rat candy

It has been a month since I last posted anything.  Sorry to those who sit and anxiously wait for me to write another witty something, I have let you down. 

During finals, the good folks at Pro Copies, located inside Baxter Street Bookstore, keep a large selection of candy for us to eat because we're all stressed out and tired and nothing beats that like mini kit kats.  I should also mention that Roy keeps the extra candy in a paper box under the counter (like we don't know it is there).  I should also also mention that we have a mouse problem at BSBS.  That's right, friends, I work in  a place infested with rodents.  But I digress. 

One day, Chelsea announced to me that the mouse(mice?) had infiltrated the candy box.  She had put the box in the refrigerator to prevent further disturbance, but showed me the cardboard crumbs it had left as it chewed through the box lid to swim in chocolate.  She then presented me with a moral (health?) dilemma.  The candy in the box was undisturbed.  No empty wrappers, no chewing, no mouse droppings, nothing.  Other than the lid being obviously chewed through, there were no signs that a mouse had scrambled through all that delicious candy.  Roy was going to throw it away, and refused to put the candy out for people to eat (Roy has this idea that mice are CONSTANTLY urinating and that all the candy was covered in mouse pee).  Chelsea begged him not to throw it away, but to leave it in the fridge, as she would most definitely eat the candy.  

At this point, I asked myself, "Am I going to stoop so low as to eat candy that a mouse had walked all over?  Candy that a mouse had obviously refused?  What should I do?"

And I did what any normal, 23 year old college student would do.

I picked out all the good stuff and kept it in a large jar on my desk.  I was never hungry studying.  Never.

I was really stressed out and tired.

I think there are bowls in the party packs

As I have blogged before ( i really hate the verb "blog", btw), I work in a textbook store that so fortunately also sells Georgia CRAP.  Therefore, during football season, given our Georgia CRAP and close proximity to the stadium, we are hella busy.  We also rent out our parking lot so people can tailgate.  There is a 40 year waiting list for the parking spaces.  I am so not kidding.  

Today was the last home game of the season, against Georgia Tech.  We lost, which really isn't important to me.  However, it was a very interesting day, as far as football Saturdays go.  The last home game that I worked, I was sexually harassed, far beyond the usual casual caress of Old Man #3, which I will not go into, but because of that, I almost refused to work today.  As I am hella broke, I thought I would take a chance.  I went to work with dirty hair and a pieced together red and black outfit.  As I mentioned, our parking lot is full of people, eating and drinking, with people coming and going, stopping by on their way to the game.  Let me rephrase that-by "people", I meant to say "upper class white people in large trucks or SUVs".  If you live here or have ever been to Baxter Street, you'll know that one section of the housing project is right across the street from the campus, therefore, we see a lot of different people.  I'm trying to type this without sounding really rude or racist, because it makes me really sad that we have this tradition of driving excessively large vehicles to a small town, eating and drinking to excess, paying God knows how much to watch young men beat the hell out of each other and completely ignoring the poorest of the poor as you walk past their shoddy homes.  That being said, I see a lot of destitute people, but on game days, most of the destitute people I see are Caucasian, dressed in some sort of red and black costume, with a too high credit limit, buying Georgia CRAP instead of better nutrition for their destitute children.  Today was different.  Today was Brian.

Brian walked into the bookstore around 9:45am.  He stood in line to use the restroom and upon exiting the restroom, strolled over to Old Man #3, put his arm around him and said "Go dawgs" (which I said Old Man #3 totally deserved for all the times he has touched us, but I digress).  Brian is a young, black male, wearing simple but nice clothing and carrying some sort of briefcase.  Brian is OBVIOUSLY HIGHLY INTOXICATED.  Brian exits the bookstore and makes his way to one of our regular tailgating families.  We then see him get a beer, a hotdog, and then put his arm around their young daughter.  Uhh..what?  Brian stays with that family for about 30 minutes, and then we think we see him leave.  Charles and I discussed what life would be like if it were just one big tailgate.  Where people didn't see race or class, but just shared their hotdogs and beer with everyone.  Le sigh.  

Then, Brian re-emerges in the parking lot, this time at the tailgate of some d-bags with a super thick credit card (no really, it is thicker than a regular card.  i think he said it is made of titanium.  douchebag).  D-bag comes into the store and asks Eric to make Brian leave.  So Eric talks to him, blah blah and he eventually leaves.  Pretty smart way to get free beer and food.

Charles also made an alarming observation-Georgia Tech fans seemed so much nicer than Georgia fans.  We theorized that it was because their school is not known for their football, but their intelligence (oh that every college were like that...funny, huh?), so this wasn't a huge deal for them.  Georgia fans, however, football is really all they have going for them.  that and their job at their daddy's law firm.  And their sculpted facial hair.  D-bags.  

