Big butts

So on a less serious note...I remembered a good story from Thanksgiving break that I forgot to tell.

My mom wants to put this picture of a naked flying lady with a bicycle on my wall at home. It's actually a nice picture, French and stuff. Anyway, she told my dad to buy the picture, and he did, but it was too small, so she told him to get a bigger one. Just to be a pain in the neck, he bought a big one. A REALLY big one. So when I got home last week, I was greeted by a 4 foot by 6 foot painting featuring a rather prominent giant naked butt. Framed.

I've also been invited to a drag ball. This school is so perfectly ridiculous. Nowhere else would I read 74 pages on Hindu death rites in the same day that I read about fish sex changes and get invited to a drag ball. But speaking of reading, I think my eyes are getting worse. I read 100 pages a day on average!!! And the other day I couldn't even see past 5 feet with my glasses on!

We now have a Christmas tree in our room. Just guess how much it cost!!! My roommate was so proud of herself. It's actually very nice, though it managed to miraculously displace my stuff from its shelf.

I'm discovering that it's possible to be too aware.

Basically to be as sustainable as I'd like to be, I'd have to live in a tent, ride a bike, and subsistence farm a very small patch of land. Maybe I could have a dog. But only if it ate homegrown carrots.

"Understanding that welfare for human beings lies only in their unity, and that unity cannot be attained by violence. Unity can only be reached when each person, not thinking about unity, thinks only about fulfilling the laws of life. Only this supreme law of love, alike for all humans, unifies humanity." --Tolstoy

But what is the cost of sacrifice?

And I'll talk about that more later when I finish reading 9 billion pages.

You know you're out of the swimming groove when...6x100 on 1:25 is a workout.

And my thighs touched for the first time ever while kicking. It was kind of weird. That's what running does.

More nightmares and more bad sleep.

Holy mackerel.

Peace out, Environmental History. I think Dr. Loomis must love me.

Back to the old getting my secondary education concept....

It's funny how when I left on Tuesday, I got out of here at precisely the time I planned, but when I tried to leave today, I was 45 minutes later than the already late time my mom convinced me to leave at. Silly family. After a whole lot of carrying on about laundry and tire inflation, I finally got on the road, in the pouring, cold rain. I was feeling pretty good, finally got the ipod working, totally going the right way...Had to pee so bad for about 60 miles and stopped in Brenham at a janky looking Exxon. I rushed through the door but stopped still when I was faced with 15 truckers and farmers in a dark bar, all turned to look at me. I just frantically looked around and dashed to the back of the store without a word, busting through the bathroom door. It was a rather nice bathroom, actually, with license plates all over the wall and pictures of cow slaughtering houses. (It's Texas, what can I say...) Hoping not to seem so frantic but also remain unseen, I sideled through the back of the store to pick up some snacks, which were alarmingly cheap, I must note...and ran out the door.

Hit the road again and was doing well...until I missed the dang exit in the same place as last time and had to come screeching to a halt in a vet's parking lot with all my stuff flying around the car. Of course when I turned around I managed to get stuck behind a procession of 3 mobile homes being moved and a long line of agitated college students (denoted by stickers on our cars). Eventually I figured things out and even saw some sunshine. Almost thought I got lost another time but it was a false alarm. Thennnn I got stuck behind an RV for the last 20 miles on what would have been gloriously open road. Foiled again!

I did eventually get to school and froze as I tried to get all my crap inside. Unpacking took over an hour thanks to my mom's laundry packing scheme, so my roommate and I watched Hairspray while I sorted. Which is an alarmingly good movie. Dancing and singing out the door in my furry crocs, I forged through the cold night to eat some mystery morsels for dinner (since lunch had consisted of crackers and iced tea). Upon leaving the salad bar, I ran into none other than....

*Dun dun DUNNNHHHHH*

The ex. In an elf hat. We had pleasant, friendly conversation, mostly about how sad the cafeteria makes us, and I offered to go find a table for him and our friend and me, but....then just as he started rattling off his excuse about going to eat in his friend's apartment, I noticed the styrofoam take out box in his hand and realized I would be eating another lonely dinner. Turned quickly on my heel with a short good bye. Ended up eating "stir fry" then peanut butter with a spoon all alone in a big booth. (Yes, with a spoon, plain.) My Tracey Turnblad-induced euphoria crashed down with me into the cushy plastic seat.

