloween festivities, narrowly avoid a gigantic, hazardous fire that could have been caused by my bedside reading lamp that melted from a lightbulb, have lunch with a seriously cool girl, and develop an obsession with another tele-playwright. Since I don't feel like going into detail about any of those other bits, let me tell you how awesome Mindy Kaling is.

Sexy: Mindy Kaling is, um, really awesome. If you don't recognize her name (which I, admittedly, would not have been able to place earlier this morning), she's the actress who plays Kelly on The Office. Little did I know, however, that she is also responsible for writing several episodes of the show, including the majority of my favorites, like Pam and Jim's wedding. Oh, and her tweets and blogs are beyond hilarious. I... may or may not have stalked her extensively for most of the day, and the process of said stalking may or may not have included my reading virtually everything she has ever put into type. You can call me crazy if you want, but you can't deny that she is both funny and fantastic. She spends part of her time living up to the caricature of a ditzy girl she plays on the show, and the other part putting things so poignantly that I can't help but drool with jealousy and girlcrushness.

Unsexy: The unreasonably unpredictable weather patterns for which Ohio is famous. One minute, cold rain, another minute, sunshiny glory. MAKE UP YOUR MIND! FOR THE LOVE!

Chipotle burritos this year: 33
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,149

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Fidelity and Controversy

My two-hour class on gender and sexuality begins with a lecture, conducted by a woman professor I really admire, and then divides off into discussion groups for the second half. My original group was a pretty awesome experience for me, because for the first time in my life, I was a religious minority among my peers. The girl to my right was Buddhist, a couple of girls were Jewish, one was a practicing Catholic, some were atheists, some agnostic, some apathetic. I looked forward to meeting with them because we had in common our tolerance and interest in the subject. Well, we just finished the midterm, so the class was divided into new discussion groups this afternoon. Ugh.

While everyone else in my new group seems interesting and nice, it took about five minutes for me to realize that I'm probably just not going to see eye-to-eye with one of the boys. To begin, we went around the circle and introduced ourselves by our names and majors, and I heard a bit of a giggle-snort come from the boy's corner when I announced that I'm studying Creative Writing. I ignored the laugh, because I know that my major sounds unrealistic and frivolous, and I've gotten used to the fact. But it was hard for me to not shoot a "What the hell?" expression his way when the boy told our group that his major is Studio Art. But I let it go, figuring I'd probably imagined his response.

Once we got past the get-ta-know-ya phase, my group jumped right into a fascinating rapport about our views on marriage, most of us saying that we have at least substantial interest in someday having a nuclear family (or a secure family with committed same-sex parents), and that we strive, ideally, to not need divorces. That's when the boy stated that, while he does believe in marriage and wants to get married someday, he thinks we put too much emphasis on the impossible concept of monogamy, because it's against human nature to never "read the menu." The rest of us agreed that, yes, there's nothing wrong with looking at the "sexiest men alive" in magazines, and that eventually, everybody will have some kind of secret lust within themselves. The boy pushed his point further, though, to say that there's nothing wrong with scattered infidelity. Again, the majority of us said that should such a problem come up in our own marriages, we would probably be able to work through it sensibly according to our situations, and would not necessarily immediately leave, but that we don't believe it's okay. "A moment of weakness that shakes up our married life is an obstacle," said the girl next to me, "but if my husband cheats on me more than once, he can go off and deal with that problem somewhere far away from me." I laughed and agreed. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Everybody falls off the boat sometimes," he said. "Think of how many one-night stands you have. You can't expect people to just turn that off when they get married."

"I don't have one-night stands," I responded, "and I don't plan to marry someone who does. Or, at least, I'm not going to marry someone who hasn't grown out of that stage. I think some people can be happy having sex within relationships or for fun their whole lives, and more power to them, but they shouldn't be promising themselves to one person, forever, if they don't mean it."

That set him off. "Everyone makes mistakes in the heat of the moment. What if your husband goes out and gets drunk and accidentally hooks up with a stranger?"

"Actually," I said, doing a pretty good job at keeping my cool, but starting to get a little heated on the inside, "a lot of time goes into the act of cheating, and he has plenty of chances to stop himself. More importantly, I don't want to marry the kind of man who goes out and gets blackout drunk without me frequently enough that he can allow curiosity to turn into action without considering his wife."

"That's unrealistic," he said.

"Maybe it is for some people in some circumstances," I answered, "and I'm not judging them. I'm just saying that from where I stand, with no attachments to anybody, I want to pick someone who goes beyond society's low expectations!"

