Club MENtality

Things Flo Rida and I have in common: ...well not much, except for the club's inability to handle us. Tonight, this was proved to me. The decision to go out (instead of watching shutter island, which I'd been looking forward to for weeks... not that i'm bitter) was made around 9, so we rounded up the troops, "snookitized" ourselves, put our glad rags on and got ready to have some fun when the clock strikes one. (But really. 12:00 arrival time + 10 minute bathroom trip + 20 minute position establishment + 30 minute warm up/find rhythm time = 1:00 party time. its elementary.)

When we walked in, gone were the familiar faces of our classmates that we had seen there only two nights before. Gone were the 19-22 year olds looking for a good time on a Tuesday. Gone was the middle-aged man in the yellow shirt disco-dancing all night... okay to that one, I say good riddance. In their places were business men, entrepreneurs, and recent college graduates. In their place was the entire population of Southeast Asia and the Middle East combined. Obviously, we were in for a treat.

Having just previously completed a sociology project, my mind must have been in the analyzing mood, because I couldn't help but categorize every type of person I saw. And I find that in clubs in any areas, these characters will arise.

1. The Target: the man you spot when you get into the club and zone in on. Usually, he just ends up being an object of dance move inspiration and you move on to find other partners, but no matter when you see him throughout the night, those hips start to tell the truth a liiittle bit more.

2. The Magnet: You know how if you hold a magnet above iron pieces and you move the magnet, the iron goes wherever the magnet goes? Yeah. This applies to two types of men; he, who for some unfortunate reason, has chosen you as a target (see number 1), or the one who you're dancing with and his head goes wherever yours goes. You turn to the left to avoid his awkward gaze, he juts his head to the left thinking you're playing hard to get with your lips and this is a test for how far he will go to find your love. HINT: it's not. i just don't want to kiss you.

3: The Dead Fish: There's a version of this for every potentially awkward social situation. The limp handshake, the bad kisser, the ...you know. In the dance club, the Dead Fish is your dance partner who no matter how much you shake it like a Polaroid picture, he doesn't move. He just stands there, maybe bouncing a little bit or doing some other pre-teen dance move. Now, I know I'm a bangin' dancer, so if I'm getting no response, I'ma pull a Jay-Z and move on to the next one.

4. The Wallflower: You know those cool wall decorations that every club seems to have that look like dudes just standing there? Let me let you in on a secret-- you're not gonna find that wall paper at Sherwin-Williams. That's what they are. And somehow, despite their lack of social prowess, these guys seem to get girls to dance with them. But they don't move from the wall. They just stand there being grinded on, admiring the view from the back.

5. The Conversationalist: I must have missed the memo where a club with 80 decibel music was the perfect place to ask someone how their day has been. Oh wait. It's not. So shut up and dance. Okay, you ask me my name. Fair enough. Where I go to school? I'll give it to you. But then once you find out I'm studying Spanish and proceed to have the same conversation we just had in Spanish, that's where I draw the line.

6. The Cinematographer: Son, put yo' camera phone away. I'm just trying to dance up here on the stage (hypothetically, mom), so leave me the duck alone. Please.

My-deas

(okay, lets address the elephant in the room, i'm sorry i haven't written in so long. thank you all for your concern. i am back. and now have lots to say so prepare thyselves for many upcoming posts. here is the first.)

Note: this post is rated PG-13 due to drug-related themes

I have recently discovered the website, Highdeas (www.highdeas.com). I've heard of it before, but never frequented it due to the mindset that I had to be in a certain state to appreciate it. A state I am not often in. However, one day, after exhausting all my other blog resources (lamebook, textsfromlastnight, howtouseanescalatorindc, postsecret, the usual suspects), Highdeas popped into my head. I figured I'd give it a shot. Or a hit, as the locals say.

"We are in space right now". That was all it took. That one simple post to get me hooked. I could not stop laughing, thinking of how this is something that someone had thought long and hard about, trying to grasp it fully. And in their defense, it is a very valid point. Thats some crazy sh*t to think about.

I have now realized that going through the day, I have these crazy thoughts that baffle my mind that some may only think about while high. Here are my highdeas:

1. 1648 was 400 years ago. FOUR HUNDRED.

2. right now, Britney Spears could be going to the bathroom. or doing some other mundane task. the fact that she is doing anything is the thing that actually gets me.

3. every single person lives on the same world. let's put country lines into perspective here.

4. no one can just be a person. you have to be from somewhere. you can't just be.

5. feti (think cacti) live inside other people. voldemort much?

Now this is an abbreviated list, because I think a lot of random things that blow my mind, yet don't seem so crazy to other people. But this was just a taste. Whetting your appetite (whet is on the same level of moist in my head. its use implies immediate discomfort), if you will. Because if you're in the ideal state, your appetite will be considerable.