Why is no one back yet???

Dunno what I'd do without Jack though. I've realized how truly awesome my high school friends are.

Thanksgiving things

#1 comment made during my week at home: "Oh my gosh, your butt has gotten so much bigger!"

Actually, it's supposed to be a compliment. Even my grandpa said so. Even my swim coach, who always eats Thanksgiving dinner with us, had to make a really obnoxious comment about it. I don't think I've ever had a normal experience with him around anyway.

I only managed to get lost twice on my way home. 36 is a tricky exit in Brenham...So I took the "scenic route" home. I ended up taking the Texas Independence Trail through nowhereseville til I got to Belleville and found 36 again, which is actually the capital of nowhersevilleland. But I made it. I also discovered that there are lots of nice people at gas stations and Goodyears. I just walked in and asked how to go places, and people were super helpful. (The ones that spoke English anyway...Me: Do you sell maps? Lady: Uhh map? No speak English. Me: I don't speak Spanish. Lady #2: Well, you're even then!) First big trip by myself wahoo!

This week reminded me of how insane my family is. Whiney but hilarious. I've also realized that I eat a lot healthier at school than I thought. Preeeetty sure I'm subsisting on beans and rice, spinach, soy milk, and bananas. There is no chocolate to be found at home though for the most part....quite unfortunate. We played Wii last night for a long time. I KO-ed everyone-- sisters, mom, grandma, grandpa-- and only lost to my dad in the last round on a judge's decision. That practically doesn't even count, so basically I won. My arms were so sore! Wii is an amazing workout. Speaking of workouts...hahahaha! Other than Turkey Trot, I blame the weather.

Speaking of Turkey Trot....I hadn't run in a week really due to being sick, so I wasn't expecting much. Ended up doing pretty well though. Caught up to this little 16 year old twit who kept glancing at me. We were chatting a bit and I said I was in college blah blah blah and she says, "I know. We talked last year." And that's when it hit me that she was the girl who came up to me last year to tell me that her dad said she was supposed to run just like me and that she could never keep up with me and that I'm basically her hero. (I love coming back to The Bubble, because weird stuff like that happens and for some reason everyone knows me?) So a year later....she latches on to me, after a while finally being nice instead of elbowing me. The whole time she was saying she was tired and just trying to keep up...and then in the last few yards, because I can't sprint worth crapola, she got me. She got me! My whole race felt good and she couldn't keep up, yet I couldn't find some umph at the end. I actually ended up getting 3rd by a few seconds, since I didn't know another girl was in my age group....Kind of a bummer, but I still got a trophy and ran a 36:00 for 5 miles. Pretty decent for recovering from the flu.

I haven't talked about this yet, but my sister just got diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. She's pretty miserable and can't really write much at school anymore. They put her on super badass medicine that seems to be working though...My mom practically threw a party last night over being able to see her knuckles. So if you pray, please pray for her. If you send good vibes, send them. If you are an activist, support the cause. The quest to free Molly's knuckles! :)

I don't want to go back to school. They sent out an email about a bad roads advisory saying not to go home if you were under it. Except I'm not. Boo on crunch time!

For some reason, as my mom and Molly and I were shopping today, we noticed that about 90 trillion guys were out. Was it official Guys Go Shopping Day? Not complaining, just saying...I bought some super awesome...FURRY CROCS! I'm in luuurve. (Will take picture when back at school.) I also got knock off Sperry Topsiders, some Grasshopper brand nonsense but tres tres comfy. And some sweaters. Since it's cold!

Oh yeah, I am not employed by Sugar Cycles, so look for me next month! Pinkgurugal, I need to talk to you about a very important matter!

Lamey McLameo

I'm about as el lamey lameo as they come. Woke up yesterday at the crack of not dawn for once!! and literally ran across campus, looking like a complete lunatic (to the squirrels, since no one gets up on campus til the crack of afternoon anyway). I made sure to walk very carefully over the evil gravelly train track spot this time and then tried to figure out how to use the acorn shaped door jingley thing on the Mr. and Mrs. Babysitting Clients at White House (henceforth known as BCWH) door. I guess plans changed, because it was just Mr. BCWH who needed to work and his wife was in Florida...and the baby was asleep. So it was just me and a precocious 3 year old boy sword fighting and eating grapes. The baby eventually woke up and snotted all over me for a while, but it was an otherwise thoroughly enjoyable morning/ $20.

