Haven't written in awhile. I would like to say that this is because my life is full of awesomeness and there's just too much of it exploding out of my super crazy teenage lifestyle that I have no time to blog. Alas, this is not so… obviously.
Let me tell you my average schedule of the past 5 days.
8:45- wake up and fumble for the phone cause it’s been vibrating it’s alarm for the past half hour, giving some very strange twists to my dreams, such as a rhino that wants to break into my castle kingdom that I have to fight using my giant sewing needle and thimble.
9:30- get to work, whether by car or by bike (nearly getting crushed by crazy drivers, cause the sidewalks STILL have snow on them because some people just “don’t have enough time” to clear them off in the last WEEK.
10:00- Open up shop at Once Upon A Time, have five unattended children run in and mess everything up and track dirt all over the floor I just vacuumed. Then have an old women come in who only wants to buy the sample doll, even though we have the actual doll in the box, in prime condition, with all the accessories. Somehow, she didn’t clasp the idea that it was called a SAMPLE for a reason.
5:30- finally send the last of the customers on their way, have to deal with the last minute shoppers who don’t understand the meaning of the word ‘closed.’ Then hitch a ride with a fellow employee and listen to a short rant that I’ve heard three times that day about the mailman or aching bones or other employees.
6:00- I get home exhausted.
Some days, though, I have it good and I’m off work. These days are made for reading, so I often curl up downstairs and read. I love it- however, I can’t help but wonder if I make myself too far apart from the rest of the world. For example, the other day my friend called and asked to hang out… I told him I was ‘busy with an important project’ and could only hang out for a bit… that ‘important project’ being starting The Clan of the Cave Bear.
On Sunday, I spent the whole day quilting and watching episodes of Miranda and Its Always Sunny. Day well spent? I think so.
In other fun news, I finally saw Miracle of 34th Street. LOVE IT.
Makes me wish that Santa was real....
Fun fact: I never got the chance to believe in Santa.
This is due to the fact that I have a brother whose 3 years older and a neighborhood full of boys who are older than that for companionship. I can remember when Mom and Dad would try and pull off the whole, "what did Santa bring you?" and I was like, hmm, I'm not sure, it couldn't possibly be the stuff I saw stashed in your closet when I was putting away shoes, was it? That was always the plus to having to do that chore. My brother, he had to take out the trash, while I got to do chores and snoop at the SAME TIME.
I remember discussing Santa with my brother one time. I was debating whether or not my parents were liars, or if it was just a big myth like the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny (never believed in them either. I mean, honestly, a bunny cannot carry all those eggs around. And where did he get the eggs, huh? Those poor chickens, having their eggs stolen then painted and passed out. Imagine, and I apologize cause this thought is gross, that for every egg that gets flushed out of a woman's ovaries, some other animal just came along, plucked it up, colored it pink and blue and yellow, than gave it to someone in a fancy basket with chocolates? Messed up. And for the Tooth Fairy, well lets just stay I mastered fake-sleeping at a very young age). I was trying to reason why the Price boys, the kids down the street, got more presents than us, when they were so much more naughty (apparently I didn't consider being rude to be naughty.) Eric told me then that Santa wore a white sweatshirt with a Holoupki on the front. Either Santa was Slovenian and everyone mixed up Europe and the North Pole, or he was my Grandma.
My brother and I were master snoopers. Like, you can argue that any kid snoops, but no. We were the masters. The present could be wrapped up and everything, It wouldn't matter- we would unwrap gifts noting where every piece of tape was placed and then re-wrap them meticulously.
We had a system where one person would make sure Mom and Dad were distracted downstairs while the other crawled through the closet, unwrapping gifts and looking through bags. It was one of the plus-es of living in an older house- you could hear the floor squeek, giving away the parents position should they be approaching their room. Of course, I had an alibi-- why, angel Julie was just putting away the shoes like a good little girl who does no wrong and always does her chores, not just at Christmas time to butter up her parents to buy her more presents!
The only chance that Santa had of being real was through the presents my Grandma had picked out, wrapped at her house, and stashed in her closet until midnight, or whenever the family had finished playing their card game of Shanghai.
We could not get away with snooping in Grandma's room, not only because we had no alibi, but also because there were eight people in the tiny house, so from anywhere in the house, you were guaranteed to be within sight of an adult. And adults never approved of snooping for some reason....
I would like to say that I have grown out of snooping.
Nope.
Although I'm not as extreme as I used to be, and Eric and I certainly don't plan out our strategies, not to mention Mom and Dad have gotten sneakier (kinda) at hiding the gifts. However, today I did pick through presents and shake a box or two...
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Singing... like a G-6.
So, today I was at work and some lady attempted to call her husband over using the ‘enduring term’ “Sugarlumps”. Which of course reminded me of THIS.
Just about everything makes me feel like breaking into some song or another.
For example, every time I go to take a shower, I end up singing, “I’m too sexy” and then end up singing Captain Jack’s “Follow me” because of the line, “follow me… like a shadow… FOLLOW MEEEEEEE” featuring random singing lady and woodsy sound, because of course everyone talks to their shadow in the shower.
And apparently, its hereditary. Not only does my Dad do it (which I guess I took for granted seeing as he’s a musician and music is coming out of him 94% of the time), my Brother too decided to take the time at work today to serenade me with “im wriiiiiiting a recipttttt” and “sittin’ in the back… sittin in the back”, and other such classic melodies as that.
Of course, the most famous of all is the time when you know you really shouldn’t start singing, but you cant help it. Take, for example, on a first date. When I was out with some guy, he observed that he was to pay for the meal like a gentleman (I’m only feminist about certain things…) , to which I began a chorus of, “You never give me your money” by the Beatles. Or that time someone told me they were feeling low, and I began to sing (and dance) to YMCA. Somehow, being told “YOUNG MAN- there’s no need to feel down, I said YOUNG MAN, pick yourself off the ground!” didn’t do wonders for her feelings…
At least I don’t start singing that Titanic song at job interviews.
The worst thing is when you start singing, and then you can’t stop. Like, there's not a good place to finish singing, so you just kind of carry on, while your voice gets lower and lower until your whispering, acting as if your just singing quietly to yourself and that there’s no one else there and its all for your own personal benefit and well being, like you always happen to sing The Kinks under your breath, even in the middle of conversations and yes, I have lost my train of thought!
Its gotten so bad that I really can’t help myself (I want you and nobody else! Hah, Temptations, my sugar-Pie Honey-Bunch. . such a better pet name than Sugarlump. I mean, honestly? Why would you ever want to be called anything with the word LUMP in it? That word is just so…. Lumpy) .
I have to stop myself from singing in front of customers at work, like when they ask me, “what do you have for under ten dollars?” and I have to fight the urge to go, “any’ting you waaant.”
When you sing with people you hardly know, though, that’s when it’s the worst. You want so badly to make a good impression, but you also want to bond and become instant bosom buddies, so you start singing, “I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend!” and they don’t reciprocate with anything but stares, and then you have to pretend like you defiantly didn’t just pull the first line of a Third Eye Blind song from nowhere and you do, in fact, have a life that doesn’t involve watching the Lord Of the Rings extended editions on New Year’s eve instead of being out partying like all normal people.
And *gasp* you like it like that.
*sugarlumps is just such a horrible pairing of words, that it makes me cringe. It's like combining the words MOIST and DOORKNOB. doorknobs = awesome, moist = moldy. Actually, I kind of like that. "Oh, you are being such a Moist Doorknob today!" Okay, its official, I really am going to stop writing blog posts at 11:30 at night, because they always end in things like moist doorknobs (ALLLWAYS, i want to beeee with you and make believeeee with you, and live in harmony, harmony, oh love!!" and other stupid things. I wasn't planning on posting tonight, but then Ed wrote to me and said she's in pain from having her wisdom teeth out, and that my blog makes her a happy camper. So this is for you, my dear.
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I would like to share some honorary mentions for the top 10 Christmas songs.
1. Can't believe I forgot Gunther. Yeeeah. Ding-dong, it's a Christmas Song.
2. Got this stuck in my head all day at work, thanks to my brother. Cause... I'm havin a Dubstep Christmas.
Just about everything makes me feel like breaking into some song or another.
For example, every time I go to take a shower, I end up singing, “I’m too sexy” and then end up singing Captain Jack’s “Follow me” because of the line, “follow me… like a shadow… FOLLOW MEEEEEEE” featuring random singing lady and woodsy sound, because of course everyone talks to their shadow in the shower.
And apparently, its hereditary. Not only does my Dad do it (which I guess I took for granted seeing as he’s a musician and music is coming out of him 94% of the time), my Brother too decided to take the time at work today to serenade me with “im wriiiiiiting a recipttttt” and “sittin’ in the back… sittin in the back”, and other such classic melodies as that.
Of course, the most famous of all is the time when you know you really shouldn’t start singing, but you cant help it. Take, for example, on a first date. When I was out with some guy, he observed that he was to pay for the meal like a gentleman (I’m only feminist about certain things…) , to which I began a chorus of, “You never give me your money” by the Beatles. Or that time someone told me they were feeling low, and I began to sing (and dance) to YMCA. Somehow, being told “YOUNG MAN- there’s no need to feel down, I said YOUNG MAN, pick yourself off the ground!” didn’t do wonders for her feelings…
At least I don’t start singing that Titanic song at job interviews.