He simple rolled his eyes, exhausted, and class was dismissed.

Siiiiiigh. It's awfully fun to get into debates like that, and by "awfully fun," I mean both fun and awful. I had so much bottled-up energy after class that I walked around campus to cool off and relayed the discussion to my mom over the phone. My mom is super conservative, and therefore she gets a kick whenever her "artsy free-spirit" youngest daughter displays any hint of traditionalism. Truth be told, though, I don't subscribe to either mindset. I don't believe in ultimate black-and-white values for all people everywhere, but I also don't think some right-wing ideas are disgusting and wrong just because they're old. Either way, I love how college is an environment designed to help people like me figure life out, and as frustrating as my little debate was, I feel totally exhilarated. Yaaay, college!

Sexy: The fact that I've finagled the prompt for my Mass Media paper enough that I get to write it about blogging and YouTube. The first author listed in my bibliography is one Mr. Alan Lastufka. I know I shouldn't feel devious, as it's a perfectly justified topic and Alan's book is a perfectly credible source, but it still seems like I'm getting away with something!
Unsexy: The fact that I'm homesick for my parents. It became apparent to me during today's discussion that fathers like mine-- ones that play an equal part in raising their kids, and stick around for all time-- are really rare. I'm so lucky.

Chipotle burritos this year: 32
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,027

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Monday, October 12, 2009

Media Freakout and Rob Paravonian

I wanted to blog last night, but I got really caught up in a lofty English assignment, and when I finally relaxed my shoulders and hit "print," a censor went off in the back of my mind, triggering a minor freakout. My fears were confirmed when I dug up the syllabus for Mass Media (The World's Quietest Professor's class), and saw, under October 12th, one dreadful word: TEST. Test!?! I hadn't listened all week! When was the last time I'd listened? What was the test even ON?

I therefore put my insomnia to good use by pulling my very first all-American all-nighter, and read what felt like thousands of pages about CBS and Morse Code and LPs and nickelodeons. I can't tell you how lucky it was that I've already become accustomed to not sleeping, and that the subject matter was actually really interesting. I now have a big crush on Orson Welles, for example. I also have a studying hangover.

Despite my night of reading, I've found that college has taught me to relax a little bit... because had this been high school, I wouldn't have gotten up in the morning with a "what's coming will come, and we'll face it when it does" attitude. I somehow made my way to English without too many worry lines on my forehead, and was cheered up significantly when my professor read aloud an essay I'd written as an example of an A. I especially liked that she didn't name the author, because it got to be my special secret accomplishment, rather than something for which my competitive fellow Writing majors would resent me. It felt good.

I walked this good feeling to lunch, where I studied, then to Theatre, where I listened, and finally to Media, where I crossed my fingers. While sweat formed on my brow, I patiently waited for TWQP's footsteps to stop in front of the lecture hall. "As you know, we're a little behind, so we won't be having the quiz on Wednesday," he said. Wednesday!?!? QUIZ?! He went on to say, "Instead, it will be held next Monday."

Cue the sound of a thousand sighs trickling through my body.

Boy, have I learned my lesson. I forced myself to stay on my game throughout the lecture, and I was able to make TWQP smile by correctly answering his question as to why the music industry compiles a Top 40 list. "It's because juke boxes used to hold forty songs," I said, meekly, because nobody speaks in that class, and I felt a little bit like a traitor to the rest of the slackers. TWQP nodded, and said, "Yes. You've been reading the book!" Pfft. Like hell, I have.

So there you have it! Now I just have to work my butt off to finish the annotated bibliography due in his class on Wednesday (which I would have probably forgotten about, had I not chosen today to be Teacher's Pet), and I now know to avoid procrastination. Ha. Get it?

Michal and I went for another walk up to the haunted insane asylum after our classes, and while less intimidating in the daylight, we discovered all kinds of scary details the night had made us overlook. We frolicked through one of the cemeteries, musing about the fact that some of the death-dates precede World War I. We devised hypothetical plans for breaking into one of the buildings heavily labeled with signs warning against asbestos. I did a good deed and snatched a metal "NO TRESPASSING" sign from the ground, because nobody likes a litterbug! Also, through a basement window to one of the buildings, we saw a wall covered with the words "help me" written over and over again. We fully realize that this was probably graffitied by a student trying to scare others, or else recently planted by someone who works in the building to play up the university tradition and increase tourism, but... still. There's the tiniest possibility that it was written by a mistreated mental patient in the 1800s or an unsatisfied ghost, and that's enough for me.