I thought that I really hated Georgia football culture before today, but today really sealed it.  And I'll tell you why.  A man came in and paid for $10 worth of stuff with a $100 bill, because he wanted the change for later.  I gave him a $50 bill and two 20s and some change.  He emphatically told me that he could not accept the 50.  I assumed he was joking.  I tried again to give him his change.  He again refused, saying, "you can't give that to someone in the South!  Oh no, especially not before a football game.  do you know who is on the 50???  Oh no, I cannot have a $50 bill".

Seriously?

In case you're wondering, U.S. Grant is on the $50 bill.  

You know, the UNION GENERAL who helped the "North" to win the Civil War.  

THOSE DAMN YANKEES.  

I was horrified at his refusal, and logic.  I hate this town.  

I know this post has been super negative, but I have just been given multiple examples of poor behavior from the people I'm supposed to identify with.  No, thank you.

Some good did come of today.  I finished reading The Pelican Brief, and I rented and watched it.  So good, but must check closets for assassins before bed.  

Also, Bill Bacon, who I have lusted after since August, put his phone number in my phone today at work.  Does that mean something?  Can I bootycall Bill Bacon?

obsession

I tend to obsess over things in general;  however, there are two things that I cannot seem to stop obsessing over and those two things are lip product and office supplies, specifically lip BALM and pens.  I cannot seem to stop purchasing them.  I haven't bought any sort of lip related item since October, which I am very proud of.  Pens, on the other hand, I have not been able to drop so easily.  I keep finding new kinds that I like!  And since my place of work sells a VARIETY of pens, they are constantly staring me down, pleading with me, "Please, write with us!"  So I do.  

I am composing this because yesterday, something wonderful happened.  Along with trying new pens and lip balms, I also love to use stuff up.  I love emptying a bottle of lotion or wearing down an eraser.  But since I have so many lip balms and pens, it makes me especially happy to get rid of a pen or tube of chapstick.  YESTERDAY, I threw away THREE PENS!  It was amazing.  And they were all dead, not just like I got tired of them, I had used all the ink they had to offer me. Man it was a good day.    

a few thoughts

I saw a penny on the ground today.  It was on tails.  I couldn't remember if it was lucky to pick up a penny heads side up or penny side up. Then I thought...are there people out there who really only pick up lucky pennies?  Or people that rely on happening upon a lucky penny for their life to change?  Either way, its still money.  I did not pick it up. 

I decided today that I want to marry a man with an interesting face.  There are plenty of nice looking, ordinary people who will in turn grow old and be ordinary looking old people.  I want to marry a man who will make an interesting looking old man.  I prefer interesting to ordinary.

What is it about birthdays that make people want to spend money on you?  Don't get me wrong, I am all for people buying me things.  I guess it is a way to show you that they are happy that you were born.  

I've had a birthday, shout hooray

Well kids, today is my 23rd birthday.  Ho ventitre anni.  Last year, I went to Charleston for my birthday, and as I drove back, I listened to and contemplated Tom Waits' song " I Don't Wanna Grow Up", but this year, as I think about my future, I do really want to grow up.  I know that I have a lot of good ahead in the next few years and I look forward to those things.  A year from now, I will be one month away from graduating college.  I will be (close to ) fluent in Italian.  I hope to, in the next year, become more friendly and less weird about developing new relationships  My puppy will be 2 years old.  I think, what have I done in the last 23 years?  And while there is nothing HUGE and CATASTROPHIC that I have done, there are a few things I can think of.  I've seen countless beautiful things and I know countless beautiful people.  I have spent 23 years with the most incredible, talented, creative, intelligent, loving and loyal family, individuals that I feel honored to know and love.  I have learned so many fascinating things about the world I live in, which only makes me want to learn more.  I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which has brought me more joy and comfort than I can express.  I took part in the conversion of a young woman who went on to serve a mission, who in turn took part in the conversion of many others.  I have attempted to love those around me and make them smile.  While I recognize that I have done many things in the past 23 years, I still have lots more to do.  CONTINENTS to see.  People to love.  Beauty to admire.  Books to read.  Children to read to.  Someone today said that 23 is not a significant year; I disagree.  Every year is a significant year.  Every year, every day that one lives can be significant and I intend to make 23 memorable.  Significant.  

One year old and wiser, too. 

hating my mac right now

OMG  I JUST PICKED UP MY COMPUTER AND TOOK IT HOME AND I STILL HAVE THE SAME PROBLEM EVEN THOUGH THEY SAID THEY FIXED IT OMG I AM SO MAD.

worst week

This will be brief, as I now have to go back to my apartment to write a paper from what I can gleen from my textbook.

Tuesday. The election of a lifetime. I was anxious all day about who would win. I also was disgusted at the ignorance displayed on facebook, and so I posted the blog "decision 2008" on my facebook page. I stayed up until my man won, and then went to sleep.

