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!

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.

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."

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.

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.

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

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.