So I just had a random adventure in Claremont, which resulted in discovering that one of my friends is currently living on campus in a tent on four twin mattresses.
Not quite what I was expecting from my Wednesday night.
Initially the night was to contain some coffee and female bonding/bitching about roommates, boys, life in general. But then the Starbucks* closed early, so we decided to relocate to the humanities house. After a discussion of on campus housing, we decided to investigate. Which brought us to the aforementioned tent dweller.
Oh grad school-these are the memories I'll cherish.
*I know, I know. But I had no choice. I didn't order anything, and the only other coffee shop that's open at night in Claremont is where male escorts** apparently hang out.
**how do I know this? I was studying there over the weekend, and heard quite an interesting discussion about the plights and perils of such a lifestyle from an actual male escort. I only wish I made that up.
mercoledì, marzo 29, 2006
sabato, marzo 18, 2006
boys and turtles and other things I don't understand
I just unexpectedly spent the past 2.5 hours in the library. I was going to get some more (more?! am I serious?! sadly, yes) books for my thesis (almost done with the rough draft! I'm needing the free printing that I can only get from the CMC-undergrad campus where I illegally print from- computer lab, which sadly is closed until Monday... of course if I was a CMC student, I would be able to use my id card, but alas, I'm a poor cheating grad student, who has to wait until the doors are open to everyone... wow, can we say off topic?)
So anyway, I was getting books for my thesis, when the urge to read came over me, and that's what I've been doing for the past few hours. Hence the spasticness, and the lack of academic productivity at the moment.
This weekend, I'm taking care of my friend Chris' turtle. The same turtle that I took home with me for Christmas, and the same turtle that my mother continues to ask about. However, for this weekend, Chris gave me a key to his house, so I head over twice a day for turtle ministrations. Last night, I went over around 11:30 (after having delicious home-made chocolate mousse with raspberries at Emily's house, so good!) expecting to find a house empty of people (his roommates were to be out of town/living at his girlfriend's respectively). I was slightly confused when I saw all the lights on, but the door as locked, so I made my way in thinking that boys have no conception of energy conservation.
No, actually the roommate who is never there (I've seen him once in the entire I've known Chris/hung out at his house) was in the backroom. Which isn't that weird, no. What was weird was that he didn't even bat an eye or ask what I was doing in his house, or how I got in (remember the locked door?). I hastily explained that I was there to take care of the turtle, his response? "Oh, is Chris gone?" Now I know guys as a rule are not so big on the telling roommates spatial information, but on top of the non-plussed attitude to my appearing in his house, the entire exchange was a little strange.
I mean, if someone who I didn't know showed up inside my locked house in the middle of the night, I would at least wonder how they got in.
Earlier that day, I went to Jiffy Lube to get my car's oil changed, etc etc. As I was standing up at the counter, I left my bookbag in my chair. When I turned around to sit back down, I found a young man sitting in my chair, smooshed up against my bag. Oh, and yes, there were other empty (completely without bags or other assorted items in them) chairs in the room. Again, that's a little strange.
So anyway, I was getting books for my thesis, when the urge to read came over me, and that's what I've been doing for the past few hours. Hence the spasticness, and the lack of academic productivity at the moment.
This weekend, I'm taking care of my friend Chris' turtle. The same turtle that I took home with me for Christmas, and the same turtle that my mother continues to ask about. However, for this weekend, Chris gave me a key to his house, so I head over twice a day for turtle ministrations. Last night, I went over around 11:30 (after having delicious home-made chocolate mousse with raspberries at Emily's house, so good!) expecting to find a house empty of people (his roommates were to be out of town/living at his girlfriend's respectively). I was slightly confused when I saw all the lights on, but the door as locked, so I made my way in thinking that boys have no conception of energy conservation.
No, actually the roommate who is never there (I've seen him once in the entire I've known Chris/hung out at his house) was in the backroom. Which isn't that weird, no. What was weird was that he didn't even bat an eye or ask what I was doing in his house, or how I got in (remember the locked door?). I hastily explained that I was there to take care of the turtle, his response? "Oh, is Chris gone?" Now I know guys as a rule are not so big on the telling roommates spatial information, but on top of the non-plussed attitude to my appearing in his house, the entire exchange was a little strange.
I mean, if someone who I didn't know showed up inside my locked house in the middle of the night, I would at least wonder how they got in.
Earlier that day, I went to Jiffy Lube to get my car's oil changed, etc etc. As I was standing up at the counter, I left my bookbag in my chair. When I turned around to sit back down, I found a young man sitting in my chair, smooshed up against my bag. Oh, and yes, there were other empty (completely without bags or other assorted items in them) chairs in the room. Again, that's a little strange.
martedì, marzo 14, 2006
spring break part 1
So maybe its the fact that it's technically Spring Break and I have yet to leave Claremont.