18 going on 45

The inevitable has happened. I knew it would happen eventually, it happens to everyone. I just never thought it would be this soon. I, Kelly Loria, am officially old. Or at least, old-looking. And not the good kind, that gets you in bars without a fake ID. I've passed that stage.

I've always looked older than I am. While moving my sister in to her first year of college, the RA mistook me as the incoming freshman. I had just finished 6th grade. I guess my body fooled itself into being older than it was, also. I hit 5 feet in about the 3rd grade. I got my 12-year molars when I was 8. I was also the first one in my Kindergarten class to have a library card, so clearly I was more intellectually mature as well.

I always thought all that stuff was really cool; I didn't have to waste as much time being a kid as everyone else. Now, I'm dying for people to see that I really am still just a kid.

The first incident came while at the beach. I brought the two kids I babysit for to Walden Pond for a nice fun day in the sun. As I was lying on our blanket, the guy next to me struck up a conversation with me. It wasn't a friendly "Cute kids," or a simple "What a nice day, huh?" No, it was a bold "Are they both yours?" As in, "wow I could see you having one kid, but two? You waste no time! " Let's review... the kids at 9 and 11... therefore I was 8 when the oldest was born. EIGHT. How old do I look that it would be even remotely socially acceptable for me to have a child that is that age?!

Okay, I'll let it slide. Maybe he just couldn't think of any other conversation starters. I have heard that "Hey" is so last fall. But then the next day, it happened again. The children and I were having lunch with one of the neighbor boys, when he asks me, "What grade is your son going into?" My son? I didn't even have a boy with me that he could have mistaken for my son. He just assumed I had one. I guess I just have that matronly feel to me. Or maybe its the extra baby weight that I haven't gotten around to losing. Or my contempt for the world was mistaken for a tragic case of post-partum depression. Must have been one of the three.

The third case was just depressing. I was about to get in the car, then realized I didn't have my sunglasses. I looked around the downstairs, then asked one of my charges if I had left them upstairs. She looked at me, unsure whether I was making a joke, and said, "they're on your head." Yes, I know, this stuff happens all the time. To people with Alzheimers. Good Lord, I'm turning into my mother.

At least I still won't have to worry about being carded.

And the Thunder Rolled

The thunder sounded like fireworks being set off outside my window. I was sure that it was cracking not more than 10 feet from my house, from my room, from my bed. But it wasn't the sound of wrecking balls that kept me awake; it was the lightning. Right as I was about to fall asleep, I would see flashes as bright as if the paparazzi was right next to my bed. The anticipation between the light and the crash that was sure to follow-- the brighter the light, the louder the noise-- that was what kept me so on edge I could not sleep.

After one particularly loud clap, I stopped pretending. I stopped pretending the noise was soothing, that the rain could lull me to sleep instead of making the window screens shake in their frames as if someone was trying to break in. I stopped pretending I wasn't scared, and I stopped pretending I was too old.

So out of my bed I hopped and right into my sisters. She was awake too, but after a rumble that sounded like it was going to take my house down, I realized I needed something more. I ran down the hall and climbed right into the safest haven in the house. Just like being in a car, nothing can harm you in your parents bed during a lightning storm. I fit perfectly in the middle of the two existing inhabitants. Even though the winter comforter that I associated my whole childhood with (throwing it into a pile on the ground, standing on the bed with my sister, pretending to be Aladdin as she was Jasmine, asking her "do you trust me? then JUUUUMP!" as we leapt the two feet off the bed into the lump of down that, for the sake of the game, had been transformed into some sort of Arabic market overhanging) had been replaced by a lighter, summer quilt, it was still warm and smelled of Smartfood.

There, I waited out the storm, until the only noise left was indeed a soothing pitter-patter of rain. I crawled out and back into my own bed. I quickly fell asleep, as there was nothing to keep me awake anymore. And today, when my 20-year old sister asked me, "where did you go in the middle of the the night last night??" And I replied, to mom and dad's room, she said, "and left me alone! I'll hit you guys up next time for sure," I learned that no one is too old to stop pretending.

Things, at home.

Now that I am home and able to look back on my Southern experiences objectively, without having to worry about unexpected and unwanted "company," I can see the things that I will remember most...

Things I have always known but were further instilled* in my brain on this trip:

-I seriously need to wear more clothes.

-I am such a good wingwoman.

-I really want to be a bartender.

-My sister is wicked cool.

It's only the second full day I have been home, and it's strange to see the way a small town changes in so little time. How is it that Blockbuster, a multi-million dollar corporation*, can be replaced by a pet store? First of all, who needs a pet store? Answer: no one. Secondly, in a town that has 5 Dunkin' Donuts, we aren't allowed to have a movie rental* store? Video Signals doesnt count. But it's good to see that some things have not, and probably will never, change. See: the clientele at the 24 hour CVS at night.