The worst thing is when you start singing, and then you can’t stop. Like, there's not a good place to finish singing, so you just kind of carry on, while your voice gets lower and lower until your whispering, acting as if your just singing quietly to yourself and that there’s no one else there and its all for your own personal benefit and well being, like you always happen to sing The Kinks under your breath, even in the middle of conversations and yes, I have lost my train of thought!
Its gotten so bad that I really can’t help myself (I want you and nobody else! Hah, Temptations, my sugar-Pie Honey-Bunch. . such a better pet name than Sugarlump. I mean, honestly? Why would you ever want to be called anything with the word LUMP in it? That word is just so…. Lumpy) .
I have to stop myself from singing in front of customers at work, like when they ask me, “what do you have for under ten dollars?” and I have to fight the urge to go, “any’ting you waaant.”
When you sing with people you hardly know, though, that’s when it’s the worst. You want so badly to make a good impression, but you also want to bond and become instant bosom buddies, so you start singing, “I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend!” and they don’t reciprocate with anything but stares, and then you have to pretend like you defiantly didn’t just pull the first line of a Third Eye Blind song from nowhere and you do, in fact, have a life that doesn’t involve watching the Lord Of the Rings extended editions on New Year’s eve instead of being out partying like all normal people.
And *gasp* you like it like that.
*sugarlumps is just such a horrible pairing of words, that it makes me cringe. It's like combining the words MOIST and DOORKNOB. doorknobs = awesome, moist = moldy. Actually, I kind of like that. "Oh, you are being such a Moist Doorknob today!" Okay, its official, I really am going to stop writing blog posts at 11:30 at night, because they always end in things like moist doorknobs (ALLLWAYS, i want to beeee with you and make believeeee with you, and live in harmony, harmony, oh love!!" and other stupid things. I wasn't planning on posting tonight, but then Ed wrote to me and said she's in pain from having her wisdom teeth out, and that my blog makes her a happy camper. So this is for you, my dear.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I would like to share some honorary mentions for the top 10 Christmas songs.
1. Can't believe I forgot Gunther. Yeeeah. Ding-dong, it's a Christmas Song.
2. Got this stuck in my head all day at work, thanks to my brother. Cause... I'm havin a Dubstep Christmas.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Yeah, I'm still here.
Did you ever have a day when you’re like, “oh hey, great idea for a painting”, then you go through your things to find that you’ve run out of pages in your sketchbook and your other sketchbook is just too ugly for such a masterpiece, so you set about making a new one, and then get distracted because there’s a girl coming over and you haven’t finished fixing up the dollhouse, so you run downstairs and then you get bored, so you get your laptop, watch two movies (Pocahontas and Hercules) and glue pieces of wood onto stucco siding when your cat decides it’s a grand time to attack you, so you have to go get the camera cause he’s just so darn cute, and of course it’s snowing, so she doesn’t come, but your parents do, so you have to clean up, but first you have to shovel all the snow off the sidewalk and then your brother comes out and you get in a snowball fight? (That was a really long sentence. Felt I had to cut in half. Sorry, that means that there still more listing of things that happen in the average person’s day. Average being a debatable adjective for this scenario.) And THEN your brother wants to go for a bike ride in the snow, even though while you were shoveling you hatched a brilliant idea for a short story and have the dialogue going perfectly in your head and everything, but you can’t bear to see an opportunity such as this come to pass, so you clamor into biking gear but not before taking your cat out into the snow for the first time on to have him go crazy and scratch your chest fifty times in panic. And so you get back, and nothing has been done, and you’re all like, hey, ill write a blog post then, but you have accomplished nothing all day, so there’s nothing to write about? So you procrastinate by watching TV. episodes of your favorite British comedy, Miranda, and eating a ton of pretzels?
Exactly. We all have days like that.
But that's how every single day of this break has gone thus far. That is, I set out to do something, and then I get distracted. It's always little things, but things, none the less, that take away precious time.
Which is my excuse for not writing. Other than having next to nothing to say.
Anyway, I have quite the aspiration for this winter break. I am going to read every single classic novel I can lay my hands on. Sp far, I have accomplished a small dent in my pile by having read the Poisionwood Bible. And read a bit of James Joyce and a Christmas Carol by Dickens.
And today we decorated the Christmas Tree! Pippin was going crazy- I think he loves having a tree inside, not mention having that tree covered in shiny bright objects that make nice clinking sounds when they are batted…
This will be our first Christmas that I can remember without Hezzie sleeping under the tree. Its hard to imagine that one year ago she was still with us, only she would have just started showing signs of having her seizures. Poor baby girl. So, in memory of my darling, and in the Christmas spirit, I would like to offer free publicity for A Pussycats Christmas, or Hezzie’s own personal Christmas story with a touch of Pippins playful, deviant, curiosity.
I suggest that everyone read this story, or at least look at the pictures-- ADORABLE.
Also, i can't believe I've gone this long into a blog without writing about my cat. Crazy.
Expect an update very soon!
Exactly. We all have days like that.
But that's how every single day of this break has gone thus far. That is, I set out to do something, and then I get distracted. It's always little things, but things, none the less, that take away precious time.
Which is my excuse for not writing. Other than having next to nothing to say.
Anyway, I have quite the aspiration for this winter break. I am going to read every single classic novel I can lay my hands on. Sp far, I have accomplished a small dent in my pile by having read the Poisionwood Bible. And read a bit of James Joyce and a Christmas Carol by Dickens.
And today we decorated the Christmas Tree! Pippin was going crazy- I think he loves having a tree inside, not mention having that tree covered in shiny bright objects that make nice clinking sounds when they are batted…
This will be our first Christmas that I can remember without Hezzie sleeping under the tree. Its hard to imagine that one year ago she was still with us, only she would have just started showing signs of having her seizures. Poor baby girl. So, in memory of my darling, and in the Christmas spirit, I would like to offer free publicity for A Pussycats Christmas, or Hezzie’s own personal Christmas story with a touch of Pippins playful, deviant, curiosity.
I suggest that everyone read this story, or at least look at the pictures-- ADORABLE.
Also, i can't believe I've gone this long into a blog without writing about my cat. Crazy.
Expect an update very soon!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Awkward Encounters with Boys. Part I.
Today, I went for an innocent run in innocent gym shorts and a huge baggy sweatshirt that had once belonged to my brother, when a car slowed down, and some guy yelled, “nice legs!”
I’m pretty sure that if he had actually seen my legs, he wouldn’t have said that.
I’m also pretty sure he was eleven.
Funnily, the first thing I thought of was, ”How Offensive!”, not because it was a semi-sexist comment that really didn’t need to be shouted from a car, but because what if these weren’t my real legs? Like, what if I was in a tragic car accident and I had gotten a fake pair of legs, and I decided to try my hand at running with them? Surely anyone in this situation (which I’m sure happens a lot) would never go out in public with their prosthetic leg ever again, being scarred for life from being recognizable from a moving vehicle.
Furthermore, why is an eleven year old interested in legs?
Anyway, I would have appreciated it as a compliment if he wasn’t at least eight years younger than me, but apparently, all complimenting skills skipped my generation, leaving me with only the most awkward guy stories to tell. Which begins with a story from when i was, ironically, eleven.
Awkward things I say to boys. Part 1.
It was the seventh grade. I was young, nerdy, with hair that belonged in that musical, Hairspray (the ugly haircuts, just to clarify). I wore windbreaker pants and random t-shirts to school every day. And I had braces.
He was a new kid, with hair so blonde it was a dazzling shade of white.
Meet Justin Hatfield. That one kid who asked out ten girls in one day.
One of them being me.
I still have the note he passed me during English class….
“Juli,
I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me!”
“Dear Justin, Maybe if you spelled my name right….”
But that was not the end of Justin.
Four days letter, I receive a questionnaire, sporting questions such as, “Are you my friend? (circle yes or no)” and “Do you like me in any other way? How?_______________” with a nice line to fill in an answer.
Poor little romantic twerp.
Anyway, I soon realized that I was too young, and would much rather spit and run through mud than go on a "date" with the guy who asks out every other girl he meets.
I’m pretty sure that if he had actually seen my legs, he wouldn’t have said that.
I’m also pretty sure he was eleven.
Funnily, the first thing I thought of was, ”How Offensive!”, not because it was a semi-sexist comment that really didn’t need to be shouted from a car, but because what if these weren’t my real legs? Like, what if I was in a tragic car accident and I had gotten a fake pair of legs, and I decided to try my hand at running with them? Surely anyone in this situation (which I’m sure happens a lot) would never go out in public with their prosthetic leg ever again, being scarred for life from being recognizable from a moving vehicle.
Furthermore, why is an eleven year old interested in legs?
Anyway, I would have appreciated it as a compliment if he wasn’t at least eight years younger than me, but apparently, all complimenting skills skipped my generation, leaving me with only the most awkward guy stories to tell. Which begins with a story from when i was, ironically, eleven.
Awkward things I say to boys. Part 1.
It was the seventh grade. I was young, nerdy, with hair that belonged in that musical, Hairspray (the ugly haircuts, just to clarify). I wore windbreaker pants and random t-shirts to school every day. And I had braces.