Maybe its this thesis that is slowly draining me of my sanity (but I'm over half way done with the rough draft, so that's something, right?!).
Maybe I'm just tired of life as the status quo.
-wow, could I be more dramatic right now?-
Anyhow, I apparently decided to chop off my hair. Again. It's not Natalie Portman short, but its short enough that I can't pull it into a ponytail. This, for me, is a very big deal. My roommate says it makes me look sophisticated. I'm not sure I'm sophisticated enough to look sophisticated. *sigh* I'm thinking that this is just some weird type of buyer's remorse* coupled with sleep deprivation which leads to extreme tiredness, and soon I'll grow to love this look. It is really cute. I'm just not sure it's me. But that's partly what life is about, right?
But really, that's not even what I intended to write about tonight. I was going to write about the random (mis)adventures I've been having as of late. As I said, Spring Break officially began last Thursday (with my last day of class, woo hoo!) and while I still technically had work and thesis writing, and presentation preparing, I was ready to celebrate. It just so happened to be Tara's birthday that night (well, okay, it was her birthday that entire day, if you want to get technical), so we planned a girl's night accordingly. And yes, there are pictures.
The seven of us foxy ladies got gussied up (seriously, how hot are these women?) and started the nigh off right: with cake at Tina's.
First we went to a tapa's bar in Pasadena. It was a pretty chill place, with good 80s songs being played. The bar also played really random Latin-esque music videos (that were in no way related to the music being played) on large screens in the main room. This provided a great amount of entertainment, as we watched women clad in thigh-high white boots (and other assorted, yet equally disturbing outfits) and matching shorts dance across the desert and other exact locales. Briita also really liked rocking out. We all also liked the Sangria.
Apparently everytime we go to Pasadena we have to go to bar where there's a mechanical bull. And apparently everytime we go, I have to ride it. I'm thinking here "please god, don't look like a fool, stay on." Unbeknownst to me, Kari had pointed out me, Tara and Elaine to the bull controller guy (there has got to be a term for that, any suggestions?) as exeperienced riders and that he shouldn't go easy on us. Which he didn't. But we still prevailed. Why? Because we're awesome. (I even got strangers clapping for me when I was done with my second ride, heh)
We are totally sober here. Shut up.
We ended to night at Denny's (because that's where classy girls like us go), where after nearly getting into a fight with a fascist and telling the infamous panther knock knock joke, we decided to call the evening quits. All in a all, a sucessful birthday.
So that was Tara's birthday. As you can tell, we had a pretty good time. Friday was spent chilling out, something I definitely recommend! Tara and I studied at Borders (read gossip magazines) for a bit and then decided to rent a movie. Which was an adventure, as I'm sure the guys who worked there must have thought we were drunk or stoned, or some combination of the two. Then again, we giggled throughout the store, and could barely contain ourselves as we paid. In our defense, if someone told you that you had a remaining balance of $1.33, you would think you has $1.33 left too, right?
Friday night was spent consuming an obscene amount of meat, as my work had a Texan bbq- which thanks to JR's kick ass smoking skills was awesome! After learning about the wonders of fish eye soup, meteor hunting and why you can't buy bear on ebay (I am not making this up, I work with people who have extremely strange interests), I headed out to everyone's favorite bar (okay, the only bar in Claremont) for Emily's "Emily Quit Her Job Party." Lots of random people, lots of silliness ensued. Sadly no hardcore reggae covers, but there was a pretty decent Irish band playing, so that was fun.
The weekend madness continued with a bbq (yes, more food!) at Elaine's on Saturday. The best part was when Elaine called me and asked if I would break into her house to let people in, as she wasn't going to be back in time for her own bbq! Being the good person, I am, I obliged. Good times spent in her backyard with a flashlight. I'm still somewhat surprised her neighbors didn't call the cops on me. And after a while, she finally showed up. Texan dancing (yeah, I have no idea why my weekend was so Texan-tastic either) in the living room fought against gangsta rap in the kitchen. Nothing says graduate school like Dr. Dre's The Chronic. I mean really.
So that's been my Spring so far: food, thesis writing, Texan related activities, hair cutting, bull riding, and now blogging. It's definitely had its moments.
*which is weird, because I didn't even buy anything- Elaine cut my hair for free, and despite my sleep-deprevived weirdness, I can honestly say she did a kick ass job, and I got salad to boot!
Maybe its this thesis that is slowly draining me of my sanity (but I'm over half way done with the rough draft, so that's something, right?!).
Maybe I'm just tired of life as the status quo.