Things you expect to see at CVS:

-Bitter cashiers

-Rows of tampons and adult diapers*

-Overwhelming supplies of astronomically high SPF numbers

-Romance novels and teenie bopper magazines, most likely with Justin Bieber on the cover*

Things we do see at CVS:

-Your friend's father, donning hospital scrubs.

-A somewhat drunk, very flustered, high school senior male run up to you asking what cover-up is, and which brand he should buy in order to best mask the massive, bruise-like hickey that is paying rent on half his neck before he goes to prom in 3 days with a different vampiress than the one who was sucking his blood recently.

-A patron deciding they do not want a whole box of Oreos, so opening the case, taking the desired two, and resealing the box. Then realizing that this person is the one you came with.

But of course the best part of returning home is seeing all your friends you haven't seen in so long. Enthusiastic* embraces, exchanges of stories, and a jump back into your old hometown routine.

Things that you would expect in a reunion of two best friends:

-Hugs

-Laughing

-Jumping up and down

-Screaming, squealing, etc.

Things that occurred in an interaction with one Maya Fox today:

-Realizing you are wearing the exact. same. thing. ...and then proceeding to the list above.

From coffee on every street corner, to crazed pre-prom preparations.... yeah, it's good to be home.

*thanks to (NAME DROP!) Emily Guilfoil for synonym and wording assistance.

The Saga Continues

Friday, May 7th. I am awakened by the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs into my sleeping quarters. Well not really, because my sister is a vegetarian and lives in a one floor apartment, but she has made me breakfast. After a delicious meal of pancakes with homemade syrup, she tells me it's time for what I have been dreading for the past week, when I first heard of it; Wipe Your Ass off the Floor with Stuart. Okay, it's actually called Total Body Performance, but if I had had any energy after the class, I would definitely have used it to pick up my ass of the floor.

Things I was told about Stuart, the instructor, beforehand:

1. "His arms are as big as my thighs."

2. He is a chiropractor

Things I was not told:

1. He is encouraging and sweet as sugar

2. and as spicy as jambalaya ;)

(Clearly since the first thing my mind associates everything with is food, I needed to be at this class.)

Needless to say, typing on these keys are the only movements my total body will be performing today. I'll be lucky to be able to move again by August.

5:00: to most people, quittin' time. For Amy, its the beginning of her 10-hour shift at the bar. My first 4 hours there go by relatively unnoteworthily (watch for it, it'll be a Scrabble-accepted word soon). A young guy sitting next to me asks if i "come here often." ... I didn't know people actually used that line in real life. Within the first five minutes, I know his whole life story, from everywhere he has lived, the education statuses of his six siblings, his father's health issues, you get the picture. He asked if I wanted to go get a movie with him, but unfortunately I had to decline; I felt I already knew everything about him and couldn't imagine what we would talk about in the time to and from the theater. Wouldn't want an awkward situation now, would we?

For the next two hours, I was gloriously saved by a phone call from the wonderful 978. But with the end of my phone's battery came the end of the refuge, and I had to snap back to reality. As I sat outside enjoying the warm southern breeze, I heard those dreaded 5 words come from behind me; "Would you like some company?" What is up with these Carolinian men thinking that I always need their company?! Clearly I need to take some tips from Kelly Clarkson on how to be Miss Independent. I turned around and saw the most stereotypical Creeper with a capital C. Middle-aged, long gray crazy hair, a coy look on his face. I wonder where he parked his white van.

"Oh, I'm just.... enjoying watching the traffic...." I stammer. PLEASE PLEASE GET THE HINT

awkward silence

"I'm Paul, by the way." Nope, hint was lost.

handshake. awkward silence.

"I'd love to chat..." Really, man?! come on now clearly I am trying to avoid you at all costs.

So through our "chat," we find out that we share an interest in photography. He whips out a yellow plastic camera as big as a brick and asks if I want my picture taken. Is that a serious question, you psychotic, pedophiliac?! I tell him I prefer to be behind the camera than in front of it, which anyone and their mother could tell you is a falsehood. Luckily, after about 20 minutes, he decides he's going to go in to listen to the music. Sounds like an escape route, if you ask me. Clearly I wasn't entertaining enough. I'm insulted. And yet so, so thrilled.

Thursday, May 6th

11:50 am: You know that feeling you get when you can just tell that you're the odd one out? That's the kind of feeling I got walking into the Greyhound Bus station. All of a sudden, I realized how the cream filling of an Oreo has always felt. I got in line behind a suburban rocker-looking man with a greasy fauxhawk and gauged ears. Although not typically my type, he had a Red Sox backpack so I figured we'd get along. Then he took off his shirt and started applying deodorant in the middle of the station. Suddenly not my type. I kept my friend Sam by my side until the very last minute, clinging dearly to the last bit of familiarity in this strange place.