The rest of the afternoon slipped away as I talked to Ben about some financial issues (stupid internet not trustworthy to document that life hurdle) and then did a super dumb workout at the gym. Venturing out into the dark, rainy night I went to babysitting at the purple house. I was greeted at the door by a quite naked 6 year old autistic boy, his equally naked 3 year old sister, and their barely robed mother. That job was pretty much spent raiding the pantry, watching princess movies, and chasing the boy around making sure he kept his pullups on. The girl was determined to convince me that she was supposed to have Coke, popsicles, and peanut butter cups and was going to have her way if it took a screaming fit. Toooo bad for her! Both kids were actually relatively easy to get to bed, which allowed for a good amount of time for me to do homework while jumping at old house creaky noises. A note on the house: it is so old, there is only 1 bathroom and no shower that I could see. The best part about the whole night was the quite pleasant, probably tipsy, return of the parents with a nice wad of cash-- $75!!!

$95 in one day. That is what I make in 2 weeks at school. My new official backup plan is to be a professional babysitter.

I ended my day of being an independent, moneymakin woman by...doing more homework. I'm the only person I know who was reading a book on environmental justice litigation at midnight on a Saturday (in bed at least).

This morning I woke up and ran with PiC for a little bit, which felt great until a few hours later, after brunch with unexpected awkward guests, when I suddenly could barely move my body. I was so physically weak and exhausted. I can't remember ever feeling that thoroughly unable to move myself to do the simplest things. After a full night of sleep and a light workout, even. After a week, the flu doesn't seem to have left me.

I'm pretty proud of myself, though, because I managed to push through that feeling to wash the dishes, go to work, read my whole book and anthro articles, and write 1/3 of my huge final paper. Excellent work, self.

Oh yes, I almost forgot...I've been having very vivid dreams lately. The other night I dreamt that people were turning into zombies, and a very blue eyed one named Wendy informed me that if I lost the game, I'd die. The game had something to do with Christianity, but I'm not sure what exactly. Last night I actually had a nightmare like I used to have all the time in elementary school about loved ones dying. It started out alright, just hanging out with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend...then for some reason my dad was intent on breaking the sound barrier in a car. Whatever the exact details were on the rest of it, I just know it was a terrible dream and I frantically tried to get out of it. I almost couldn't sleep the rest of the night, but I guess my power over my mind is better than I give it credit for, because I'm always able to control leaving a dream right when the really bad part is about to happen. My mom thinks my allergy medicine is messing with my dreams, but I don't know. I think some of it makes sense with what my brain has to work out.

Jiminy cricket, my computer makes terrible noises when running a CD....The entire thing is rumbling, and I think that's probably a bad thing. Why me, God? Why do electronics hate me?

I swear swear swear that I will write days 3 and 4 of Power Shift very soon, over the break.

Adventures with Excitable Red Sweater Boy

As I was walking back from a perfunctory violin practicing session, a very excited blonde guy in a red sweater leapt at me, saying, "Do you know where the new auditorium is? I'm on a tour here and want to see it!" (Except imagine that all as 1 word.) I about-faced and took him back through the building, all the while listening to his chatter about being a sophomore at St. Ed's, wanting a change of scenery, how SU looked like New York (??), how he was in business classes, asking me tons of questions. He had that business guy affectation of using your name over and over again. "So, Ursula," *smooth grin* "I think that's a violin, judging by the case, or a small guitar hahahah." "Well, thanks, Ursula, I know you're busy." Etc.

I finally managed to extract myself from him while he sprinted off to look at the metal work exhibit (inciting oohs and exclamations of beauty from him) and further puruse the building that I'm not entirely sure he actually would have a purpose in. He doesn't actually do anything related to fine arts, at least as far as I could extract from him.

But anyway, other than being holed up in the library for hours, attempting to work on the enormous research paper I've put off all semester (not at all by my volition but rather by the constraints of all 500 bil hours of other hw that were more urgent), tonight was Thanksgiving dinner night in the cafeteria. Best pecan pie. Ever. I can't WAIT for next Tuesday.