Afterwards, we went to see Rob Paravonian perform. I was super excited, because I subscribe to him on YouTube, and I'm pretty sure he's about to have a Comedy Central show. I showed Michal this video beforehand, and she was just as pumped as I was, but had to leave before Rob even started so she could tend to a problem her boyfriend was having over the phone. I ended up sitting alone, but I was in the seat directly in front of him, and we made a lot of eye contact that flustered me a little bit. Comedy Central is great and all, but I've never been in the same room as someone with 7,000,000 video views, and my poor little video-blogging heart fluttered with youtubely love. I'd heard a lot of his songs and jokes before online, so I wasn't totally surprised or anything, but jokes that are truly funny remain truly funny the second time around. If you've never heard of Rob Paravonian, look him up.

Sexy: Call me predictable, but I'm going to say it: funny guys. You know that Bo Burnham makes me say OOOH (only Megan McCafferty fans will get that joke; read Sloppy Firsts if you don't!), but humor of all kinds attracts me.
Unsexy: Well. Most kinds of humor attract me. You can insult my political beliefs and pick at my religion or race and I'll love you for it, but make a Harry Potter joke, and it's on. Rob suggested tonight that Potter is a movie franchise, and it took all my mental strength not to snap in z-formation and suck my teeth.

Chipotle burritos this year: 32
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 21,004. Yay!

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Saturday, October 10, 2009

NBC should hire me.

If you know me or follow me online, you've heard about my obsession with rain. It's pretty, it's cleansing, it makes coming inside after a walk a lot more rewarding. And although I feel like I'm taking my favorite weather's name in vain, it needs to be said: ATHENS IN THE RAIN CAN BE DEPRESSING AND BORING. It's seven o'clock on a Saturday, and the streets are vacant but for a few overdressed girls scrabbling for things with which to cover the hair they pointlessly straightened. It feels like everybody in the whole school either went home for the weekend or is in hibernation. Ordinarily, I would graciously embrace the excuse to hide away and write with a cup of tea, but I haven't really gone out in weeks. I've caught up on so much sleep in the past couple of days that now I'm antsy and wired. As Cora Corman would say, I want to dance!

Unfortunately, an hour has passed, and I've done nothing but watch Pam and Jim's wedding for the fourteenth time. While it's mildly insulting to my badassitude to be in love with something everybody constantly talks about (no Miley jokes!), The Office is truly a wonderful show. It's really fulfilling to watch two characters you've been following for years finally end up together and perfect.

I can't think of many jobs I'd rather have than writing for TV. I get the feeling I would love the environment of collaborating with smart, funny writers, and having enough anonymity that I could hide behind the actors but still make people laugh. How do you go about becoming one of those writers? Does NBC hire teenagers in the midwest who write cocky blogs about internet culture and the mundane details of their lives? What if I offered to bake them cookies?

Anyway, last night's celebration of Erin's birthday was rather slow and boring, thanks to the constantly nagging precipitation. We went out to eat, talked for a long while at my favorite coffee shop, and ended up parting after we stood under umbrellas for an hour trying to think of something to do. After watching Flight of the Conchords until all hours of the night, I woke up later this afternoon, took a long shower, and went to the hookah bar with Michal and her new roommate. (She recently moved out of the hot pink mess of a triple she shared with two Playboy bunnybes. Get it? Like "wannabes," but bunnies.) It was pleasant. Nothing spectacular. I came back to my dorm because it was freezing and my flipflops were creating toe-sicles, and Michal went to take a nap. She's had enough now, don't you think? I agree. Time to go find some fun.

Sexy: While we're on the topic of television shows with good writing, I'm going to devote today's Sexy, once again, to Glee. Lea Michele is a little brunette bundle of talent and beauty. "If there are two things America needs right now," her character said in last week's episode, "they are sunshine and optimism. Also angels."
Unsexy: The fact that I'm starting to feel a little bit homesick for the first time since moving in six weeks ago. "I'm Jess-sick," I told my best friend through a text message tonight. "What a coincidence!" she responded. "I'm jurassic." Don't try to make sense of that-- it just shows off her affinity for terrible puns. But seriously, with jokes like that, how could I not miss her?

Chipotle burritos this year: 32
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 20,955

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Thank you, Joe Loong.

Hey-yo. Nearly every time I post a video, I link to my blog in the sidebar. Nearly every time I post a video-- even a crappy one, like tonight's 5AG-- I feel this false sense of accomplishment, and therefore can think of nothing else worthy of telling my blog. I would call it a vicious cycle if I condoned the use of cop-out cliches like "vicious cycle." And, you know, if it had... anything to do with a cycle. Regardless, I have nothing to say, but still possess the pressing urge to produce words of some kind.