12:46 pm: The guy in front of me whips out his cell phone and takes a picture of a girl who has just gotten on the bus. He zooms in as far as possible. Apparently he finds her hairstyle amusing. He then proceeds to send it to the girl sitting behind him. Can't she just look to the front of the bus and see it for herself?

3:22 pm: Stop in Richmond to service the bus. I am sitting on a bench minding my own business when I hear, "what are ya reading, young lady?" The man on the other side of the bench and I begin to talk about my book. He then asks me where I go to school. I say Washington DC. He asks if I go to Georgetown.

..........

You know that feeling that you'll never be good enough to meet your parents expectations? Yeah, it's even worse when you can't even meet the expectations of a complete stranger. No, sir, I told him, contrary to popular belief, there are other schools in our nations capital than just The Castle on a Hill. Sorry to disappoint. He asks what I'm studying. Spanish and Latin American Studies. "You must want to be a teacher." Oh, so now you guess right? That's when this casual conversation took a turn. He told me not to be just any old teacher, because there are plenty of them out there doing it just for the paycheck (i told him if i was doing it for the paycheck, i would pick something that would actually give me one). He went on to describe what made a good teacher, and how important the teacher's attitude is in order for the students to reflect the same positive attitude. Hey, inspiration comes at unexpected times.

6:43 pm: Arrive in Raleigh. My sister says she is already there and waiting (and that she also empathizes with the cream filling). I don't see her, so I assume she's waiting outside. I walk around, tell her what I'm near, describe the area. 10 minutes and a "You're in RALEIGH?!" "Isn't that where you live....? no....?" conversation later, I'm back inside, waiting. A man looks over to me, asks if I would like to sit with him and keep him company. In the seat next to him is a razor, tooth brush and soap. I figure he has company enough. Apparently he doesn't think so, because he comes and sits next to me. Ah, yes, how did you know, I was just playing hard to get. He tells me his bus is leaving at 5 am. I ask if he realizes its 7 pm.... as in 10 hours before his departure time. He does. I guess he just wanted to make sure he got a window seat.

8:03 pm: A man walks up to me and says, "your sister is waiting for you outside." Sir, I do not know who you are, how you know she is my sister or that I am the one she is looking for, but thank you, thank you, thank you. Never have I heard such blessed 6 words (except maybe for he's just not that into you, but thats a story for another time).

Un día, se sabrá (si el amor puede mover una montaña)

"I couldn't sleep last night because I know that it's over between us. I'm not bitter anymore, because I know that what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I'll smile at you with joy and remember how we spent the summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that's what you've given me. That's what I hope to give to you forever. I love you. I'll be seeing you."

Basically, that's how the it went. Replace the summer with... one night and the trees with chandelier-like lighting fixtures, and its basically a word for word recount of the story I told my friend the other day. It ended with a nostalgic sigh and "Oh well, it was fun while it lasted." "I guess that's college for you," she replied.

But what does that mean? I guess what is college? Dead ends? Meeting people who get you, who think the exact same way you do? Finding yourself? And Nemo? and Neverland.... and Forrester... yep, that's all part of it. Take out the (mom, you better stop reading here) 7 dollar bottles of champagne and the sexiling and college almost seems like something profound (i really tried to come up with a deeper than that, but couldn't think of one. so much for that theory).

Don't get me wrong, my sentiments towards college are probably one of the only things Asher Roth and I have in common. I love being responsible for my own success. I like having to make my own decisions, whether i end up reaping the benefits or facing the consequences. I like being able to pull the 'poor college student' card, whether its true or not (mom i told you to stop reading!). i like living in a colony of friends, where the younger generation truly does have power over adults.

But despite all this, I don't feel the need to go to college. I recognize the value in a college degree and the opportunities it presents, but I don't think my life is pointing in a direction of a woman in a business suit judging me based on a number on a piece of paper. Somehow, I just don't think thats how the Hondurans roll. In fact, I know how the Hondurans roll. Because I've made baleadas with them.

Sooooo ... I don't really know how to end this ... just like i don't know how my college career will end.... (sappy metaphor, clutch. i guess i did know after all).

Final(s) Daze

You know its finals season when you wake up at a normal breakfast hour on the weekends. 9 pages to write in a day? Helloooo 10 am on a Saturday. We haven't seen each other in a while. Yeah, finals mean heightened levels of stress and lower levels of sleep, but they also mean the end is in sight. And all everyone can seem to be focused on is getting out of here. Every day I see a countdown someone has posted, or hear "home in 6 days!" My friends from home constantly ask me when I'm coming home, and we talk about all the fun things we'll do this summer. But what's the rush? Yes, there are things I'm looking forward to about returning home; Dunkin' Donuts. my dog. stars. Maya. Salt bagels. driving somewhere. driving nowhere. Tedeschi's at 1 am. Mucho Mangoes. Sleeping in. But are iced lattes and stick shifts enough to make me drop everything I have here and run?