He was a new kid, with hair so blonde it was a dazzling shade of white.
Meet Justin Hatfield. That one kid who asked out ten girls in one day.
One of them being me.
I still have the note he passed me during English class….
“Juli,
I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me!”
“Dear Justin, Maybe if you spelled my name right….”
But that was not the end of Justin.
Four days letter, I receive a questionnaire, sporting questions such as, “Are you my friend? (circle yes or no)” and “Do you like me in any other way? How?_______________” with a nice line to fill in an answer.
Poor little romantic twerp.
Anyway, I soon realized that I was too young, and would much rather spit and run through mud than go on a "date" with the guy who asks out every other girl he meets.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Top 10 Alternative Christmas Songs.
If you are allowed to have one guilty pleasure in life, mine is bad Christmas songs.
I love you, Bing Crosby, and I love every one of your Christmas songs, but sometimes I just need to include a bit of rap and techno beatz to my celebrations. You understand, don’t you? (no, I wouldn’t understand either…)
I’ll be the first one to say that these covers are TERRIBLE. Absolutely the most horrible, out of line, Christmas songs ever produced. And I love them.
So here you go, the worst of the worst, which to me, equals the best.
1. All I want for Christmas is you
Mariah Carey sings this, but in my mind, all I can see is this girl I used to work with, Kelly, singing into a doll hairbrush, and another coworker, Elise, raising her eyebrows. Not that Kelly was a bad singer. In fact, I was very, very, amused. Being a lowly freshman in high school, the actions of seniors were all very new and wonderful to me. Now, as a freshman in college, I can still say that this song is a never-ending amusement and a wonderful way for me to express my feelings, as I serenade my bored roommate while she tries to recuperate after finishing her Math final… (good job Erin!)
2. Last Christmas
The lyrics for this song are so brilliant… “Last Christmas I gave you my heart and the very next day, you gave it away… this year to save me from tears, ill give it to someone special…”
First of all, I’m so sorry for you WHAM! that you would trust someone with your entire heart… but ever try being an independent and living for yourself? No? I think you will find that it will “save you from tears” and maybe you can find out that you don’t need someone else to make you happy, that you can find joy in your family and friends without any “romance” or any of that crap. Trust me WHAM!, its overrated.
Last Christmas for me was spent creating a Max suit from Where the Wild Things Are, and when I gave it to my ex-boyfriend, what did he say? Thank you? Nah, rather, “you should have left holes for shoes.” Well, I think I redefined “special” for you WHAM!, so stick that in your complaining pipe and smoke it.
The best moments of Christmas is shared with people who you can be yourself with. (cheesy? Yeah, but its Christmas, so cut me a break.)
Also, I wish the scanner was working so that I could provide an original example of why I love this song so much… in the most recent letter that I got from Christine, she drew me a picture of her being shunned by her roomie because she has no Christmas decorations on her side of the dorm. And in a little speech bubble, it says “I HATE CHRISTMAS (except for last Christmas)” It made me laugh all the way down campus walk, making me a victim of suspicious stares.
3. Christmas shoes
I remember hearing this song for the first time… I was moved. Deeply. And then my dad heard it. And all sympathy for the little boy who wants to buy shoes for his dying mom was forgotten.
Excuse my feminist point of view, and I know that this is the most nit-picky thing to pull out of this song, but really? I sincerely hope Jesus doesn’t care about shoes and whether dying women look beautiful. Is our Lord and Savior that shallow? I sure hope not. And if I was a dying mama, I would rather have my son, whose name would be George Harrison Fletcher Randall, at my death bed rather than have a pair of shoes. But I’m not exactly a shoe person (shoes are for losers) … I actually want to be buried barefoot, Paul McCartney style.
This song is RIDICULOUS. It’s the “I Believe I Can Fly” of Christmas songs. The music and lyrics are, on the surface, beautiful and heartwarming, but the core of the song is tragically cheesy and poorly written. And guess what—they made a MOVIE out of it. AND a book.
However, I have a relatively cute story to go with this song: Christine and I made an interpretive dance with synchronized hand motions for the entire song once when we were in elementary school during a walk out in the cold. I wish I remember some of those moves…
In the defense of the song, however, I will say that the song writers (their band name is NewSong) do a lot of charity work for homeless children, which I think is very fitting and appropriate. Good job.
4. Jingle Bells
A. Basshunter branches out from doing his brilliant Swedish techno about video games and robots, and decides to cover the classic song. Featuring the absolutely necessary deep, robotized, voice declaring, “ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the JINGLE BASE.” With an introduction like that, you know it must be good.
B. James Taylor does a cover of this song. A touch of funk and some *fresh* jazz elements, and you have a memorable Christmas song that gets played annually to laughing audiences in the Randall household.
My mother was so excited to get a free copy of the James Taylor c.d. with the purchase of six cards from Hallmark… what a deal.
5. White Christmas
This song is one of the timeless Christmas classic. You’d think it would be impossible to ruin. THINK AGAIN. Proudly presenting White Christmas by Melt Banana off of Sony Records.
Melt Banana. Where to begin? They are a Japanese band “known for playing extremely fast noise music mixed with experimental electronica and pop-based song structures” according to Wikipedia. And… yeah, all their music is bizarre. But this song takes the cake.
The song beginss with a nice three notes on base guitar… then THE SCREAM. Followed by “IVEBEENDREAMINGOF-OFAWHITECHRISTMAS!!” Throw in some Hawaiian themed verses, and some bubble noises, and BAM, you win the most random, yet most original song on Julie’s ipod award! What an honor.
6. A Christmas Carol by Tom Lehrer
I love this song.
Probably the best Christmas joke song I have ever heard.
I used to know all the words to this song and perform it for my clueless friends in middle school, who thought I was so clever and came up with it myself (something that I never really cared to clarify…)
7. He’s the Man with All the Toys by the Beach Boys
A great sing-a-long classic, with “HUP!” added in between words to create the ultimate Beach Boys Christmas song (they did A LOT of original Christmas songs- ‘Little Saint Nick’, ‘Merry Christmas Baby’, ‘It’s Gonna be a Surfer’s Christmas’ just to name a few…). Not only that, but they have the higher-than-natural-pitch that we all know and love. It makes me sad to never hear this song on the radio, even though they WILL play Christmas Shoes about twice an hour….
8. Wonderful Christmastime
Paul McCartney will always be an idol for me because of reasons too obvious to explain, but this song just makes me think of Flight of the Concords:
“ You don't measure up to the expectation
When you're unemployed there's no vacation
No one cares, no one sympathizes
You just stay home and play synthesizers.”
Thank you, Inner City Pressure, for allowing Paul McCartney the chance of making an impressive melody out of one instrument.
9. Do they know its Christmastime At All
I understand the groans associated with this song. And I can totally understand why you want to change the radio station, but PLEASE hear me out on this song…
I know the repetition of the chorus, “Feed the World” is pretty clear. But I really don’t think that Band Aid repeating it twelve times is enough to get it into people’s heads that Christmas time is not about presents and candy and getting stuff. There are people in the world who don’t have the opportunity to give, nor do they receive any thing on December 25th. And as wealthy and privileged people, we should give all the help we can to these people, not only at Christmas time, but every day. So maybe instead of dedicating an entire month to buying more stuff, we should shift our focus to others; the underprivileged who live in poverty, those women and men that die from inhumane treatment and violence, and those who suffer from curable diseases.
Okay, I’ll stop preaching and being all Hippie now.
10. All I want for Christmas is to get Crunk
Let me begin by informing you that my love for this song is IRONIC. Let me also repeat. GUILTY PLEASURE.
Now that we have that clear, I can shamelessly admit to knowing all the words to this song by heart. I was introduced to it by my exboyfriend, who joked that it would soon be my favorite Christmas song. Little did he (and I) know that I have a secret obsession with Christmas rap, featuring dirty innuendos and otherwise forward sexual references such as “playing with my dirty toys” with vibrating noises in the background… I mean, how could you not like a song set to Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy with a rap by a group called DIRTY BOYZ? Exactly.
So there you have it. And now you know my 1 weakness in life, and will surely make fun of me for it, and you know what? That is my Christmas Special for you.
I would like to end with my favorite Christmas quote....As Dirty Boyz say, "Happy holidays to all my girls up in here, have a merry Christmas and a crunk new year."
I love you, Bing Crosby, and I love every one of your Christmas songs, but sometimes I just need to include a bit of rap and techno beatz to my celebrations. You understand, don’t you? (no, I wouldn’t understand either…)
I’ll be the first one to say that these covers are TERRIBLE. Absolutely the most horrible, out of line, Christmas songs ever produced. And I love them.
So here you go, the worst of the worst, which to me, equals the best.
1. All I want for Christmas is you
Mariah Carey sings this, but in my mind, all I can see is this girl I used to work with, Kelly, singing into a doll hairbrush, and another coworker, Elise, raising her eyebrows. Not that Kelly was a bad singer. In fact, I was very, very, amused. Being a lowly freshman in high school, the actions of seniors were all very new and wonderful to me. Now, as a freshman in college, I can still say that this song is a never-ending amusement and a wonderful way for me to express my feelings, as I serenade my bored roommate while she tries to recuperate after finishing her Math final… (good job Erin!)