Ethnography cont

Day 2 of Barber Shop Research:

Despite our best intentions of going in with a plan, we still managed to be really awkward upon entering the shop. It's sort of like stepping back in time when you open the door...You're immediately confronted with a solid row of mostly middle aged to elderly men in a long and narrow room replete with 1961 barber chairs. We started with an awkward introduction to the nearest barber, asking if the owner was there. The 3 barbers hardly looked up at us and between the 3 of them managed to piece together that he wasn't there, might be back tomorrow, and they thought it was a death in the family. We asked if we could sit and talk anyway, and they supposed it would be fine. We quickly shuffled to the back of the room, taking the 2 seats (with Lili crouching on the floor), and regrouping ourselves.

Fortunately, the barber near us, the youngest of the 4, was a bit friendlier and more willing to talk. Lili boldly asked him questions about how long he had been there (a year), where he had worked before (another shop in town), and if it was his favorite place to work. We also got that the shop opened in 1988. He supposed it was (since it was a good, convenient place to work.) We also asked his client if he was really happy with how he got his hair cut, and it first he said nothing, but finally he wryly cracked a joke that he wasn't going to say a word with a razor so close to his ears.

After a little while, the tension melted away a bit, and the man next to us got really chatty. He was there with his 4 year old grandson, an adorable boy named Ryan with platinum blonde hair. Ryan refused to talk to us at all, instead hanging his head down the entire time. Bob, his grandpa, however, actually wanted to talk to us. He told us how he had gone there for, I believe, over 10 years, since it's convenient and they do a good job. "We're not like you girls," he said. "We just get a little off the top, that's all we need." Upon my remark that $11 was a really good price for a haircut but seemed like inflation from prices in years past, he said, "My wife pays $75. I told her I got mine for 5." He also talked about how he and his wife had grown up in Temple, that they moved to Pflugerville and then Georgetown, that his kids had gone to Georgetown High School, that Ryan's dad was in Minnesota working on putting together wind turbines. When he wanted to make comments about sports (usually when we had lulled into silence), he almost always directed it to our Ryan, an interesting gender note.

When Bob wanted to ask me a question and I wasn't looking, he would just kind of lightly whack my shoulder. His gaze and demeanor were somewhat unnerving, but that is my own inherent nervousness. He behaved and spoke much like many other 40s generation Texas men I know. Slight accent, saying things such as "golly," "you know what he said, he said..." and that somewhat gruff but friendly body language that most of the men in the shop displayed, moreso an affectation of age than anything.

Another man next to our Ryan was also pretty chatty. His reasoning for going to the shop for 11-13 years (he couldn't remember, but it was after he out of the military) was that it was convenient but also that they were the only shop he knew of that still shaved necks, in particular with a single blade razor. That was a good point for he and Ryan to wax nostalgic on. He also appreciated that they took their time. He was pretty sure that Ken, the oldest barber, had been there "forever," which seemed like a true statement based on the long line of men waiting for him. Bob had pointed out that they take numbers when they walk in the door, no need for appointments, and just wait for their number. Many men, however, would skip their turn in order to wait for a specific barber. Not as many wanted the newest guy.

It was very interesting to watch the almost therapeutic trance the men went into while getting their neck lathered (by warm shaving cream from the electric warmer and dispenser that I remarked on so delightedly, thus prompting a round of exclamations of appreciation by the men) or the back of their heads buzzed. The ambiance was cozy, and it actually seemed like they got used to us being there. I was hoping that would happen, so it was nice. There is a good vibe in the shop, so I can see what keeps the men coming back.

As we walked out, we said we'd see them tomorrow, and they actually very pleasantly said good bye and smiled and seemed perfectly fine with our imminent return.

My roommate needs to stop fighting with her boyfriend....I never get any sleep....It's 1:13!

Cultural phenomenon du jour:

friend (noun) --> friending (verb)


Ok, so for yesterday's glorious realization that doesn't seem so glorious anymore. First of all, I am pretty really good at being single. It's kind of a skill of mine, being a bitter (but hopeful) Bridget Jones type. But that's not what I wrote yesterday. This is:

Probably induced by sunshine, decent sleep, and endorphins...My life is so much freer and on track without a stupid boy holding me back. The old, familiar feeling is actually a good one. Fate/universe/whatever is giving me tons of signals that it's in control and I'm on the right track (or close enough). Now is the time for seizing opportunity, getting my education on track, finding internships, and going on adventures with friends. I want to capture this tingling excitment and keep my satisfaction of self.

End quote.

Last line highly relevant!