-wow, could I be more dramatic right now?-
Anyhow, I apparently decided to chop off my hair. Again. It's not Natalie Portman short, but its short enough that I can't pull it into a ponytail. This, for me, is a very big deal. My roommate says it makes me look sophisticated. I'm not sure I'm sophisticated enough to look sophisticated. *sigh* I'm thinking that this is just some weird type of buyer's remorse* coupled with sleep deprivation which leads to extreme tiredness, and soon I'll grow to love this look. It is really cute. I'm just not sure it's me. But that's partly what life is about, right?
But really, that's not even what I intended to write about tonight. I was going to write about the random (mis)adventures I've been having as of late. As I said, Spring Break officially began last Thursday (with my last day of class, woo hoo!) and while I still technically had work and thesis writing, and presentation preparing, I was ready to celebrate. It just so happened to be Tara's birthday that night (well, okay, it was her birthday that entire day, if you want to get technical), so we planned a girl's night accordingly. And yes, there are pictures.
The seven of us foxy ladies got gussied up (seriously, how hot are these women?) and started the nigh off right: with cake at Tina's.
First we went to a tapa's bar in Pasadena. It was a pretty chill place, with good 80s songs being played. The bar also played really random Latin-esque music videos (that were in no way related to the music being played) on large screens in the main room. This provided a great amount of entertainment, as we watched women clad in thigh-high white boots (and other assorted, yet equally disturbing outfits) and matching shorts dance across the desert and other exact locales. Briita also really liked rocking out. We all also liked the Sangria. 
Apparently everytime we go to Pasadena we have to go to bar where there's a mechanical bull. And apparently everytime we go, I have to ride it. I'm thinking here "please god, don't look like a fool, stay on." Unbeknownst to me, Kari had pointed out me, Tara and Elaine to the bull controller guy (there has got to be a term for that, any suggestions?) as exeperienced riders and that he shouldn't go easy on us. Which he didn't. But we still prevailed. Why? Because we're awesome. (I even got strangers clapping for me when I was done with my second ride, heh)
We are totally sober here. Shut up.
We ended to night at Denny's (because that's where classy girls like us go), where after nearly getting into a fight with a fascist and telling the infamous panther knock knock joke, we decided to call the evening quits. All in a all, a sucessful birthday.
So that was Tara's birthday. As you can tell, we had a pretty good time. Friday was spent chilling out, something I definitely recommend! Tara and I studied at Borders (read gossip magazines) for a bit and then decided to rent a movie. Which was an adventure, as I'm sure the guys who worked there must have thought we were drunk or stoned, or some combination of the two. Then again, we giggled throughout the store, and could barely contain ourselves as we paid. In our defense, if someone told you that you had a remaining balance of $1.33, you would think you has $1.33 left too, right?
Friday night was spent consuming an obscene amount of meat, as my work had a Texan bbq- which thanks to JR's kick ass smoking skills was awesome! After learning about the wonders of fish eye soup, meteor hunting and why you can't buy bear on ebay (I am not making this up, I work with people who have extremely strange interests), I headed out to everyone's favorite bar (okay, the only bar in Claremont) for Emily's "Emily Quit Her Job Party." Lots of random people, lots of silliness ensued. Sadly no hardcore reggae covers, but there was a pretty decent Irish band playing, so that was fun.
The weekend madness continued with a bbq (yes, more food!) at Elaine's on Saturday. The best part was when Elaine called me and asked if I would break into her house to let people in, as she wasn't going to be back in time for her own bbq! Being the good person, I am, I obliged. Good times spent in her backyard with a flashlight. I'm still somewhat surprised her neighbors didn't call the cops on me. And after a while, she finally showed up. Texan dancing (yeah, I have no idea why my weekend was so Texan-tastic either) in the living room fought against gangsta rap in the kitchen. Nothing says graduate school like Dr. Dre's The Chronic. I mean really.
So that's been my Spring so far: food, thesis writing, Texan related activities, hair cutting, bull riding, and now blogging. It's definitely had its moments.
*which is weird, because I didn't even buy anything- Elaine cut my hair for free, and despite my sleep-deprevived weirdness, I can honestly say she did a kick ass job, and I got salad to boot!
sabato, marzo 11, 2006
lunedì, marzo 06, 2006
the greatest sentence ever written
And here's some proof that my insanity is not entirely my fault.
This is my new favorite sentence (its from Fasisct Modernism by Andrew Hewitt; a book I'm reading for class this week):
"It is only a decadent decadence that could possibly realize itself in practice--and yet, as a decadent decadence within the very category of the decadent itself, such a decadent decadence might indeed be the purest form of decadence."
good night!
This is my new favorite sentence (its from Fasisct Modernism by Andrew Hewitt; a book I'm reading for class this week):
"It is only a decadent decadence that could possibly realize itself in practice--and yet, as a decadent decadence within the very category of the decadent itself, such a decadent decadence might indeed be the purest form of decadence."
good night!
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