Wednesday. I decided to skip my baroque class so I could go to the dmv and get a new license. I had mailed the renewal form, but since I moved and forwarded my mail, I never received it. The dmv does not forward mail. I had to go and renew it in person and i expected it to take all day. I was in and out in 15 minutes. Also, they made my take a new picture. Bleh. Sammy thought he had appendicitis today, as well. That made me upset, that my little brother was in pain and might have to have surgery. All during this, my phone was blowing up with people commenting on the facebook note about the election. People were being super rude to me in their comments (ok, some were not, some were very well thought out and not personal). I started to stress out over it, taking it very personally. I went to my gender and feminism class, ready to take notes and noticed that my computer was completely dead, even though it had been plugged in all night and all day. I ended up taking notes in my planner. I ran home between class and work to charge my computer. I went to work, still stressing about Sam and facebook, and then went home to do some work. My computer would not turn on. At all. I almost cried. I took it to peachmac, where I waited for about 20 minutes for a man with the apple logo tattooed on his arm to help me. I almost cried when they told me they would have to keep it for a few days. Like, it took all my energy to not sob at the counter. I got in my car and cried all the way home. I got very little studying done for my 18th century test tomorrow.

Thursday. I went to the slc before Italian to check on some things. I checked my bank account. My rent check had gone through before I expected, which over drafted my account. There were also 4 other transactions that went through after that, which just continued to over draft my account. Cry cry cry. Five $35 fees. There goes my rent money for December. My test was not that bad, but I still should have studied a lot more. I went to work and attempted to study for my italian test which is tomorrow. After work I had to go to the slc (ugh) to do the audio exercises we had to turn in. I really miss my computer.

Friday. Friday was not actually that bad. My test was kind of embarrassing as I did very poorly on it, I think. I realized that I have a baroque paper due on Monday, and I may not have a computer. I did go to Atlanta and spent the night. I went to bed at 4:30am.

Saturday. Not a bad day. Stayed in Atlanta until around 3 and then came home. Went straight to Dad's to celebrate my birthday and then went home, painted my nails and was in bed by 11.

Sunday. Today, also not bad. Church was good. I was released from my fave calling of relief society teacher and immediately called as a member of the activities committee. I went to Mom's right after church to celebrate with her. I didn't get back to Athens until close to 5:30 and I need to write the baroque paper. Its just a comparison essay, so it should not be difficult. I looked at the slide choices and realized that half of my notes are on my computer. Which is not with me. So now, I have to go home, write a paper based on information from the book ( I pray it is there) and then I guess come back at like 7 am and type it. I am so not happy right now.

My birthday is Tuesday. Things better be looking up by then.

decision 2008

As many of you know, I voted for Barack Obama.  I believe he can direct this country out of the obscurity that it has been driven in to.  

I have been amazed at the amount of HATE toward Obama I have seen on Facebook.  People use words like evil, communist, etc.  I do not understand how people can be so rude and immature.  I publicly announced my support of Obama via my facebook status and immediately got responses containing so much negativity, saying I was dumb, that they were disappointed in me, among other things.  I can understand not agreeing with someone politically; but presenting your opinion in such an immature way is unbelievable to me.  Also, I have many liberal friends on the facebook and I have seen very few super negative things about McCain on their statuses, links, pages, etc.  I know that it is out there, and I have made one or two "zingers" about Sarah Palin myself, but there seems to be a maturity (knowledge?) gap between my liberal friends and my conservative friends.  

I guess what I'm trying to get at is I just wish people could be a little kinder in their giving of opinions, especially about something like this.  I have done my research, I know what I voted for, and I kind of doubt that a lot of the people telling me that I am dumb and/or voting for a communist have done theirs'.  I also kind of think that if they were better informed, they would not behave  the way they do.  

Or they would vote democrat.

Obama 2008

morgan made me do it

8 Favorite TV Shows

1 The Office

2 Bones

3 House

4 Big Bang Theory

5 How I Met Your Mother

6 Old Christine

7 CSI

8 What Not to Wear

8 Things I Did Yesterday

1 Worked Out

2 Washed my hair

3 Had lunch with family

4 Voted

5 Drove to Clemson

6 Watched a mime change a flat tire

7 Wore a beret

8 Got $14 wayfarer knock-offs

8 Things I Look Forward to

1 My birthday

2 A  new president

3 Graduating

4 Christmas

5 Thanksgiving

6 Reading by the fireplace

7 Having a car that will not potentially explode

8 Being able to afford real wayfarers

8 Favorite Restaurants

1 The Grit

2 Clocked

3 Transmet

4 Five Star Day

5 RuSans

6 Last Resort

7 Casa Mia

8 Mexicali

8 Things on My Wishlist

1 Rayban Wayfarers

2 to own a great work of art

3 My grandpa's 1980 Mercedes sitting in his yard

4 A new down comforter

5 A more charitable attitude

6 the ability to speak and understand Italian

7 A J Crew Wedding

8 A man to participate in said J Crew wedding

an evening with Matt Crunk, Esquire

I have decided to try an experiment, where I ask on a date each of the single men at my branch.  While I am not particularly interested in pursuing a relationship with any of them, I feel that the social practice of interacting with someone of the male gender would be really good for me so that when I do meet someone I would like to date I don't end up acting like a complete buffoon in their presence.  