I've managed pretty well to sustain it for most of 30ish hours. But that hopefulness is kind of back to its overbearing state, where everyone I see is potential. I have, however, noticed that this school is a lot more attractive than I ever noticed before. But my little daydream plan is to find a lovely Austin boy for maximum relationship goodness- not too close, not too far. At the same time, I'm attempting to just not even think about it at all, because you always meet people when you aren't looking. Except it's a bad habit. But at least I am excited that it could be anyone, anywhere, any time.

Went to Cookies and Pis tonight, a sorority cookie decoration for charity extravaganza. I've been attempting to keep an open mind about the whole sorority thing and was formerly very opposed...but I think I'm actually...don't freak out...going to rush. I'm not even going to justify that decision, because I don't think I should have to, no matter how much it surprises people and makes them call me a sell out. I want to do it because I do. It's different here at SU anyway, not the stereotype.

I don't recommend flu shots. They give you the flu. But hopefully it will help me avert disaster. I get the flu a lot, really bad.

New major idea: I think I might actually go with the create my own major idea. Why go to a small, weird, expensive school and not take advantage of its quirky offerings? Since I don't want any of them in particular, I can just take the classes I want to take. What's more, I could actually make my Capstone a documentary if I want to! How ridiculously cool would that be?? So the combo would be sociology/poli sci/film studies from English dept/enviro studies/econ/communications (for the one journalism class). That way I'd build a portfolio and still get the broad knowledge base. I figure that I need a good understanding of the world first and the technical knowledge can come later.

Note to self: destigmatizing enviro-- "crunchy"; bike excursion

"Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love."
-Lao Tzu (as quoted by my free SU wahoo freshman need mental help planner)

Workouts and Babies

Thank you, Cosmogirl, for telling that my big eyebrows are in fashion once again.

Flu shot gave me flu symptoms. Apparently one of those symptoms is a lack of ability to spell, as I've so far tried to spell it as flue and flew.

Despite that, today started off really glorious. I was headed to the exercise bike in the gym, when I saw that the weight room was full of eye candy, so I decided to do med balls first instead. I don't think I've ever been so inspired to do so many pushups. ;) I finally did ride the bike...while reading anthro...Is it really possible to be such a nerdy jock?

I didn't get to shower after working out, but I did eat, of course. Jumped on my bike (looking ridiculous with my giant backpack) and pedaled over to the house where I was babysitting. When I got to the gravelly railroad tracks, I decided to dismount, but lucky me! Just as I got one shoe out, my chain fell off, and I keeled right over with it.

Falling off a bike is a very annoying experience, because you go down in slow motion, beginning your embarrassment from the top of arc of the fall, all the way to the bottom, after several seconds of mortification. It's a long, embarrassing way to the ground. Then there's always the part where you gouge your leg and start bleeding all over. I hobbled up to the porch, where I got to greet my employer in my disheveled state. I played it off like, "Oh look at that, a gaping wound on my leg...Wonder how that got there...Would you happen to have a bandaid?" Wouldn't want her to think that my lack of ability to ride a bike would mean I couldn't care for her 8 month old.



Her baby really is adorable though. I miss babies soooo much!! Good thing I have 6 more babysitting jobs in the next month. It was also awesome to meet this family because they have a lot in common with me. And the dad could be a really good career resource.

I was highly efficient until now. Homework just wasn't really my thing tonight, I guess. Last xc practice tomorrow!! Too bad it's a freaking time trial...

Note to self: write about the stuff scribbled in CP notebook when not delirious

This whole fate and irony thing is starting to get creepy mccreepkins again.


(But I'm not complaining.)

Cont.

Day 2: Saturday

We awoke at 7:00, extreeeemely tired and not too jazzed. Got dressed, ate a cold piece of pineapple pizza (our food foraging skills are ingenious).



(Yes, that's my finger. I suck.)



In yet another perfectly perfect deal of fate's hand we managed to slide in to the panels with perfect timing, despite our lack of direction and time. I was on the Cool Cities panel for 3 sessions, sitting next to the representative from DC (who made deliciously snarky comments). Basically all day I sat in a room and told my story about high school organizing, and it was remarkably amazing. I was flattered that they wanted me for all 3 sessions, and to hear people say that my story was inspirational was pretty indescribable.