I tried googling "What to blog about," and got excited when I found some results that appeared relevant. Like this one, for example. This guy suggests that I either a) write about something I've written about before, or b) write about something I haven't written about before. How avant-garde! Thank you, Joe Loong at Network Solutions. Without you, where would I be?

Where would any of us be?

Sexy: The top floor of the school library. I went up there today, stood on the windowsill, and looked down at the gorgeous yellow trees and people riding bikes. Like in Ferris Bueller. It was so quiet and pretty and private.
Unsexy: This.

Chipotle burritos this year: 31
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 20,934

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Scary Stories

While the Insomnia Count has now been upped to six days in a row, I did get to sleep a little bit this morning, since my only class didn't start until after lunch. I know it's not healthy to cause even more ripples in my disturbed sleep cycle by indulging in morning naps, but I'll take what little shuteye I can get. I wore a bona fide blindfold last night, listened to calming music, and drank decaffeinated tea. But for some unknown reason, my body and the environment seem to have bonded together to ensure that I always feel like a zombie.

At three in the morning, I heard somebody knock on my door. I was too irritated to get up, and figured they'd go away. Twenty seconds later, another knock. While in the process of climbing out of my covers, the knocking sound moved to the wall. Then to the other wall. Then the other. Soon, every wall seemed to be tapping and pounding, and I heard what also sounded like a basketball being bounced against the ceiling. I looked to my roommate, but her comatose body appeared to be unfazed by the commotion. This leads me to conclude any of the following: a) I was half asleep and dreaming about my inability to fall into full sleep, b) the girls down the hall were drunk on a Monday night, c) somebody has a personal vendetta against me, d) it was the ghosts, or e) it was somebody staging ghost activity to freak people out. I'm truly stumped.

I told this story to Michal tonight, while we went on a walk to scope out the abandoned mental hospital. Cars were driving by and some people were still in classes, but it was dark. There was also a little bit of unpredicted misty rain, which was probably unnecessary and I suspect just God trying to add some more ambient creepiness. Not that we needed it, though, because Michal is determined to make every day into a horror movie. "Oh, look at this scary path!" she said, walking in its direction. "Let's walk up this frightening hill!"

It was really fascinating. Most of the buildings are renovated and used as an art museum and classrooms today, but the rundown tuberculosis wing is still left untouched, intimidating and daunting. Michal was too nervous, but I walked up the steps to its front porch to find a pile of old wood with stereotypical random nails sticking out of it. The basement doors are corroded and rusty, and through some of the dark windows you can see tattered curtains. We sat at the top of a hill and looked down at a freaky wooden statue of a horse skeleton, and talked about how it's possible that the university works to maintain the alluring mystery by leaving the TB building around. We also considered the more exciting possibility that the rumors are true, and that every time somebody tries to fix it up, the ghost of Margaret Schilling haunts them until they give up. Either way, that horse statue was borderline terrifying, and plenty to satisfy my need to be creeped out.

Naturally, all I can think about now is Halloween. OU is infamous across the country for its parties of all kinds, but Halloween takes it to a whole new level. Crowds flock to Athens for the 31st, dressed in crazy and ornate (see: slutty) costumes, and proceed to fill the streets with mischief and illegal substances. Pretty much every square inch of dorm floor is covered with guests in sleeping bags... not that anybody sleeps. I'm dressing up as Bellatrix Lestrange, because she fulfills the requirements of Sexy and Scary, while adding a touch of nerdy flavor. There's nothing prettier than the midwest in fall, and there's nothing that thrills me more than wearing costumes!

Sexy: How much fun it will be to make my hair do this.
Unsexy: Finishing a midterm, like I did today, and not being able to find out how you did for at least a week. Also, the fact that Jess could have the swine flu.

Chipotle burritos this year: 31
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 20,915

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Monday, October 5, 2009


I didn't sleep again last night, as hard as I tried. I flopped my face into my pillows, counted every farm animal I could think of, ran through every calming technique I use on my campers at RFKC, and still spent dusk to dawn groaning and rubbing my eyes. In this time, I accomplished all kinds of important and timely tasks, like planning which high school friends to invite to my fictional future wedding. I also suffered through a series of boring, realistic half-dreams, like eating a bowl of Cheerios and other exhilarating and fantastic events. It was all so relaxing and refreshing that I was in a vibrant mood when I got up for English at 9:30. So vibrant that I sat in on the King Lear discussion with a scowl, still wearing my pajama shirt under a hoodie, sans bra. Lookin' good!

