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