Enter serendipity #4. My group managed to all leave me on campus while they went to eat lunch, and I was wandering along the street, hoping to find food somewhere, when I ran into another good SSC friend. Upon introduction, her companion burst, "You're Ursula???" much to my surprise. I affirmed that I was indeed Ursula, and she offered to take me to lunch. We drove up and down Baltimore Ave, trying to find food, and finally had to settle for a weird little Chinese buffet. It ended up being cheap and filling, so whatever. I dashed into my last panel, trying to discretely eat lo mein...

After everything was over, we had to wander around again in search of food. PiC and I finally found a convenience store on campus, where we bought some pretty shady shwarmas and sandwiches and ran off to get a seat in the stadium for the show thingamabob. A bunch of speakers, some musical acts...and NANCY FREAKING PELOSI! She actually stumbled over her words a lot, but after a lot of chanting from the crowd, she started chanting along to the calls for "80 by 50" (referring to the amount of CO2 reductions required by 2050 to avoid reaching the tipping point), which was considered a symbol of her commitment to the cause. I don't really understand why people were left disappointed by what she said-- I thought it was just pretty awesome that she was there! The spoken word poetry later in the evening was also AMAZING. PiC and I already had a minor slam poetry obsession but to hear the national champions was so so so cool. There was a somewhat amusing rapper guy later...and then Van Jones!! He is a pretty really cool guy who pushes the platform of green jobs to pull impoverished people up to the middle class. Not only is he hilarious, he's really well spoken and passionate.

PiC and I decided, after much deliberation, to stay in DC with the rest of our old SPROG pals. I somehow managed to go to sleep amidst the raucous excitement in the house. This time I shared a pull out couch with 3 other girls. People were strewn about the house, on couches and the floor, under tables, everywhere.

I still have 2 days to write about, but I'm tired, and this all has taken 1.5 hours....I'll have to finish the rest in installments.

Deep breath...

...and go.

Power Shift

Day 1: Friday

PiC and I pulled out of SU around 1:30, sun shining (very brightly in our eyes), music playing (Mr. Bojangles is a song??), and grimaces of trepidation. After we finally found parking in the freaking F lot at the airport, we got lost trying to find the shuttle...which happened to be 2 rows over from where we were. Great start, we figured. We eventually did maneuver our way to our terminal and had to go through security 3 times due to laptop issues, but got there nonetheless. This was when the first miracle from our guardian angel occurred.

As we were boarding the plane, I got a phone call from a girl saying that she could house us that night. You cannot even imagine the relief I felt at this bit of news.



We got onto our plane without further incident, except for not getting to sit anywhere near each other. Due to the brilliant masterminds behind Southwest Airlines (we were desperate), seating is a free-for-all, and if you are in boarding group C you do not get to sit with your party because all of the people-phobic travelers of the world will always take the aisle and the window, leaving only middle seats open, straight down the plane. I proceeded to make some passive aggressive comments about how the phenomenon (hard word to spell). The plane decided not to take off for about 5 years but eventually got us to Baltimore. At that point we had to figure out how to somehow get across the state.

With a lot of wandering and asking only nice-looking women (who invariably always wore fleece jackets), we finalllllly found the bus stop for the B30 line. We scrambled to find $3, literally utilizing dimes and nickels, to get us somewhere. The first leg of the trip took us to the Greenbelt station.



Let me tell you about this station. I had to get the permission of an armed guard to use the bathroom. A bathroom behind 2 sets of locked doors. On the plus side, I did see a guy who looked remarkably like Kanye West, who insisted on wearing sunglasses at night (which did indeed inspire a round of singing "Sunglasses at Night").



We sat there for a long time and finally got on another bus, which had a really interesting cross section of culture. We actually overheard a man (of North/East African descent, I figured) ask the bus driver if he thought "the global warming" was natural or manmade. We couldn't scramble for our cameras fast enough to record the conversation, but it was pretty crazy. With the help of about half the bus, we eventually figured out where to stop on the U of Maryland campus (Library Lane!).

And what do you know but miracle #2 happens.

Just as we were beginning to panic about finding the dorm we were staying in, we ran smack into Nathan, a very dear friend, immediately upon disembarking. After a round of huge bear hugs, he was so incredibly kind as to adventure with us. We eventually got to our room, where we were delighted to find that we were staying with a bunch of freshman girls who were super super nice. The next dilemma was figuring out how to get to the SSC party, which was 1.5 miles away. The plan was to take a campus bus to one stop and walk a short distance from there. Turns out the cranky bus driver dropped us off in the totally wrong place and we had to walk 2 miles at 11:00 pm with no sidewalks. Thank God for Nathan. We finally finally found the party after an hour of traveling. I've never been so glad to see the SSC in my life.