Luckily, I listened to the advice of my twitter followers and used my hour break between classes to take a shower and slurp some vegan barley soup. It's amazing how a little hot water can serve to replace the process of recharging required for survival. My eye bags became less noticeable, but I felt like my newly-washed hair was mocking me by acting all soft and pillowy. Nineteen years of unruly tangles, and it had to choose today to feel like a Serta mattress.

At least there was Fatass Monday to look forward to. Erin, Heather, Roomie and I had a good (albeit normal-sized and not exactly conducive to its title) meal, then decided to grab some blankets and sit in the grass while there's still enough sun. It was pleasant enough, but only lasted for about an hour, before the fall weather got to us. We hung out around my room for a little bit, and when everyone left, Roomie was really sweet and turned the lights off and put in headphones-- without my asking or anything-- so I could take a nap. And I did! I got in a good hour of uninterrupted sleep, and even though I woke up with that pukey post-evening-nap feeling, it's nothing this cup of raspberry tea can't fix. And, of course, blogging.

Sexy: No matter how many times I watch it (and trust me, I'm going on about seventy views), this will forever be sexy.
Unsexy: I've said it before (the other day!) and I WILL SAY IT AGAIN: CHEWING WITH YOUR MOUTH OPEN. Everywhere I turn, somebody's smacking their saliva around like a spin cycle.

Chipotle burritos this year: 31
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 20,895

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Becoming Nocturnal

I didn't sleep last night. My roommate and most of my school friends went home for the weekend, so there weren't a whole lot of nighttime shenanigans available. PJ came over to watch Mean Girls and make references to internet memes, Erin flopped around my room in a stupor for an hour, and then I just sat in my dorm with the lights on until 6AM, when I took a four-hour nap and woke up refreshed. I have no idea what I did in this time, because it would have been a good time to blog or write a paper or something, but my Safari history seems to think I watched Family Guy on Hulu and repeatedly checked the comments on my new video. All news to me. Either I've recently become an insomniac or somebody slipped something fizzy in my tea.

My dad came down and took me and my sister to dinner on Thursday because he had to go to a business conference near Athens. I only got to see him for about two hours, but it was nice. My mom sent me homemade soup and lightbulbs. I probably could have made a video that night, but I couldn't work up the energy between avoiding studying and dancing to the Whomping Willows with Erin. However, I finally found a way to download the old iMovie HD to my laptop, so the production value on the stuff I make at school will go uphill from now on.

Friday, Friday, Friday. My second and last class of the day (the one for which there was a quiz scheduled) was cancelled, so I only had to be at my waste of time freshman seminar thing that morning. After those two hours of torture, I trekked through the rain back to my room, where I hibernated in order to finish recording my TWK song and video before Erin and I went for a midnight walk around campus. It was the perfect autumn temperature, the lights from the restaurants were all blurry and pretty, and the thousands of people my age in cute heels and fall hats were all laughing and screaming and being awesome. Erin and I were totally sober, but I've never felt more drunk. We didn't even do anything all night, but it was an awesome sort of nothingness. We yelled "Party in the USA" and caused scattered strangers to join in our singing and nod their heads like yeah. The cold air deflated my perfectly-sculpted curls until my reflection in the bathroom mirror was all bedraggled and blushed and chapped as I brushed my teeth at three in the morning. As the Black Eyed Peas would have it, Friday was a good, good night.

Which brings us to the present. I tried Big Mama's today, which is a little burrito shop that some claim is "better than Chipotle." It was interestingly fruity, with mango sauce and sweet onions, but the common comparison to my favorite food ruined my Big Mama's experience. First of all, I'm disgusted that people would put false idols before Chipotle, and second of all, it wasn't anything spectacular. I have to tell you, though, that as I swallowed my last bite, I couldn't help but think, I need to tell my blog readers about the guilt I feel having eaten another foil-wrapped burrito. Forgive me, Chipotle, for I have sinned.

Sexy: Call me a freak, but flannel. Flannel is sexy. "I like that plaid is coming back," said PJ yesterday. "It's nice to know that we, as a society, are willing to give it a third chance."
Unsexy: Chewing with your mouth open! I did a double-take at this guy the other night, but the second he took a bite of pizza, I cringed and averted my eyes.

Chipotle burritos this year: 31
Bagel Street visits this school year: 4
Subscribers: 20,870

Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow.
P.S. I tried changing my blog so the background was black and the words were white today, and it lasted about an hour. I wasn't sure about it, but commenter Karissa said it hurt her eyes, so I took that as advisement to change it back. <3