2. Last Christmas
The lyrics for this song are so brilliant… “Last Christmas I gave you my heart and the very next day, you gave it away… this year to save me from tears, ill give it to someone special…”
First of all, I’m so sorry for you WHAM! that you would trust someone with your entire heart… but ever try being an independent and living for yourself? No? I think you will find that it will “save you from tears” and maybe you can find out that you don’t need someone else to make you happy, that you can find joy in your family and friends without any “romance” or any of that crap. Trust me WHAM!, its overrated.
Last Christmas for me was spent creating a Max suit from Where the Wild Things Are, and when I gave it to my ex-boyfriend, what did he say? Thank you? Nah, rather, “you should have left holes for shoes.” Well, I think I redefined “special” for you WHAM!, so stick that in your complaining pipe and smoke it.
The best moments of Christmas is shared with people who you can be yourself with. (cheesy? Yeah, but its Christmas, so cut me a break.)
Also, I wish the scanner was working so that I could provide an original example of why I love this song so much… in the most recent letter that I got from Christine, she drew me a picture of her being shunned by her roomie because she has no Christmas decorations on her side of the dorm. And in a little speech bubble, it says “I HATE CHRISTMAS (except for last Christmas)” It made me laugh all the way down campus walk, making me a victim of suspicious stares.
3. Christmas shoes
I remember hearing this song for the first time… I was moved. Deeply. And then my dad heard it. And all sympathy for the little boy who wants to buy shoes for his dying mom was forgotten.
Excuse my feminist point of view, and I know that this is the most nit-picky thing to pull out of this song, but really? I sincerely hope Jesus doesn’t care about shoes and whether dying women look beautiful. Is our Lord and Savior that shallow? I sure hope not. And if I was a dying mama, I would rather have my son, whose name would be George Harrison Fletcher Randall, at my death bed rather than have a pair of shoes. But I’m not exactly a shoe person (shoes are for losers) … I actually want to be buried barefoot, Paul McCartney style.
This song is RIDICULOUS. It’s the “I Believe I Can Fly” of Christmas songs. The music and lyrics are, on the surface, beautiful and heartwarming, but the core of the song is tragically cheesy and poorly written. And guess what—they made a MOVIE out of it. AND a book.
However, I have a relatively cute story to go with this song: Christine and I made an interpretive dance with synchronized hand motions for the entire song once when we were in elementary school during a walk out in the cold. I wish I remember some of those moves…
In the defense of the song, however, I will say that the song writers (their band name is NewSong) do a lot of charity work for homeless children, which I think is very fitting and appropriate. Good job.
4. Jingle Bells
A. Basshunter branches out from doing his brilliant Swedish techno about video games and robots, and decides to cover the classic song. Featuring the absolutely necessary deep, robotized, voice declaring, “ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the JINGLE BASE.” With an introduction like that, you know it must be good.
B. James Taylor does a cover of this song. A touch of funk and some *fresh* jazz elements, and you have a memorable Christmas song that gets played annually to laughing audiences in the Randall household.
My mother was so excited to get a free copy of the James Taylor c.d. with the purchase of six cards from Hallmark… what a deal.
5. White Christmas
This song is one of the timeless Christmas classic. You’d think it would be impossible to ruin. THINK AGAIN. Proudly presenting White Christmas by Melt Banana off of Sony Records.
Melt Banana. Where to begin? They are a Japanese band “known for playing extremely fast noise music mixed with experimental electronica and pop-based song structures” according to Wikipedia. And… yeah, all their music is bizarre. But this song takes the cake.
The song beginss with a nice three notes on base guitar… then THE SCREAM. Followed by “IVEBEENDREAMINGOF-OFAWHITECHRISTMAS!!” Throw in some Hawaiian themed verses, and some bubble noises, and BAM, you win the most random, yet most original song on Julie’s ipod award! What an honor.
6. A Christmas Carol by Tom Lehrer
I love this song.
Probably the best Christmas joke song I have ever heard.
I used to know all the words to this song and perform it for my clueless friends in middle school, who thought I was so clever and came up with it myself (something that I never really cared to clarify…)
7. He’s the Man with All the Toys by the Beach Boys
A great sing-a-long classic, with “HUP!” added in between words to create the ultimate Beach Boys Christmas song (they did A LOT of original Christmas songs- ‘Little Saint Nick’, ‘Merry Christmas Baby’, ‘It’s Gonna be a Surfer’s Christmas’ just to name a few…). Not only that, but they have the higher-than-natural-pitch that we all know and love. It makes me sad to never hear this song on the radio, even though they WILL play Christmas Shoes about twice an hour….
8. Wonderful Christmastime
Paul McCartney will always be an idol for me because of reasons too obvious to explain, but this song just makes me think of Flight of the Concords:
“ You don't measure up to the expectation
When you're unemployed there's no vacation
No one cares, no one sympathizes
You just stay home and play synthesizers.”
Thank you, Inner City Pressure, for allowing Paul McCartney the chance of making an impressive melody out of one instrument.
9. Do they know its Christmastime At All
I understand the groans associated with this song. And I can totally understand why you want to change the radio station, but PLEASE hear me out on this song…
I know the repetition of the chorus, “Feed the World” is pretty clear. But I really don’t think that Band Aid repeating it twelve times is enough to get it into people’s heads that Christmas time is not about presents and candy and getting stuff. There are people in the world who don’t have the opportunity to give, nor do they receive any thing on December 25th. And as wealthy and privileged people, we should give all the help we can to these people, not only at Christmas time, but every day. So maybe instead of dedicating an entire month to buying more stuff, we should shift our focus to others; the underprivileged who live in poverty, those women and men that die from inhumane treatment and violence, and those who suffer from curable diseases.
Okay, I’ll stop preaching and being all Hippie now.
10. All I want for Christmas is to get Crunk
Let me begin by informing you that my love for this song is IRONIC. Let me also repeat. GUILTY PLEASURE.
Now that we have that clear, I can shamelessly admit to knowing all the words to this song by heart. I was introduced to it by my exboyfriend, who joked that it would soon be my favorite Christmas song. Little did he (and I) know that I have a secret obsession with Christmas rap, featuring dirty innuendos and otherwise forward sexual references such as “playing with my dirty toys” with vibrating noises in the background… I mean, how could you not like a song set to Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy with a rap by a group called DIRTY BOYZ? Exactly.
So there you have it. And now you know my 1 weakness in life, and will surely make fun of me for it, and you know what? That is my Christmas Special for you.
I would like to end with my favorite Christmas quote....As Dirty Boyz say, "Happy holidays to all my girls up in here, have a merry Christmas and a crunk new year."
Monday, December 6, 2010
How to Procrastinate Studying for a Final Exam
*disclaimer* I am in no way endorsing procrastinating studying. In fact, I condemn in. I, in fact, am perfectly fine with my procrastination, because I also get work done… for example, I can tell you the style and time period of a wide variety of buildings, can tell you anything you could want to know about the Trobrilanders, or can easily point out all styles of Disneyization in society. So, no, I’m not the most qualified to make this list, but I do have a small list compiled, so here it goes.
1. Go for a walk.
In fact, go for two. And add some sightseeing in there too. Stop and see the Christmas lights, and the freaky giraffe heads poking over the walls.
2. Go eat.
3. Go for a run.
Run about five miles. Listen to bad dance music and get out all the excess energy you required from drinking AMP.
Then go back to number one.
4. Pack for winter break.
Then go back and unpack, then pack again, then have to unpack again.
5. Go eat again
6. Read something else.
For example, I have recently stolen a copy of Pride and Prejudice from a friend, and, while I would never normally touch Jane Austen, I am finding myself incapable of putting it down in lieu of having to pick something else up… like notes.
7. Make a Study Fort.
‘Cause that’s what all the cool kids are doing.
Erin and I built a fort by stringing sheets from our beds, which are lofted, to create a real palace underneath the covers. We acquired pillows and blankets and now have the best place to “study” on campus…
8. Go on Facebook.
I’m surprised I didn’t list this sooner, but it is normal to waste up to an hour on Facebook, creepin’ on people who are dating your friend’s best friend’s sister, who you’ve never met, nor are going to ever meet.
9. Roll around on the floor.
Surprisingly fun and satisfying. Especially when combined with a game of “eat Erin’s foot” and pretend to be a shark.
10. Go with someone to go eat, but just sit there and stare into space
11. Go check on other Dorm mates to make sure they’re on task.
More likely than not, they aren’t. But in the rare case that they are, slink quietly back into the room and stare at the wall feeling bad that you are procrastinating. Then…
12. Defrost the refrigerator.
13. Clean your desk.
Then decide it’s a prime time to organize all your papers by date. And rearrange your pens so they mimic the rainbow.
14. Catch up on t.v. shows.
Today, I got all caught up on the Office and watched 2 episodes of Community. It was just as rewarding as you think.
15. Make a list of blog topics for the future when you have nothing else to blog about
Because just making a post about defrosting the refrigerator (the highlight of my day) is way too undeserving of an entire post (although, I’m sure I could make an entire post out of the experience..)
Then actually blog about one of said things on list.