My focus is on pre-med and pre-law.  That really is a joke, but it seems that all of the men I have dated have been one of the two.  Plus, if they are pre-something, it probably means that they are really smart, which I like.  I began by asking out one Michael Davis who is a law student here at UGA.  I actually asked him out a long time ago, before this experiment, but we never actually went out.  I decided that he would be the first of the men I went out with, since we had previously decided that we could go on a date.  

Apparently, asking someone on a date in June and never going on an actual date with them makes them angry.  Michael Davis does not return my phone calls, then does not offer an explanation beyond "Hello" when I see him at church, and does not interact with me even when I am at his apartment watching a movie with his roommate.  That knocks one guy off the list.  It's ok, he blends things in his room.

Next up, Matt Crunk.  Matt is a first year law student at UGA.  I met him in September and decided that I did not want to date him after hearing that he is a staunch conservative.  However, after formulating my experiment, I thought he would make a great candidate.

Last Sunday, I planned to ask him out.  Much like I planned to ask him out the Monday before and choked when he said hello.  Sunday, I managed not to even speak to him, even when he was standing next to me.  Idiot.  I got his phone number from my darling friend Josh (also a staunch conservative but great advocate of me speaking to men) and called him that afternoon. I asked if he would like to have dinner with me on Saturday (today).  He said that he could not, but that he would love to go out sometime this week, would I be at family home evening, could we talk then.  Absolutely.

Wait a minute.  

Did I just make an appointment to make a date?

As I was dolling myself up for my fhe appointment with Matt Crunk, he called to tell me that he would not be a fhe, but he was planning out his schedule for the week and would try to work me one night before Friday.  He would schedule everything and call me tomorrow.  

I am now waiting to be penciled into a man's schedule.  

He did call Tuesday to let me know that Thursday would be great, could we meet at the institute at 7pm.  Sure.  

When I realized I had no idea what we would be doing, I called him back on Wednesday to ask if I needed to plan something.  He told me that we could go get dinner quickly, as I would have just gotten off work and was sure to be hungry, but he had allotted only an hour to an hour and a half for dinner, so it had to be somewhere kind of fast.  

This just keeps getting better.

Thursday came and we went to Willie's, which is a burrito place. I told him that I had never eaten a burrito and that he could not watch me eat as it would end up all over me. He laughed and said that is why he picked it, I guess so he could watch as I awkwardly pulled peppers out of my mouth and licked beans off my hand, which is what happened.  

I may have made this sound like something awful and it totally was not.  I had a great time with Mr. Crunk.  He was very easy to talk to and super nice and wonderfully clever.  As we parted ways so he could study property law, he told me he had a great big project to work on for the rest of the semester.  So I said, "uhhh...guess I'll see you in December."  To which he said, 

"Oh, you'll see me before then."

Experiment One: Success.  

man, I feel like a woman

In my gender and feminism in art history class, we have been discussing the female as spectator and how that is problematic and not theorized etc etc.  We had just watched two soda commercials, one diet coke commercial from the early 90s where an office full of women ogle a construction worker together, and then a more recent diet pepsi commercial where women (and one Carson) follow a guy with a can of diet pepsi.  I had, for an hour, thought about what it means for me, as a woman, to look at men.  

When I left class, I was walking to the bus stop, when a man in some low slung running shorts and ZERO shirt ran by.  That was nice.  THEN, a whole slew of topless men ran by.  I all but stopped and watched them run by with my mouth hanging open.  

I spectated, all right.  With no problem at all.  

breaking news on breakouts

I apologize that I have not really posted anything of substance lately, and this is no exemption.  It is really kind of shallow and/or vain, but it is highly important to me.  

I have had really really bad skin since I was like 13.  Gross acne, mostly all along my chin.  Which means I have been desperately trying for the last ten years to have pretty skin.  

TA DA!

With the help of a cocktail of birth control and proactiv, I think that my skin has finally grown up.  I haven't used proactiv since...July?  I'm still on le pill, but I haven't broken out since then.  I do have some scars which I think will only go away with something like microdermabrasion, but other than that, I finally have healthy looking skin.  

Finally.  At 23.  Better late than never?  

his hair was perfect

I found my Halloween costume!!!!!!!

My friend Zach and I are going to be Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick. 

I'm Andy, he is Edie.  

I cannot wait!