It's so weird to think that it's the end already. To think about everything that has happened this year, and know that it's over. But I don't want it to be over. I don't want to have to come back and start over again next year. I need more time. To figure things out, to finalize things, to get closure. I can't leave not knowing. How is that so much seems to be starting just as everything is ending? And when I return home it's the opposite; everything has ended and I will have to start it up again. Seems a little backwards. Can't I just stay a little bit longer?

First semester I would could down days until I could go home. I felt that was where I belonged; that I was at some sort of cruel summer camp here and just wanted it to end so I could go back to my life. Now I don't want to leave? When did that happen. For the first time in my life, summer is too long. Minnesota is too far away (this is not for the first time. it has always been too far. from everything.). So I guess I'll start a new countdown. While everyone else's is getting to be in the single digits, mine is somewhere over 100. 113 days of sun at the Ridge, of making cookies with my aunt, of enjoying dinner on the deck, of surfing the waves with my cousins, of lying at NARA at night. And 113 days til I'm back, with a whole new list of things to enjoy.

Meet the Parents

My family is in town. I called my mother at 12:30 to see what time she thought they would arrive, she said 3:00. I was surprised at the good time they were making. Car rides with the Lorias are always of epic proportions; whether it is leaving at midnight avoid traffic en route to North Carolina, or my dad choking on a peach pit while driving and somehow blaming it on my mother, or having a rug fall off our roof and roll across 495, road trips with the fam are nothing less than entertaining.

good looking group, eh?

for reference; pat: mother. kevin: baby boy. dennis: father. amy: biggest sis. ker: middle sis. also known as ker, kiwi, weewee, middlepath. and me! awkward third one. lost in the ways of the world. independent, but not by choice. but thats for another time.

My mother calls me back at 2:45. They're here! I can't believe they got here without any problems. Oh--spoke too soon. The car broke down. The trusty T&C made it the 480 miles with no problems, and decided to call it quits within walking distance of my school. They are now waiting for a tow truck to take the car to the dealership and get a rental car. Of course. I smiled, thankful that not too much had changed since I've left. This got me thinking of other adventures we've been through that have given the Griswald's their well deserved nickname...

1. The Italian Job: April, 2006. The Loria family takes Europe (clearly foreshadowing to Kelly taking DC)! As we're doing the usual touristy things, we decide to take a tour of the Sistine Chapel. Instead of standing in the long line of people waiting to buy tickets from the establishment, Den decides to "be like a local" and hire a guy on the street to take us through. He says its a great deal; for a low price, we get a personalized tour and headsets to listen to the official guided tour. What a steal! Okay even the kids could see through this like it was doused in Windex. Despite our testaments that we were being cheated, Daddio decided to go through with it. Guess who was right? After paying a large man on a street corner who then mysteriously disappeared, we are taken inside yet all the perks of this tour are no where to be found. After many complaints, the tour leader, or the Scam Man as he was deemed by 10-year old Kevin, starts walkie-talkie-ing his honchos, saying how we were starting a revolution and he couldn't control us. Unexpected twist! Amy understands the entire conversation. Guess that gig is up. How do you say coup d'etat in Italian?

2. Sayanara Sanjaya: April 2007. Being the avid American Idol fans that we are, not even a trip to California was not going to cause us to miss an episode. So Wednesday night comes around and the clan is gathered in a hotel room, waiting anxiously to see who will be voted off. You remember the season--Sanjaya Malakar confused the singing competition with a season of What Not to Wear...on your head.

Well tonight was his night to go. We had been waiting for this moment for months. As soon as Ryan Seacrest announced it was the end of Simba's journey, it was like October 27th, 2004 in Boston. And yes. You should know that date. There was jubilant screaming, kicking, flailing, hugging, probably a few tears shed. And not only because my glasses were broken in the process.

I really wish I was kidding.

3. Far from Home: July 2006? Kelly, Kerry, Pat coming home from Mississippi. Flight cancelled in New York. Drive home with strangers we just met? No rental cars. Stay the night? No hotel rooms. Get picked up by Den? Phones die. Thank goodness for air mattress--sleep in airport! 1 am... vacuums. 3 am... Fire alarms. 6 am bus. 10 am commuter rail. noon, home sweet home. Who said Planes, Trains and Automobiles were just for John Candy and Steve Martin?

Honorable Mentions: That time we went to Florida... by way of California. economical!