Then feel guilty, because you have two major exams tomorrow, and you need to continue studying for them in case the Trobrilanders slipped a new tradition into their culture.
1. Go for a walk.
In fact, go for two. And add some sightseeing in there too. Stop and see the Christmas lights, and the freaky giraffe heads poking over the walls.
2. Go eat.
3. Go for a run.
Run about five miles. Listen to bad dance music and get out all the excess energy you required from drinking AMP.
Then go back to number one.
4. Pack for winter break.
Then go back and unpack, then pack again, then have to unpack again.
5. Go eat again
6. Read something else.
For example, I have recently stolen a copy of Pride and Prejudice from a friend, and, while I would never normally touch Jane Austen, I am finding myself incapable of putting it down in lieu of having to pick something else up… like notes.
7. Make a Study Fort.
‘Cause that’s what all the cool kids are doing.
Erin and I built a fort by stringing sheets from our beds, which are lofted, to create a real palace underneath the covers. We acquired pillows and blankets and now have the best place to “study” on campus…
8. Go on Facebook.
I’m surprised I didn’t list this sooner, but it is normal to waste up to an hour on Facebook, creepin’ on people who are dating your friend’s best friend’s sister, who you’ve never met, nor are going to ever meet.
9. Roll around on the floor.
Surprisingly fun and satisfying. Especially when combined with a game of “eat Erin’s foot” and pretend to be a shark.
10. Go with someone to go eat, but just sit there and stare into space
11. Go check on other Dorm mates to make sure they’re on task.
More likely than not, they aren’t. But in the rare case that they are, slink quietly back into the room and stare at the wall feeling bad that you are procrastinating. Then…
12. Defrost the refrigerator.
13. Clean your desk.
Then decide it’s a prime time to organize all your papers by date. And rearrange your pens so they mimic the rainbow.
14. Catch up on t.v. shows.
Today, I got all caught up on the Office and watched 2 episodes of Community. It was just as rewarding as you think.
15. Make a list of blog topics for the future when you have nothing else to blog about
Because just making a post about defrosting the refrigerator (the highlight of my day) is way too undeserving of an entire post (although, I’m sure I could make an entire post out of the experience..)
Then actually blog about one of said things on list.
Then feel guilty, because you have two major exams tomorrow, and you need to continue studying for them in case the Trobrilanders slipped a new tradition into their culture.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
When I Grow Up...
Several Times a day, I announce I want to be something when I grow up.
And now I realize: I’m going to be “grown up” in about three and a half years. And I’m (hopefully) going to have a job. And more likely than not, it’s not going to be one of the professions I dream about.
A List of Julie’s Top Dream Professions:
1. A Cat.
Pretty self explanatory why I gave up this dream…
2. Writer.
Ever since I knew what a writer was, I’ve wanted to be a writer. And I’ve written my fair share of “stories”, from the super awesome tale of the “Power Cats” who use their super ninja skillz to defeat mailmen, dogs, and aliens in order to save a lost kitten; to the Lion King Prequel, featuring Mufasa and Scar and the *true* ruler, the daughter, who couldn’t take the crown cause she was the “wrong gender” (this was during a childhood feminist stage); to the story of a class of secretive students who all have their oddities and differences (such as being part robot or a super genius), to save the school from an evil vampire; to the love story of Penny and Fletch; to the story of a girl who watches her unknown grandma die as she tells the story of her life Big-Fish style, including the witch who lives alone on the hill and the highway monster who collects all lost possessions.
3. Artist.
Shortly after my writer my brief intermission of wanting to be a writer I decided I wanted to be a Manga artist. I spent hours in my room, listening to bad techno music and drawing my comic. It was pretty fabulous; I’m not going to lie. Unfortunately, high school knocked away that part of me when I became more interested in having friends then sitting in my room having single-person dance parties and drawing soft-porn.
4. Doll house Architect
When I was in junior year, I became re-obsessed with dollhouses. No thanks to my boss, who put a shadow box in front of me and told me to “do with it as I like..” and showed me how to wallpaper and some decorating tips. Well, thanks a lot Lynne, cause then I had to redo my entire dollhouse, and I went crazy. My dollhouse, at home, is a nine room, Victorian farmhouse jr. from Real Good Toys, with an addition on the side. And it is PIMPED OUT. As “pimped out” as a country-French decorated dollhouse could be, complete with chair rails and matching rugs….
Well, last year I made a dollhouse from scrap lumber for an art project. And now I’m obsessed. I look through my architecture books, and I’m like… dang, that would a be sweet little house for a Barrower.
The problem with this occupation is, of course, not being able to sell any dollhouses, because only collectors would pay big bucks for intricate dollhouses with small pieces that would snap under a child’s fingertips. But everyone who I’ve talked to about this seems very supportive, which is ridiculous because they would never buy a dollhouse, no matter how cheap it was.
5. Goat Farmer.
I want to be a goat farmer in either Switzerland or New Zealand. New Zealand is more ideal, because then I can accomplish my other dream of being a hobbit. But seriously, I want to live in a hobbit-hole in the ground, an architectural style I learned, known as a “pit house,” where I will rest with my huge kitchen and pet chickens. And of course, cats. Fifty of them.
Oh, and they won’t be just any goats. Angora Goats. Big, fluffy goats, which I will shear to get mohair, which I will then sell to Steiff to make fine toys….
6. Editor.
More recently, I’ve being toying with the idea of being an editor. Just because I love to yell at people for making grammatical errors and not capitalizing letters (I’m a huge hypocrite, I know). And people tell me off for being “too harsh” when I edit their papers, but come on folks: you don’t use “I” in a college paper, or in any professional paper. And did I mention the best part of this job? No one knows how to write anymore, which means I can get a job nearly anywhere! Still, it would be a desk job and everyone would think I’m a witch because I tear apart their work and shoot flames out of my eyes, but oh well. I’ll be content, as long as I can come home to my fifty cats.
And now I realize: I’m going to be “grown up” in about three and a half years. And I’m (hopefully) going to have a job. And more likely than not, it’s not going to be one of the professions I dream about.
A List of Julie’s Top Dream Professions:
1. A Cat.
Pretty self explanatory why I gave up this dream…
2. Writer.
Ever since I knew what a writer was, I’ve wanted to be a writer. And I’ve written my fair share of “stories”, from the super awesome tale of the “Power Cats” who use their super ninja skillz to defeat mailmen, dogs, and aliens in order to save a lost kitten; to the Lion King Prequel, featuring Mufasa and Scar and the *true* ruler, the daughter, who couldn’t take the crown cause she was the “wrong gender” (this was during a childhood feminist stage); to the story of a class of secretive students who all have their oddities and differences (such as being part robot or a super genius), to save the school from an evil vampire; to the love story of Penny and Fletch; to the story of a girl who watches her unknown grandma die as she tells the story of her life Big-Fish style, including the witch who lives alone on the hill and the highway monster who collects all lost possessions.
3. Artist.
Shortly after my writer my brief intermission of wanting to be a writer I decided I wanted to be a Manga artist. I spent hours in my room, listening to bad techno music and drawing my comic. It was pretty fabulous; I’m not going to lie. Unfortunately, high school knocked away that part of me when I became more interested in having friends then sitting in my room having single-person dance parties and drawing soft-porn.
4. Doll house Architect
When I was in junior year, I became re-obsessed with dollhouses. No thanks to my boss, who put a shadow box in front of me and told me to “do with it as I like..” and showed me how to wallpaper and some decorating tips. Well, thanks a lot Lynne, cause then I had to redo my entire dollhouse, and I went crazy. My dollhouse, at home, is a nine room, Victorian farmhouse jr. from Real Good Toys, with an addition on the side. And it is PIMPED OUT. As “pimped out” as a country-French decorated dollhouse could be, complete with chair rails and matching rugs….
Well, last year I made a dollhouse from scrap lumber for an art project. And now I’m obsessed. I look through my architecture books, and I’m like… dang, that would a be sweet little house for a Barrower.
The problem with this occupation is, of course, not being able to sell any dollhouses, because only collectors would pay big bucks for intricate dollhouses with small pieces that would snap under a child’s fingertips. But everyone who I’ve talked to about this seems very supportive, which is ridiculous because they would never buy a dollhouse, no matter how cheap it was.
5. Goat Farmer.
I want to be a goat farmer in either Switzerland or New Zealand. New Zealand is more ideal, because then I can accomplish my other dream of being a hobbit. But seriously, I want to live in a hobbit-hole in the ground, an architectural style I learned, known as a “pit house,” where I will rest with my huge kitchen and pet chickens. And of course, cats. Fifty of them.
Oh, and they won’t be just any goats. Angora Goats. Big, fluffy goats, which I will shear to get mohair, which I will then sell to Steiff to make fine toys….
6. Editor.
More recently, I’ve being toying with the idea of being an editor. Just because I love to yell at people for making grammatical errors and not capitalizing letters (I’m a huge hypocrite, I know). And people tell me off for being “too harsh” when I edit their papers, but come on folks: you don’t use “I” in a college paper, or in any professional paper. And did I mention the best part of this job? No one knows how to write anymore, which means I can get a job nearly anywhere! Still, it would be a desk job and everyone would think I’m a witch because I tear apart their work and shoot flames out of my eyes, but oh well. I’ll be content, as long as I can come home to my fifty cats.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Its cold. Put on some clothes.