I see trees of green

It is just after noon and I have just finished furiously writing a brief paper for my gender and feminism in art history test.  My room looks out into the "backyard".  I have a set of two old, wooden windows and my desk is just under them.  If I am sitting at my desk and look up, all I see are trees and little bits of sky.  Today is one of the most beautiful days I have experienced, aside from me spilling coke all down the front of my white shirt this morning and not studying for this test until just now.  It is sunny, painfully blue and fa fresco.  As I was typing my paper at my desk, surrounded by papers on Artemisia Gentileschi and Charpentier, I heard a breeze stirring the leaves of the trees and looked up.  All I could see were trees and sky.  Trees, sky, breeze, kitten, art and feminism. 

What a wonderful world.  

i go back to black

I have, in the last month, acquired two rather small black things.  One of these no one seems to care that much about, and the other has caused...let's say, quite a stir.  

They both were relatively inexpensive, under $100, one being about $25 more than the other.  One will perhaps greatly influence the way other people view me and the other could do the same, but in a slightly more amusing way.  They both impact my daily life and both make me very happy.  

The first thing I got was a tattoo of the word "timshel" across my left wrist.  It was $60 and more uncomfortable than painful.  I really like how it has turned out and am happy to have a constant reminder that everything in life is a choice and regardless of my circumstances, I still have a choice.  In other words, I have a constant reminder to go out everyday and be a total BAMF.  

The second black object that I acquired is a lil black kitten I adopted.  The adoption was $85, and she will, I'm sure, cost me much more in money, time and patience.  

Like I said, one has been more well received than the other.  While the kitten is a living creature that I have to feed, love and clean up after, AND was more expensive, no one seems to care that I am slowly amassing a menagerie of black animals.  The tattoo, on the other hand (pun intended...'cause you know, its near my hand...) might as well be black plague instead of black ink.  My father said he was disappointed in me (I'm sure he says this out of concern for how future employers will view me...I'm sure schools don't hire art professors with tattoos).  My boss has openly said he thinks all tattoos are trashy.  

I reckon then I'm a trashy cat lady.  

Not a level-headed individual well on her way to earning many, many degrees.  

Johnny Cash and Amy Winehouse will still be my friends.  

I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada

I need suggestions as to what to be for Halloween.  I have a few ideas, but I welcome ANY.  My ideas are as follows:

-The log lady from Twin Peaks

-Amelia Earheart 

-A painter (scarf, beret, moustache, etc)

-Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde, which would require a male counterpart)

Absolutely nothing trashy, please.  Unless it would be to dress as white trash.  But no sexed up nurse or devil or kitten or something lame like that.  

WHAT DO YOU THINK

KTHNX

sick

when i see people eating un-toasted bagels with nothing on them, it makes me want to vomit

le sigh...un souhait naitre dans dix huit siecle France

Since I discussed briefly my minor and how it relates to my self-image yesterday, I thought today I might discuss briefly my major and how it relates to my self-image.  I am an art history major, and this semester am taking FOUR art history classes.  One of them being 18th century European art.  

We are now studying Rococo genre paintings.  We were discussing the de Troy work Diana Resting and how it relates to Rococo, but how it is evident in the work that de Troy was still an Academie trained artist.  One of her examples were the women in the work.  Let me expound on that.  

Dr. Luxenburg said that because the women were idealized, that showed that de Troy was trained.  Let me also say that if you were to ask me to describe myself to someone or if someone else were to describe me, they might use the words fair skinned, dark hair and some form of the words "pleasantly plump", which I don't think exist in the English language without a negative connotation.  Anyway, Dr. L went on to clarify what she meant when she said that the female figures were idealized.  She said "You have to remember that when I say idealized, I mean what was seen as most attractive in France at that time.  The women are buxom, with pale, pale skin and chestnut hair.  This is what would have been seen as 'ideal' at the time of de Troy's training".  

Damn.  

I'm just a couple of centuries too late.  By American standards, I'm not classified as "ideal".  Had I lived in the place of my ancestors in the 1700s however, I would have been considered a fox.  You win again, current American beauty standards, you win again.  

warning: blog about boobs

My boobs have never been that big.  The women in my family tend to have larger breasts, so when I hit puberty and nothing really happened and I turned 18 and nothing really happened and I turned 22 and nothing really happened, I kind of gave up on the idea of being well-endowed.  And I FINALLY became ok with that. My shirts fit over them, dresses too. I often don't wear a bra because, hell, I don't really need to.  My back never hurts because of them.  Its just enough to be feminine, but not too much that I have to purchase special brassieres.  I used to believe that if a woman had large breasts, she was to be really excited about that because a large chest=attractive.  However, in my tender college years, i have learned that is rarely the case.  

I have two friends who have C or bigger boobs.  They hate them.  They both want a reduction.  They so often complain that they are too big, they get in the way, they make their back hurt, they don't fit in the bra they have on and they refuse to buy a size bigger.  My first reaction is usually "aw, my friends are uncomfortable, I'm sorry" and that thought is quickly replaced by "hheeeelllll yeah!  what do American beauty standards know about women?  NOTHING!"