That time we lost our dog the day we got her, only to find her asleep under the deck.

That time Pat called the neighbors in the middle of the night to protect the house from robbers...turns out the noise was just the gerbils.

That time Kevvy spilled the whole tank of sea monkeys all over the kitchen (yeah...we're not really good with pets).

I know, I know you want in. Most people do.

Life is like the Movies. (?)

I can come up with a song for everything. Give me a word, I'll find you a lyric. I have a playlist for every mood and I always know what to listen to to cater to whatever I'm feeling.

I don't have a song for this one. It's a little Naturally, a little Goodbye Waves and Driveways. It's a whole lotta Rascal Flatts. But I just can't find that one thing that it really....is.

Therefore, I have turned to the film industry. There's always a good chick flick that makes you want to smile and cry at the same time. In that light, I have compiled the top 10 Displays of Affection in the (some of the) best movies of all time. AHEM....

10. Adam Sandler making Drew Barrymore a video recapping their life together: 50 First Dates. Basically, Sandler finds an issue in the fact that his girlfriends memory resets itself everyday, so she never remembers that they met. Orrr.... maybe her memory is fine and she's trying to send you a hint buddy. Who knows. I'm not the writer. But so it goes, they get married (because why wouldn't you believe someone you thought to be a total stranger when they come up to you telling you you've been together for years and you're getting married today? logical.), have kids (new dating tip: tell the girl she has amnesia, youre actually married, and she's been wanting to have kids for years. in the morning, she remembers nothing. no strings attached at its finest). But so that she does remember him as she wakes up on a boat every morning, he documents their life together and has her watch a video so that she can pine over the wonderful memories she will never remember. But it's sweet. I swear.

9. Alfalfa singing "You Are So Beautiful" to Darla on the water: The Little Rascals. These kids can't be older than 7 and good old Alfie is crooning away to his love while in a boat. It's like the precurser to The Notebook (FORESHADOWING!) He'll do anything for her; get frogs in his pants, belch out bubbles, join a ballet show. But I mean look at her,

...who wouldnt?

8. Roberto Benigni convinces his son the Holocaust "é un gioco": La Vita é Bella. Guido Orefice and his family get sent to a concentration camp while living in Italy in World War II. So what does he do? Make a game out of it, of course. He tells his son Giosué that the whole thing is a game, and whoever can make it to the end wins. A tank. Yes, he who makes it out alive wins a military tank. The 5-year old could not be more excited. And while (spoiler alert!) poor Guido does not make it out of the camp alive, the game is the thing that saves his sons life and reunites him with his mother upon liberation. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE. Ti fa piangere. And yes, he finally gets his tank.

7. The Bradley Cooper/Eric Dane/Julia Roberts/rando lil boy love square: Valentine's Day.

Cooper: zomg Roberts ur so hawt, i bet ur guy is so lucky ur comin home 2 see him

Roberts: Tnx creepy guy next to me on airplane but I'm just a homely military woman goin' home to my hubby, leave me alone.

Eric Dane: I'm a football player havin career probs n i needz to tell yew a secret. (it's that im retiring)

Rando Lil Boy: i am a little angsty and want to tell this girl i love her. ohhh elementary school luv. hurts so good.

Writers: NAHT! BC is actually just a nice guy, Roberts is traveling 6000 just to see her son (rando lil boy) for the day, McSteamy comes out of the closet to save his relationship with BC and RLB has a crush on his teacher! SO CUTE.

6. "You're not the rule, you're the exception!" : He's Just Not That Into You. Fact: this movie changed my life. And while it was weird to see Justin Long without his buddy,

it was exactly what every girl has ever wanted when he showed up at Maggie-Gyllenhaal-look-a-like's door after spending the whole movie that she is no one special and all the rules of dude-are-douches dating apply to her and tells her that indeed he was wrong. Ah there's nothing like an admission of fault. Can he teach my dad that?

5. Two Places at Once: A Walk to Remember. Okay, Mandy Moore is dying. DY. ING. That automatically makes anything in this movie THE MOST SENTIMENTAL. theeeee most! So one thing on her Bucket List is to be two places at once. Who does she think she is, Hermione? Nonetheless, nameless-attractive-bad-boy-boyfriend of hers takes her to the town line, as her straddle it (euphemism?) so she can be in two geographical locations simultaneously. Magic!

4. Alice, Are You Blind? : Remember the Titans. Nothing makes you see what's importance to you like a near-death experience. Just ask Charlie. Or Des. (Or Locke? Time will tell.) While visiting Gary at the hospital, Julius is denied entrance because only family is allowed in the room. Gary clears up the miscommunication by telling her, "Alice, are you blind? Don't you see the family resemblance? That's my brother." Clearly he didn't realize that they didn't mean the "from anotha motha" kind.