What with it practically being finals week, you'd think I wouldn't have much to say other than I hate to sit and re-read notes. But no. I actually love it, and I do have things to say, I now I realize I probably could have made a better opening to this blog post...
Yesterday it was 35 degrees outside. I was wearing my big fur parka, boots, and some hard core leather gloves. And then I saw them: Wearing shorts.
Okay, I understand that guys don't like to have their rooms be like furnaces, and they don't crank the heat in the car and make sure that all the heat blows on them like my Mother and I do. But When it is 3 degrees from being FREEZING, you'd think college kids would have the common sense to at least put on pants.
But, allow me to rant here (and I don't care if you don't allow it, I'm going to do it anyway cause this is my blog, so hah.), I go to a University where the required g.p.a. is 3.2, which, I know doesn't seem high to all my smarty-pants Brown and Princeton friends, but you would THINK that someone who managed to get into Mary Washington, or any college for that matter, would realize that PEANUT butter contains NUTS. I swear, at our dining hall we have labels on everything. Like butter- contains dairy. NO SH*T. If you didn't know that and somehow managed to get into college... well, I have no faith in Americas education.
Anyway, back to pants.
*this image was on someones door in the dorm. I think I have found my place in the great circle of life. Speaking of which, I've been listening almost exclusively to the Lion King soundtrack with my roommate and our hobo, Christine.*
*even more off topic, about Disney, yesterday was my best friends orchestra concert, and their theme was Fantasia (and some Christmas music too!) and it was absolutely fantastic! It makes me wish that I could play an instrument, but I've never seen someone so in tune with music (pun not intended. Stella is a fabulous violinist, and I wish she would consider a music major, or a minor even, just because I could really see the passion in her playing...*
Something about Fantasia I love: I absolutely am in love with The Pastoral Symphony scene. I remember being in love with the Pegasus' and wanting to be a centaur... I think it's so convenient how each centaur has a mate picked for them by their color.. the green couple, the reds, the blues, ect. It would be so convenient to be like, yup, you are yellow, we must be soul mates! If I was a centaur I would probably swing too instead of doing couple-y stuff. Or building models of the Death Star or something.
ANYWAY what I was going to say before I distracted myself, those kids wearing shorts? Yeah, my good friends. Who I cornered and demand their logic behind wearing such articles of clothing. Apparently, they don't own pants.
Also, yesterday Erin and I went downtown to do some Christmas shopping. This was how we traveled:
I love my roomie <3
Yesterday it was 35 degrees outside. I was wearing my big fur parka, boots, and some hard core leather gloves. And then I saw them: Wearing shorts.
Okay, I understand that guys don't like to have their rooms be like furnaces, and they don't crank the heat in the car and make sure that all the heat blows on them like my Mother and I do. But When it is 3 degrees from being FREEZING, you'd think college kids would have the common sense to at least put on pants.
But, allow me to rant here (and I don't care if you don't allow it, I'm going to do it anyway cause this is my blog, so hah.), I go to a University where the required g.p.a. is 3.2, which, I know doesn't seem high to all my smarty-pants Brown and Princeton friends, but you would THINK that someone who managed to get into Mary Washington, or any college for that matter, would realize that PEANUT butter contains NUTS. I swear, at our dining hall we have labels on everything. Like butter- contains dairy. NO SH*T. If you didn't know that and somehow managed to get into college... well, I have no faith in Americas education.
Anyway, back to pants.
*this image was on someones door in the dorm. I think I have found my place in the great circle of life. Speaking of which, I've been listening almost exclusively to the Lion King soundtrack with my roommate and our hobo, Christine.*
*even more off topic, about Disney, yesterday was my best friends orchestra concert, and their theme was Fantasia (and some Christmas music too!) and it was absolutely fantastic! It makes me wish that I could play an instrument, but I've never seen someone so in tune with music (pun not intended. Stella is a fabulous violinist, and I wish she would consider a music major, or a minor even, just because I could really see the passion in her playing...*
Something about Fantasia I love: I absolutely am in love with The Pastoral Symphony scene. I remember being in love with the Pegasus' and wanting to be a centaur... I think it's so convenient how each centaur has a mate picked for them by their color.. the green couple, the reds, the blues, ect. It would be so convenient to be like, yup, you are yellow, we must be soul mates! If I was a centaur I would probably swing too instead of doing couple-y stuff. Or building models of the Death Star or something.
ANYWAY what I was going to say before I distracted myself, those kids wearing shorts? Yeah, my good friends. Who I cornered and demand their logic behind wearing such articles of clothing. Apparently, they don't own pants.
Also, yesterday Erin and I went downtown to do some Christmas shopping. This was how we traveled:
I love my roomie <3
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Yay For Blerg!
Welcome December! One of my favorite yet least favorite months of a year. December and I have a complicated relationship. We go way back, and no, I don't really want to talk about it...
Next week starts Finals. I'm feeling pretty drained right now, so I'm not sure how well I'll do on my tests. I spent a good twelve hours on an essay, which I have just finished for my Ethics in Literature class. Which is fine, because its probably one of my favorite classes and I LOVE to edit papers and tear them apart with black ink and make all sorts of incoherent and non legible markings.
My other favorite class which I'm going to hate to see go is Historic Preservation. We're looking at architecture. It is so fabulous to look at a style house and go, "oh yes, that is a Bungalow. Oh, now, I'm not a genius. I just know my dollhouses."
Anyway, not much else to say. Met some kids. Watched some movies. Like Harry Potter. And, yes, I do realize that I have mentioned Harry Potter WAY too much, so to balance out my nerdy-ness, here's a picture of my favorite poke'mon. Because, apparently, December is change your profile picture to a poke'mon month (holidays? nah, December is all about the Pokemon!!) but since I like my current picture too much, even with though I'm featuring the Ringo Starr hairdo, I shall just put the picture here.
*update*
Since I live in the oldest dorm on campus that hasn't been renovated in about forty years, we have these really old ghetto heaters under the windows. There are heat controls, but there doesn't seem to be any difference in 5 and 3, so our room is always really hot, unless we open the windows, in which case it is really noisy cause people think its a great idea to stand around and talk really loudly and laugh obnoxiously and drive me insane at bizarre hours, like 2 a.m. Lesson to be learned: Deal with it. Walk around in nothing but your underwear. It works for me.
Next week starts Finals. I'm feeling pretty drained right now, so I'm not sure how well I'll do on my tests. I spent a good twelve hours on an essay, which I have just finished for my Ethics in Literature class. Which is fine, because its probably one of my favorite classes and I LOVE to edit papers and tear them apart with black ink and make all sorts of incoherent and non legible markings.
My other favorite class which I'm going to hate to see go is Historic Preservation. We're looking at architecture. It is so fabulous to look at a style house and go, "oh yes, that is a Bungalow. Oh, now, I'm not a genius. I just know my dollhouses."
Anyway, not much else to say. Met some kids. Watched some movies. Like Harry Potter. And, yes, I do realize that I have mentioned Harry Potter WAY too much, so to balance out my nerdy-ness, here's a picture of my favorite poke'mon. Because, apparently, December is change your profile picture to a poke'mon month (holidays? nah, December is all about the Pokemon!!) but since I like my current picture too much, even with though I'm featuring the Ringo Starr hairdo, I shall just put the picture here.
*update*
Since I live in the oldest dorm on campus that hasn't been renovated in about forty years, we have these really old ghetto heaters under the windows. There are heat controls, but there doesn't seem to be any difference in 5 and 3, so our room is always really hot, unless we open the windows, in which case it is really noisy cause people think its a great idea to stand around and talk really loudly and laugh obnoxiously and drive me insane at bizarre hours, like 2 a.m. Lesson to be learned: Deal with it. Walk around in nothing but your underwear. It works for me.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Oh Yay, I'm a Girl.
So, yesterday, I found myself looking into a mirror (a rare occurrence)and realized I had a mop top! If anything, I looked a bit like Ringo in his awkward bowl cut phase.
Yeah. Not very pleasant, plus if I ever wear a Beatles shirt again with that hair style I'm sure someone will point out that I'm 50 years behind.
So, the second I got in the dorm, I decided something had to happen. Voila!
People have always assumed since I'm a girl, I MUST be capable at cutting hair. Lets see, the haircuts I've given...
1. My friend Mark's hair was down to his shoulders before he wanted it cut, and I was the lucky one who got to chop off his beautiful red hair. It felt like sacrilege, letting that beautiful hair fall to the ground... But his hair looked really good when we were finished.
2. Conrad once had the guts to let me cut his hair. It looked terrible.
3. My brothers hair, which I always did a decent job on, until the forth of July when i was going in close to the ears... and took out a whole chunk of hair. Hahahaa, poor Eric..
I'm sure there's been others, but it turns out that cutting your own hair isn't nearly as fun as cutting someone else's.
When your a girl, people also assume that you must know how to cook, clean, ect. Which I do, and I do well, except the cooking part... But they also assume that you know how to use makeup.
Let me be clear-- I don't wear makeup.