As many of you know, I am a women's studies minor, so this kind of thing is HIGHLY interesting to me.  This example is a reminder to me that those whacked out expectations of women to look a certain way are probably created by men.  And yes, I'm sure there is some Freudian or tribal sort of lust for large breasts because they symbolize fertility and motherhood and whatnot, however, who the hell decided that to be considered attractive, a woman had to have large breasts?  I don't know, but if I find him, I'd like to...I don't know, slap him or something because there are lots of women who do not think they are attractive because they don't have C+ boobs.  And then there are women who think they are unattractive BECAUSE they have large breasts.  While I have (mostly) come to terms with my breast size, there are loads of other women who have not.  I wish there was one less thing women had to critique on their own bodies.  

Next stop...accepting the fact that yes, my hip bones are in fact that wide.  The whole boob thing took almost ten years, the hips may take just as long.  

if you were gay, that'd be ok

This semester, I am taking italian 1002.  There are...12 of us in the class and there are two men in the class.  And that is it.  One of the two men I assumed was gay from the beginning (which I know, you should not assume about someone's sexuality just because of the way they talk or dress or sit or whatever) and that was later confirmed via facebook.  The other man...was Andrew.  

I have thought Andrew was so super cute since day one of italian 1002.  And I found out he plays the French horn.  And he has a black cat (like me!)  I talked to him briefly a few times in class.  I decided that I would make my move and ask him to study with me for our upcoming test.  Before doing so, I looked at his facebook page (because I am creepy) to see if he had a girlfriend.  

Andrew had several gay markers, which I will not go into at the moment.  

However, I refused to believe that out of around 15,000 men at the University of Georgia, someone thought it would be funny to put only two in a class of 12 and have both of men prefer the company of men.  I did end up studying with Andrew, and another girl in our class.  I kept trying to think of a way to ask if he was gay, but how do you bring that up?  I did ask about his relationship status on facebook, which says that he is married to some girl (which I took to mean that he was actually married, or that this was one of the gay markers I mentioned).  I asked him and he said "Ohhh no, I'm not married.  And as long as I live in America, I guess I won't be."

What.  

Ok ok that should have been a definite answer.  But no, I won't rest until I hear " I AM GAY".  Later, after we had all parted ways, I sent him a text asking what he meant when he said that.  I also followed it with "Cause if you're straight, I'd like to ask you out.  And if you're gay, well, I'd like to ask you to date me, without the sex."  He thought that was pretty funny and confirmed my suspicion, that he is in fact, gay.  I then asked him to spend lots of time with me and tell me that I'm pretty and how does he feel about just cuddling with women.  He's a good sport and thinks I'm funny.  I guess I have a new (gay) boyfriend.  In fact, I just got home from his concert.  He's in the orchestra.  

Two men in a class of 12.  What are the odds.  

You're going to argue with me over a spatula?

Today is my first day in my new apartment!  I have lived in le duplex for the past four years, so this is quite a nice change, aside from the apartment smell and chintzy wallpaper.  I have found myself making several trips to the store, I keep finding things that I need, which is kind of frustrating.  I have finally gotten to the point where I like my bathroom (THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE THAT I HAVE HAD A BATHROOM ATTACHED TO MY ROOM IT IS WONDERFUL), except the tub is rotting away from the wall, so I'll need to have that fixed.  Parker has kind of dominated the downstairs, which is ok with me, for now.  

Let me speak about Parker for a moment, if I may.  Parker is my older brother and is incredibly intelligent and incredibly maniacal. He has of late bounced around from state to state, with the same job and somehow, I'm still not clear on that story, ended up living back in Athens.  Parker has been known to drink occasionally, to excess.  I have been moving my stuff in over the last few days, and he has usually not been here when I am.  Yesterday I came by and saw his motorcycle outside, but did not see him.  His bedroom door was open, but he was not there.  I found him on the couch.  My coming in must have awoken him, as I soon heard "Dammit!  I'm supposed to be at work in 10 minutes!"  What the hell.  I continued what I was doing when he came upstairs, fully dressed and asked if I could take him to work.  What the hell. 

"You can't drive?"

"Well, you see, sister, I'm still slightly intoxicated from last night."  (it is 11:45am, by the way)

If this is any indication of how the next however-long-we-live-together-here is going to be, I'm going to...probably do something bad.  Or just be really pissed off.  

Beggars can't be choosers...like...I won't let them

This is horribly old news (2006!!!), but I was thinking about it the other day and since I haven't posted anything recently, I thought it would make for a fun read.