3. The Birthday Cake: P.S. I Love You. Anything where a husband dies is sad. Anything where Gerard Butler dies is just tragic. Yet somehow even after death, he manages to be his amazing altruistic beautiful self. He arranges for a birthday cake sent to his wife after he dies with a recorded message, showing that love lasts even beyond the grave.

2. I Hate the Way You....: 10 Things I Hate About You. Let's recall:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OC0_WmotPR0

mkay? mkay. man, i really wish Heath Ledger didn't die.

ANNNND drum roll please.... number 1 issssss (no shocker here).....

1. The Kiss: The Notebook

"It wasn't over... It's still not over." oh.em.gee.

Soooo ... yep. Now that I have just fawned over their fictional lives, maybe I should figure out my own. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears.

k enough emo kelly. aaaaand scene.

Common Scents

You know that feeling you get when you wake up in the morning and have something to look forward to? In high school, I would come up with a reason to get out of bed every morning; something to keep me going that day. That stuff is important when the alarm goes off at 6 am. Now I get to sleep in so thats reason enough to wake up happy. But sometimes, I need that extra push. Today was one of those days. I had 75 minutes of hell in the form of a singing class ahead of me, it was freezing, and somehow IT IS ONLY WEDNESDAY. This week could not be going by more slowly (slowerly?). So at 9:00 this morning, as the Kane show was telling me of spin-offs of the Jersey Shore that are coming up (Boston's Wicked Summah? I'm there), I really needed this motivation.

I rolled over, entangling myself even more in my blanket (fun fact: i have not slept with a sheet this entire semester. i don't like sheets. the ones that go over you. i like sleeping on sheets. not on bare mattresses. alas, i digress) which was not helpful because then i really didnt want to leave my deep sea of blankets. But then I thought of it--the one thing that would make this morning not so bad. So I schlepped (I hang out with too many Jews) myself out of bed, turned my swag on, looked in the mirror, said whats up, and finally it was time. New deodorant. It's like getting a new air freshener for your car; you've gotten so used to the old scent that you don't notice it and then when that new dolphin or christmas tree or whatever your preferred shape is shows up, it's a whole new driving experience. That's how I felt today. A whole new walking experience. It was like I had a secret that no one else knew and just kept a coy little smile on my face all day. Yeah, it was a good day.

Moral of the day, folks: Don't take yourself too seriously. It's more fun this way.

Counting Sheep

It is 11:03 pm. I only want to go to bed. There are still 31 minutes on my dryer cycle. Therefore, I shall make a list of all the things I am thinking about right now.

1. In the Dashboard Confessional song "Vindicated," he says: so turn up the corners of your lips, part them and feel my finger tips.

....what lips is he talking about here? I'm confused as to why he is putting his fingers in someone's mouth. But I don't want to think about anything else. Man I really wish I hadn't thought of that.

2. I have been living in a dark world for 5 days now. No, this is not some emo metaphor. The lights in my room do not work. It is literally...dark. Well, for the many hours when the sun is out, it is okay. But then nightfall comes aaaand... I'm like a bear in a cave. We sent in to get them fixed sometime earlier last week and a very large man showed up promptly at our door. Despite the fact that I'm pretty sure he said "youre under arrest" when he knocked on the door, he assessed the issue and went to get some back-up...or tools...or something.... the world may never know because then he never returned.... sooo here we are. still in the dark.

3. I really wish Michael Bublé would work on his song openings. As much as I love him, some of those songs are just ridiculous. The intro to "Dream of You" belongs on Sesame Street and the beginning to "Coming Home" sounds like an N*Sync Christmas special. And why does he have a chorus line yelling to him observations to start off "I've Got the World on a String?" i just dont understandddd. stop it.

4. 12 more minutes.

5. I got nothin'. Although the coat of nail polish I just put on looks extra glossy. It'll be gone by the morning. damn sheet imprints.

6. DONE. (yes, it took me over 12 minutes to get from number 4 to here. i was thinking very hard.) aaaaaand goodnight.

and good luck.

Remote Controlled

A few weeks ago, I had the greatest idea. Now, when I say "greatest idea," I'm not going by the Alexander-Graham-Bell-inventing-the-telegraph or Lincoln-freeing-the-slaves kind of great idea. Its more of a, this-seems-to-solve-my-current-predicament-or-entertain-a-fun-idea-for-now kinda thing. Past "greatest ideas" i've had?

Having a scheduled once a week Skype date with my best friend because I felt I never got to talk to her. (It never happened; we decided to just pick up our phones more often.)

Take my roommate home for Easter so she could meet my friends. (She decided she'd rather stay in DC).

Put up motivational quotes all over my room to get me pumped up for life. (I guess I got too lazy... ironic.)