Okay, now that's out in the open, let me define my terror as Stephanie pulls out a makeup bag and Stella pins me to the ground. Just kidding, it wasn't that extreme, but Stephanie attacked my face with makeup. And so She had applied foundation and all that other face stuff which i don't really see the point in cause its just like putting on another coat of skin..? and then they proceeded to the eyes.
I haven't let anyone put eyeliner on me since i was in sixth grade and my friend Kyla tried to put it on me. She poked me in the eye, and I was convinced up until last year that that was the reason why my right eye randomly decides to water up and ONLY that eye. (Turns out it may be genetic, cause Eric has that too.) And the only other time is homecoming my Sophomore year, when I had so much makeup on my face, I was lookin' like a raccoon! (not really).
Anyway, she made me overcome my fear of being blinded by makeup.
Then, they told me I had to curl my eyelashes, THEN put on mascara. Squeezing your eyelashes through a metal guillotine that is supposed to bend them in a way that is going to make them 'longer and more attractive' does not appeal to me.
I refuse to ever take those lengths 'to be a girl' again, because, as my roommate puts it, I am not exactly the most masculine one of all of us, but none the less, testosterone should be embraced at Mary Washington's poorly gender ratio-ed school.
Yeah. Not very pleasant, plus if I ever wear a Beatles shirt again with that hair style I'm sure someone will point out that I'm 50 years behind.
So, the second I got in the dorm, I decided something had to happen. Voila!
People have always assumed since I'm a girl, I MUST be capable at cutting hair. Lets see, the haircuts I've given...
1. My friend Mark's hair was down to his shoulders before he wanted it cut, and I was the lucky one who got to chop off his beautiful red hair. It felt like sacrilege, letting that beautiful hair fall to the ground... But his hair looked really good when we were finished.
2. Conrad once had the guts to let me cut his hair. It looked terrible.
3. My brothers hair, which I always did a decent job on, until the forth of July when i was going in close to the ears... and took out a whole chunk of hair. Hahahaa, poor Eric..
I'm sure there's been others, but it turns out that cutting your own hair isn't nearly as fun as cutting someone else's.
When your a girl, people also assume that you must know how to cook, clean, ect. Which I do, and I do well, except the cooking part... But they also assume that you know how to use makeup.
Let me be clear-- I don't wear makeup.
Okay, now that's out in the open, let me define my terror as Stephanie pulls out a makeup bag and Stella pins me to the ground. Just kidding, it wasn't that extreme, but Stephanie attacked my face with makeup. And so She had applied foundation and all that other face stuff which i don't really see the point in cause its just like putting on another coat of skin..? and then they proceeded to the eyes.
I haven't let anyone put eyeliner on me since i was in sixth grade and my friend Kyla tried to put it on me. She poked me in the eye, and I was convinced up until last year that that was the reason why my right eye randomly decides to water up and ONLY that eye. (Turns out it may be genetic, cause Eric has that too.) And the only other time is homecoming my Sophomore year, when I had so much makeup on my face, I was lookin' like a raccoon! (not really).
Anyway, she made me overcome my fear of being blinded by makeup.
Then, they told me I had to curl my eyelashes, THEN put on mascara. Squeezing your eyelashes through a metal guillotine that is supposed to bend them in a way that is going to make them 'longer and more attractive' does not appeal to me.
I refuse to ever take those lengths 'to be a girl' again, because, as my roommate puts it, I am not exactly the most masculine one of all of us, but none the less, testosterone should be embraced at Mary Washington's poorly gender ratio-ed school.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
What's the longest word in the dictionary?
This morning, a friend of mine told me that she enjoyed reading my blog, but she hadn't read past the first paragraph of my first post. So, to punish those of you who follow that system of 'friendship', I'm going to make you suffer through the entire blog post and leave you in suspense to find the answer to the riddle in the title. And to ensure you're not like, 'well, that's lame, I'll just scroll to the bottom of the page', well, BLAMO, I'm hiding the answer somewhere in the middle of my blog post! MYAHAHAHA.
So, i haven't posted in two days. Because nothing interesting has happened to me. Not like this is anything new...
A summary of the past few days:
1. Went to work. Did a display window, which Chloe helped me with. I really like her, and she's good with displays.
2. Went back to school.
3. Suffered through a Monday that had a terribly exhausting mandatory dance party in my room.
4. Had an eggnog milkshake!! IT WAS BRILLIANT!!!
5. Then i went running. Not so brilliant. *Note to self: probably shouldn't eat milkshakes then, ten minutes later, decide it's a good idea to work on sprints. Just FYI.
6. Last night was pretty fun. Erin and I went to Hyperion, the local coffee shop in downtown Fredericksburg, and met up with two of my soon-to-be best friends, Phillip and Kevin. Somehow, I was the only one who drank coffee. At a coffee shop. Who decides to go to a coffee shop if they hate the taste of coffee?
Oh yeah, and I did homework. And went to class. That one place, you know, which gets lowest priority... just kidding, i love class. In fact, as we 'speak' I am making INTENSE study guides for my finals, which are two weeks from now! Yay!
*the answer: Smiles! Because there's a mile between the S's!*
( i got this from a children's joke book. I read every single joke, and this is the only one that got anything close to a smile.)
Okay, so actual funny story for the day.
This morning, Stella, who slept on our floor like a hobo because the new floor pillows were too comfy to leave, informed me that I had spoken in my dreams. This isn't anything new. Last week, I yelled (yelled!) "If you're not going to do any work, Get the F**k out!" in my sleep. Also, I snore like a Grandpa. So loudly, in fact, that it kept Stella and Erin awake for a good hour. I used to deny the fact that I snore, but now I have fame among my friends on my floor for having perfectly placed snores while the rest of them are watching Romeo And Juliet. ( Like, right when Juliet stabs herself and it's the most dramatic part, they hear a loud snore from behind them. Kinda breaks the intensity of Shakespeare.)
So, I'm pretty much the most attractive sleeper I know.
Anyway, Thanksgiving Break starts for me after 4:45 today, so I probably wont write again until Monday! So you don't have to read my ramblings! Give Thanks!
So, i haven't posted in two days. Because nothing interesting has happened to me. Not like this is anything new...
A summary of the past few days:
1. Went to work. Did a display window, which Chloe helped me with. I really like her, and she's good with displays.
2. Went back to school.
3. Suffered through a Monday that had a terribly exhausting mandatory dance party in my room.
4. Had an eggnog milkshake!! IT WAS BRILLIANT!!!
5. Then i went running. Not so brilliant. *Note to self: probably shouldn't eat milkshakes then, ten minutes later, decide it's a good idea to work on sprints. Just FYI.
6. Last night was pretty fun. Erin and I went to Hyperion, the local coffee shop in downtown Fredericksburg, and met up with two of my soon-to-be best friends, Phillip and Kevin. Somehow, I was the only one who drank coffee. At a coffee shop. Who decides to go to a coffee shop if they hate the taste of coffee?
Oh yeah, and I did homework. And went to class. That one place, you know, which gets lowest priority... just kidding, i love class. In fact, as we 'speak' I am making INTENSE study guides for my finals, which are two weeks from now! Yay!
*the answer: Smiles! Because there's a mile between the S's!*
( i got this from a children's joke book. I read every single joke, and this is the only one that got anything close to a smile.)
Okay, so actual funny story for the day.
This morning, Stella, who slept on our floor like a hobo because the new floor pillows were too comfy to leave, informed me that I had spoken in my dreams. This isn't anything new. Last week, I yelled (yelled!) "If you're not going to do any work, Get the F**k out!" in my sleep. Also, I snore like a Grandpa. So loudly, in fact, that it kept Stella and Erin awake for a good hour. I used to deny the fact that I snore, but now I have fame among my friends on my floor for having perfectly placed snores while the rest of them are watching Romeo And Juliet. ( Like, right when Juliet stabs herself and it's the most dramatic part, they hear a loud snore from behind them. Kinda breaks the intensity of Shakespeare.)
So, I'm pretty much the most attractive sleeper I know.
Anyway, Thanksgiving Break starts for me after 4:45 today, so I probably wont write again until Monday! So you don't have to read my ramblings! Give Thanks!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Thats why I love my brother.
Today, i was summoned to go to V-town and work for my brother, Eric, while he drove to North Carolina. I, being the faithfully loving little sister, immediately dropped everything in Fredericksburg, told everyone i was off to Hogwarts, and come home. Well, tomorrow I shall be working, hopefully putting some Christmas display window ideas into action, and then heading back with the story that Snape was too mean, and the sorting hat told me I didn't really belong anywhere, not even Hufflepuff. (A Note: Hufflepuff is my FAVORITE house, even though everyone makes fun of it. If i had been J.K.Rowling, I would have made the protagonist a Hufflepuff. Or at least mentioned them in the books more often.)
But today was a fabulous day of having no plans, just me and my favorite person ever, (brother Eric), downtown on the mall, checking out the Smithsonian museums. It's so wonderful that they're so close to home, i feel like I don't take advantage of the fact enough. Anyway, we went to see the Norman Rockwell paintings, which were WONDERFUL. We also saw Arcimboldo's paintings, where he created portraits out of people using fruit and vegetables and other such things. Those were inspiring. I'll probably be attempting a portrait made entirely out of cats or something soon.