After I had gone to Morgan and David's wedding reception and fallen on my face in the street, Kendra and I went downtown to watch Twilight.  For those of you who have not been blessed with the knowledge of what Twilight is, it is a bike race through downtown Athens. And its hella cool.  Anyway, we had gotten dinner from Five Star Day Cafe to go and were sitting on a bench on College eating and talking before the race started.  We had finished eating and what appeared to be a homeless woman rolled up to us in a wheelchair and asked us for money for food.  At Five Star Day, they give you this corn muffin with every meal.  I do not particularly like them, so I offered mine to the woman.  She told me that she was diabetic and that she did not want the offered corn muffin, but what she really wanted was something from Gyro Wrap.  

Wtf.  

The Expected Behaviors of Southern Women

This blog is dedicated to one Shelley Nicole Young.  She has the charge of teaching me how to dress like I'm from the west coast, while I am to teach her how to talk like she is from the deep south.  Maybe this here blog will further her Southern education.

As previously mentioned, I work at a bookstore that also sells Georgia STUFF.  The University of Georgia is steeped in tradition.  Some which are (somewhat) honorable, some are obnoxious and some still are just trashy.  One tradition that has plagued me most of my life is the defined role that a good (read: obedient?) Southern woman should act out.  I say "act out" because, as any good (read: damn smart?) Southern woman knows, it is simply an act.  Yes, you may think that drinking at 7am on a Saturday is fun, or that your husband's jokes are kind of funny, but for the most part, it is a role that you play; one that I have observed and almost perfected (minus the accent...oops....), mostly from my experience at the bookstore.  I will now list and try to define some of these (outrageous) expected behaviors of Suthen women.  

-You love football.  You really really love it.  Georgia is the only football team there is, and you despise any other football team in the SEC.  You say clever things like "I hate orange" and "Gators wear jean shorts".  Any football team outside of the SEC is alright.  Not as good as Georgia, but you don't have to hate them.  And you should probably know something about their quarterback.  And if a man asks you if you like football, just say yes.  The following silence or smartass remark is not worth your honesty.  

-Your husband/boyfriend/male counterpart is HILARIOUS.  Anything he says is funny.  Well, any joke he makes is funny.  Said jokes can be recognized in the way they are delivered: 

#1  The male will say something sarcastic about any one of the following:

-The weather

-Another football team

-Women

-Drinking

-Any combination of the previous

#2  The male will then look at you with a huge, stupid grin on his face.  At this point, you 

are expected to laugh.*

The laugh can be fake.  I, personally, have a pretty good fake laugh, but Chelsea's is definitely the best.  Very convincing.  The male may know that you are laughing only to appease him, but that is ok, as long as you make an effort.

-Regardless of how your male treats you in public, you are to smile and accept it.  You can even say something like "You know men!" or "boys will be boys...."  I usually want to slap these women, and then slap their males for treating them so poorly.  I've seen men yell at women, "playfully" hit them, talk down to them and they just smile and take it.  Like a true Southern gentlewoman.

-There is a special breed of Southern women that are mostly exempt from these rules.  The loud, brassy Southern woman.  She is loud and opinionated and vocal and will tease her husband in public.  This role must be established early in life to be accepted as an adult.  You mostly can't become this woman; you are either born this way or perfect it in your youth.  Southern men don't take too kindly to women forming opinions and just springing them on them later in life.  No, sir.  HOWEVER, no matter how brusque these women are, they are never to do anything to embarrass the male in public.  There are severe consequences for that.  

There are several other misogynistic things I could list such as not having opinions of your own, being financially dependent on your male, etc etc.  I have had to witness many of these things over my years in the heart of the Bulldawg nation and have suffered through them with a big fake smile plastered across my cute lil face.  I hope one day to stand up to this.  For now, I'll continue wearing my red and black with pride and agreeing that this is going to be one hell of a football season.  It always is.  

*There is an exception to this rule.  Depending on the public relationship you have established with your male, it can be acceptable to, following step #1, slap him across the arm while saying "You smartass, let's go".  

I like my beat down low and my top let back

I feel as though every other post I have posted has been of me complaining about my life.  I decided that I should find something daily to post about that I LOVE.  Today, as I was driving home, I was exhausted and annoyed and it was raining, etc etc.  Instead of continuing to be annoyed, whatever, I cranked up my music and rolled down my windows.  

I first listened to my acoustic version of "Hey Ya".  I LOVE belting out the "shake it shake it" part, soon followed by "HHHHEEEEEYYYYYY  YAAAAAA".  Ohhh that made me so happy.

THEN, whenever I'm driving and its raining, I like to play the song "I Make it Rain".  Which I think is HILARIOUS.  It makes me laugh so hard to turn that up so loud and laugh and sing.  

It was a great 12 minutes.  

lord, if you won't make me skinny, please make my friends fat

I have worked at the same bookstore for four years.  It is a textbook store, and we also sell Georgia paraphernalia.  When I began working there, I really enjoyed Georgia football and really the whole collegiate spirit whatever.  I also believed that people were good and nice and polite.  