You get the idea. The ideas are not only not so great, but also usually disappointing fails. So this time, the idea was that Facebook should make a setting where you put in a time limit, and you can't log in for that amount of time. For purposes of doing homework, having a life, whatever it may be. Now I don't know why Facebook (I speak about it as if it is an actual entity capable of making anything) would want to create something that kept people OFF their website, but at the time, it was a great idea. AGAIN, DISAPPOINTMENT.

Apparently, someone else had this great idea before me, as something of this nature already exists. And not only for Facebook, for any website you choose. It's a downloadable program in which you input the websites that you wish to stay off of and an amount of time, and until that time runs out, your internet browser is unable to reach those sites. Doesn't matter if you turn your computer off, shut down the browser, anything. You're not getting on. And here's the kicker--it's called Self Control.

Again, the irony. Clearly if someone is using this program (as I did all afternoon, in an attempt to complete my research paper... in Spanish), they have no self control. Because clearly they cannot just stay away, they need a computer to make it physically impossible. But hey, someone (or thing) has to do it, right? Why not get computers to do everything for us? Sounds like someone pulled a Jonas Brothers and jumped to the year 3000. now all we need is to live underwater. and a great-great-great granddaughter. to be doing fine. okay. too far.

*authors note: please excuse the excessive use of parentheses in this post. i don't know whats gotten into me.

a SafeHaven

I walked through the gates of heaven today. Well, it was more of an automatic door. And it led to Safeway....a grocery store. But I imagine the feeling was similar.

Last semester I did my shopping at Whole Foods, which I now realize is sort of like the Nordstrom of food stores. There is a lot of high end stuff that I know should be appealing but I just can't really imagine myself buying. Where was the Kohl's I was used to? And end up spending $98.49....on each item. But today I ventured down Davenport Avenue and found the diamond in the rough that I had only heard rumors of... Safeway. Finally there were things I was used to, and was comfortable with! I was able to buy my plain old jeans and t-shirts (and by that i mean Arizona Iced Tea and non-organic fruits...remember the clothing store analogy?...forget about it.)

And to top it all off, even the cashiers and patrons were hometown friendly! The lovely 7-month pregnant woman who rang me up asked about approximately 12 different card or coupons I might have that would save me money, until she found one. Apparently they understand the whole "poor college kid" thing, and i saved 30% just for going to school here! How very sympathetic of them. But when the girl behind me in line asked if I was a dancer because of the way my feet were placed in 3rd position, I simply smiled and politely shook my head... I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was actually just crossing my legs because I really had to pee.

Classy, right? Good thing I got out of Whole Foods.

Lock 'er up! and other life adventures

Hey folks! It's been a while since I've been able to vent my feelings towards the world so prepare yourselves.

1. "Snowpocalypse." ...really, DC? It's a couple feet of snow. The whole New England region and northern half of the country has been dealing with this kind of "emergency" for....ever. Buy yourselves a couple of plows and some government officials with balls to go out with a coat on and get on with it. Seeing as no changes were made to any academic schedule, this little stunt you pulled cost those paying for college a good chunk of change. Those are the most expensive movies and pizza pies I've ever seen. And yes, my father is still waiting for his refund check.

2. It's Big/Little Week here on the metaphoric Greek Row of AU... well at least the AEPhi house, and ... wow. This whole getting showered in gifts thing is emotionally exhausting. From the suspense to the excitement to the cleaning, I'm starting to be glad Christmas only comes once a year. Each girl in the sorority gets a "Big Sister" --a mentor/mom type. For the first week, the "Big" 's identity is a secret, and they sneak into their "little"s room to decorate, leaving clues... which are usually false and meant to lead the little away from the right track and therefore are to be disregarded.

It's hard to understand if you aren't a part of it, but from the side of the Little, it is somewhat like an 8th grade relationship. You have this bond with someone, but you don't really know who they are, yet you tell them you love them anyway. And to think I thought that ended with Connor Finnegan!

3. Why do women feel the need to walk around locker rooms shirtless? Men, I could see. I wouldn't mind being a fly on that wall, but really, ladies? I don't want your post-menopausal mammary glands defeating my serotonin high. Keep them in your pokeballs, jiggly puff.

Now Jill, I'm sorry running isn't your thing, and just like you, I prefer swimming too. And yes, I'm impressed of your friend planning to run a half marathon too! But strangely enough, the changes in your dietary habits as you turn the page from your 40's to your 50's don't interest me so much while I'm taking a shower. I'm just trying to get the chlorine out of there and go to class. Thank you, I suppose, for making this so much of a quicker process.

That covers the main bases for the past 3 months... oh, except for one small detail, although perhaps the most important. In the time I have been gone, I have become (not so) newly single... so make your move. *Self-googlers need not apply.