Then Eric and I went to the Natural History Museum because that museum is too good to ever pass by, and Eric wanted to see the Underwater exhibit. We also saw dinosaurs. I had to keep telling myself i wasn't five anymore and it's not appropriate for me to walk around thinking I'm a t-rex while I'm in that room.
We also went to the relatively new Mammal installment, which is pretty cute. They had all these baby animals, so fluffy and adorable that I now want a pet baby black bear. Eric and I saw the Zebras, and under them, a "discovery point" for children. It showed a picture of zebras and asked the question, "How many zebras can you find?"
To which Eric responded with another question,
"Why does it matter?"
He continued, "A lion is just going to eat one, he doesn't care how many there are. Lion is just going to pick off the weakest, so them all looking the same has no function. Unless, of course, one of the Zebra's was a murderer, trying to blend in for trial or something."
Yeah zebras, we're on to you.
But today was a fabulous day of having no plans, just me and my favorite person ever, (brother Eric), downtown on the mall, checking out the Smithsonian museums. It's so wonderful that they're so close to home, i feel like I don't take advantage of the fact enough. Anyway, we went to see the Norman Rockwell paintings, which were WONDERFUL. We also saw Arcimboldo's paintings, where he created portraits out of people using fruit and vegetables and other such things. Those were inspiring. I'll probably be attempting a portrait made entirely out of cats or something soon.
Then Eric and I went to the Natural History Museum because that museum is too good to ever pass by, and Eric wanted to see the Underwater exhibit. We also saw dinosaurs. I had to keep telling myself i wasn't five anymore and it's not appropriate for me to walk around thinking I'm a t-rex while I'm in that room.
We also went to the relatively new Mammal installment, which is pretty cute. They had all these baby animals, so fluffy and adorable that I now want a pet baby black bear. Eric and I saw the Zebras, and under them, a "discovery point" for children. It showed a picture of zebras and asked the question, "How many zebras can you find?"
To which Eric responded with another question,
"Why does it matter?"
He continued, "A lion is just going to eat one, he doesn't care how many there are. Lion is just going to pick off the weakest, so them all looking the same has no function. Unless, of course, one of the Zebra's was a murderer, trying to blend in for trial or something."
Yeah zebras, we're on to you.
Friday, November 19, 2010
".. can you be dead?"
So yesterday was totally one of the best days of my life. Actually, that's incorrect, technically, TODAY is one of the best days of my life, but right now i have an EPIC HEADACHE cause i only got about 3 hours of sleep last night and then took a 1 hour nap. But it's all worth it cause last night i got to see HARRY POTTER and it was as awesome as i ever could imagine. Seriously, i was actually impressed by a Harry Potter movie.
I dressed up for the show, cause last year everyone dressed up and Andrew was Dobby and I was Winky, and it was so much fun!! But this time i was lacking on costume supplies and money, so i got another pillowcase and just went as Dobby. And, strangely, in Fredericksburg no one dresses up. But everyone loved my costume and lots of people asked if they could take a picture with me. Including this conversation... a dialogue that wouldn't be appropriate anywhere else.
"Hey, do you mind if i get a picture with you?"
"No, of course not, sir. Dobby does whatever master pleases, sir."
"Sweet. Can you be dead?"
"... certainly, sir."
*lays on ground and sticks out tongue attractively*
Yes, it was grand. And i was very in character, in case the dialogue didn't give that away. i got a lot of stares as we were leaving campus. But, no sir, Dobby didn't mind, anything for Mr. Potter, sir!
Anyway, the movie was great. I cried. I laughed. I grabbed onto Stella's arm in fear of being eaten by Nagini.
Oh, and just to clarify, i wasn't the only one in costume. I made my roommate, Erin, dress up. She's on crutches, so we put feathers on her and made her Hedwig. It was cute. Except she died in the first 20 minutes of the movie. I didn't die till the end. And i got a proper funeral. Hah.
Today, i realized how happy i am that i finally have friends that i can talk to and really, truly, enjoy being around, something i never had in high school except when i was around a few select individuals.
At lunch today, Stella was eating Barbecue Wings, and they were hurting her chapped lips, so she goes, "It burns us!", completely unaware that Lord Of the Rings has so taken over our lives and affected our dialogue. Brilliant.
------------------------------*update*---------------------------
So, my dearest friend Conrad sent me a text asking me how I knew a kid named David. I was like, i dont know..? cause I kind of thought he was telling a knock-knock joke (cause THATS normal) or maybe he sent a text to the wrong person or something.. But then I got this message...
"You are in his profile picture as dobby laying on the ground, hehee... Small World"
So there you go. Note Stella's face. laughing at me. As usual.
I dressed up for the show, cause last year everyone dressed up and Andrew was Dobby and I was Winky, and it was so much fun!! But this time i was lacking on costume supplies and money, so i got another pillowcase and just went as Dobby. And, strangely, in Fredericksburg no one dresses up. But everyone loved my costume and lots of people asked if they could take a picture with me. Including this conversation... a dialogue that wouldn't be appropriate anywhere else.
"Hey, do you mind if i get a picture with you?"
"No, of course not, sir. Dobby does whatever master pleases, sir."
"Sweet. Can you be dead?"
"... certainly, sir."
*lays on ground and sticks out tongue attractively*
Yes, it was grand. And i was very in character, in case the dialogue didn't give that away. i got a lot of stares as we were leaving campus. But, no sir, Dobby didn't mind, anything for Mr. Potter, sir!
Anyway, the movie was great. I cried. I laughed. I grabbed onto Stella's arm in fear of being eaten by Nagini.
Oh, and just to clarify, i wasn't the only one in costume. I made my roommate, Erin, dress up. She's on crutches, so we put feathers on her and made her Hedwig. It was cute. Except she died in the first 20 minutes of the movie. I didn't die till the end. And i got a proper funeral. Hah.
Today, i realized how happy i am that i finally have friends that i can talk to and really, truly, enjoy being around, something i never had in high school except when i was around a few select individuals.
At lunch today, Stella was eating Barbecue Wings, and they were hurting her chapped lips, so she goes, "It burns us!", completely unaware that Lord Of the Rings has so taken over our lives and affected our dialogue. Brilliant.
------------------------------*update*---------------------------
So, my dearest friend Conrad sent me a text asking me how I knew a kid named David. I was like, i dont know..? cause I kind of thought he was telling a knock-knock joke (cause THATS normal) or maybe he sent a text to the wrong person or something.. But then I got this message...
"You are in his profile picture as dobby laying on the ground, hehee... Small World"
So there you go. Note Stella's face. laughing at me. As usual.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Today i ate a bagel.
Today i decided that i would take procrastination to a whole new level and start a BLOG!!! Actually, i guess this would count as *re-starting* a blog, seeing as ive tried to do this before, but my life is just very uninteresting, so all my posts are like, "today, i ate a bagel."
So, this blog is probably going to be the most boring thing you will ever read, but you know what? It will be chock-full of things that I find interesting or that i did and actually remember. And for your sake, i suppose i could put in some funny stories.
Like yesterday, i was walking downtown, just minding my own business, when i hear this man go "ARGGG!!!" really loudly. I paused, uncertain of whether or not i should keep walking, but i figured that if it was a murder, they would need someone for the trial.
So, i keep going down the sidewalk, and then i pass this house on my left. This guy is standing on the porch, and he's all like, "hey,whats up", and i know hes the man that yelled.... at his baby through the window, who was laughing and all jolly-faced like a little cherub. It was cute. I guess babies like terrifying yells..? who knew?
Yeah, not funny. But it was my awkward encounter for the day. One of them, at least. And it must have been SO MUCH more awkward for that guy, who was probably like, man, she probably thinks I'm some kind of criminal, creepen' up to peoples windows and yellin' at their babies. Kinda like the snuggler.
If you don't know who the snuggler is, he's a "criminal" who breaks into peoples houses and sleeps next to you. Completely harmless. Completely creepy. Completely ADORABLE. Can you imagine being on jury duty for that case?
Anyway, i leave with the promise of more boring news to come in a timely fashion!
So, this blog is probably going to be the most boring thing you will ever read, but you know what? It will be chock-full of things that I find interesting or that i did and actually remember. And for your sake, i suppose i could put in some funny stories.
Like yesterday, i was walking downtown, just minding my own business, when i hear this man go "ARGGG!!!" really loudly. I paused, uncertain of whether or not i should keep walking, but i figured that if it was a murder, they would need someone for the trial.
So, i keep going down the sidewalk, and then i pass this house on my left. This guy is standing on the porch, and he's all like, "hey,whats up", and i know hes the man that yelled.... at his baby through the window, who was laughing and all jolly-faced like a little cherub. It was cute. I guess babies like terrifying yells..? who knew?
Yeah, not funny. But it was my awkward encounter for the day. One of them, at least. And it must have been SO MUCH more awkward for that guy, who was probably like, man, she probably thinks I'm some kind of criminal, creepen' up to peoples windows and yellin' at their babies. Kinda like the snuggler.
If you don't know who the snuggler is, he's a "criminal" who breaks into peoples houses and sleeps next to you. Completely harmless. Completely creepy. Completely ADORABLE. Can you imagine being on jury duty for that case?
Anyway, i leave with the promise of more boring news to come in a timely fashion!
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