Over time, I have seen many people walk in and out of our doors.  Those people have ruined my desire to associate with UGA and any sport thereof.   Or associate with people.  At all.  I used to think that the rude people I came in contact with in the bookstore only behaved that way in our bookstore.  That something about walking through our doors made them want to talk on their phone loudly, ask questions directed to no one in particular, yelling, cursing, etc etc.  I would often wonder if they always acted like that, that if they went into Blockbuster and asked "well if you don't have it, does hollywood video?  Could you call them and check?"  Then, recently, I decided, these people act like this EVERYWHERE.  They act like an ass wherever they go!  

I could go on and on about the people that I have to work for.  I cannot stand the attitude that so many college students have, the sense of entitlement that comes to them from...who knows where.  Today, I was in the downstairs part of the store all day by myself and we were SO busy.  I was doing buybacks, checking people out, answering the phone, putting out novelties.  I was so hot and tired and angry.  The title of this blog was a quote on some girl's check.  If that gives you any idea of what my day was like.  

...and I like muenster.

Today at work, I decided that I would cook dinner and dessert for myself.  I haven't really cooked at all since efy and I wanted to try something different.  I set my mind on ham and mozzarella quesadillas and an ice cream cake.  The ice cream cake was relatively simple compared to the quesadillas; at least, in buying the ingredients.  

I had never gone up to a deli counter and ordered anything.  Something feels so grown-up about going up to a counter and saying "I would like ______ of _________, please".  I got a starbucks quadruplechocolateoverloadfrappacapplatte or whatever its called and waltzed up to the deli counter at Kroger.  At this point, i feel confident and very adult.  That soon faded.  There were like five people behind the counter and no one would make eye contact with me.  I may have cleared my throat a little, in a minute effort to gain attention.  Finally, someone offered to help me.  I said, "Could I please have a pound of mozzarella and a half pound of ham?" 

Blank stare.

Clear throat again.  "A pound of mozzarella and a half pound of ham?"

Nothing. 

Deli attendant: "You want what and ham?" 

Really?  Mozzarella?

 "Mozzarella?"

 At this point, there are TWO imbeciles helping me, and neither of them seem to understand Italian.  The two of them look around the cheeses and the lady said something to the effect of "We do not have mozzarella.  Will this do?"  She held up some pepper jack bizznaz.  "NO!  That is not even in the same cheese family as mozzarella!"  I screamed in my head.  I smiled politely and said, "No, thank you.  I'll just have the ham, please".  The guy then chuckled and and said, "Yeah, I don't know much about mozzarella.  Only time I eat that is when I order those fried cheese sticks at restaurants".  

Idiot.   

Not Mai Thai

I have prided myself for having what I call an iron constitution.  I can pretty much eat whatever I want, whenever I want and not get sick.  Heck, I could probably go on one of those "hey eat this and we'll pay you" shows.  Tonight, however, I met my match: Thai Spoon.  

Today is Chelsea's birthday, so we all went out to dinner. We had planned for weeks to go to Mama's Boy.  We arrived shortly after 6pm only to find that they close at 2:30pm.  Of course.  We then went to Thai Spoon instead.  I LOVE thai food.  I first had it in Provo, Utah with Utah Martin That Could Tolerate Me.  It was so good.  Not only was I having a delicious meal with some good friends, I was back in downtown Athens.  We sat by a window so I could people watch as we ate.  My food was so good and I got to try everyone else's and everything was DELICIOUS.

Cut to 9pm. 

Sickness.  

So....to recap the past 22 years of my life:

Gumbo?  Yes

Shrimp and grits?  Yes

Jambalaya?  Yes

Big Tim's BBQ?  Yes

Pad Se Ew?  No.  HELL no.  

Bleh.

I hate TV

When my father moved back into my (tiny) duplex, he had the cable turned back on.  Why my father has moved back into my house is a brilliant story in and of itself.  I'll get to that another time.  I had gone without television for a little over a year and I learned to love it.  I even learned to love saying "I don't have cable" when people would ask me if I had seen a new show or commercial.  While I was doing efy, Dad moved back in and turned the cable back on.  I didn't think much of it, that I wouldn't even really watch it.  I got back to my house and didn't really watch anything Sunday, almost as if I had forgotten how to use a television.  Then Monday rolled around.  I turned it on around 10am and I have no idea how long I watched TV.  It was embarrassing.  Me wasting all that time is only one reason I don't like TV.  As I was watching different shows and lots of commercials, I realized that one reason people are so messed up is because they watch television.  Of course given my women's studies background, I noticed that there is a lot on TV directed at women.  It makes me kind of sick.  I can't wait until I go back to work and school so I'm gone all day.  Maybe then I can tear myself away.  Go read a book.  

welcome welcome

I told Shelley that I would start a blog.  So I am.  I am leaving for Danielsville soon, to go to fhe at mio madre's house.  I'll write more later.  Promise.