The party was basically, in a word, superawesome. We ordered a pita/hummus/veggie plate (which turned out to be the last normal thing we ate all weekend) and devoured it, as we hadn't eaten all day.



Then we met lots of people, did some wild dancing (a table broke?), and generally partook in revelrie in the cold cold outdoors. I was so very glad to see some Shindiggers again, whom I hadn't seen for 2 years. Too bad they're all about 4 years older than me...

After a very long walk back, we snuck back into our room and PiC and I got ready for bed, attempting not to wake up the other girls. (PiC was a bit loud for undisclosed reasons.) We ended up having to share a single bed, and I had a bedskirt for a sheet. There were also 2 girls on the top bunk and another girl in another bunk. 3:00 am!

I just spent 45 of my time at work, (which I am, btw, still at), looking up people on facebook from SU who are engaged. I was remarkably accurate in guessing which ones were joking and which were for realz. And it's kind of scary how many are real. And by that I mean there were 10. But hey, this school only has 1300 kids...That's a decent proportion.

Does that make me a stalker, or can I pass it off as sociological research?

I'm sleepy.

I'm probably a terrible person, but oh well.

Just got back from Virginia and ate Tostitos and Halloween candy for dinner at midnight. It was that kind of day. We flew out to Virginia on Thursday, (which made 2 whole days I was in class this week and ooooh by the way, I didn't fail my midterm, which is excellent news), and took 942 years to get from Austin to Houston to Norfolk. Then we sat in the hotel for about 2 days...Well except for eating and looking at the ridiculous beauty that is a place that has real seasons, and we also finally convinced Coach to let us see Jamestown for an hour. Which was suuuuper cool for a history nerd. I got a smooshed penny that said James Fort (wahoo). I could baaarely keep my eyes open yesterday from the time I woke up until the late late hour of 11:30 that I pushed myself to stay up to. Woke up at 8:00 today and had a really terrible stomach but pretended it wasn't. The regionals course was FREEZING COLD. We all looked like snowpeople in our 5 layers of clothing. We played a few rousing rounds of Big Booty (with British accents! try it) and laughed incessantly. After freezing our bumtuskies off in our booty shorts and tank tops (i.e. uniform) and going through insane protocol, we took off on the course, straight up a vertical hill. The first time wasn't so bad, and I got a good start up the middle. Luuucky me, though, my stomach attacked me with a passion in the first mile, and I could barely move and started crying...the next mile was even worse, as I dropped really far back. The horrible wave passed enough at mile 3 for me to rocket power my way up a few spots. I finished in what felt like record time but what was in fact a whole lot slower than Conference, though comparable to the TLU meet. Coach ran up and hugged me while I cried on her out of pain, and she was amazingly nice, calling me "an incredible fighter."

We hung around far too long waiting for results (haha!) and fiiiinally left for the longest, worst plane ride of my life. It felt like having carbonated stomach acid for 6 hours. Somehow I got a remarkable amount of homework done, but on the last flight I just bought Seventeen (guilty pleasure) and learned how to have a great butt and select lip gloss.

So now I'm here. And still haven't written about Power Shift. Yell at me to do so.

Perversely amusing things

The Christian fraternity on campus has apparently deemed me a dangerous threat. Despite their determination that I am a "nice person" and their desire to hang out with me all the time, they must constantly check in with each other to make sure I am not spreading the virus of my unconventionality.

Better call up my coven for a good ole fashioned drum circle, consulting of the oracle bones, and a bit of voodoo.

If I didn't love this school, I'd hate it.

I'm on MTV!!!!!!!

http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1573629/20071106/index.jhtml

I must apologize, oh loyal readers, that the thrilling and lengthy account of the past weekend will be a bit late in coming. I have a mountain of homework to catch up on first.

But as a sneak preview and a reminder to myself:
1. Transportation adventure with Partner-in-crime across states
2. Bedskirts
3. Serendipity
4. Armed guards
5. More armed people of the police variety
6. Purple feet
7. Nancy Pelosi
8 MTV
9. Metro authorities
10. Career opportunities

Doom

I am straight trippin about figuring out the transportation situation tonight. We just found out at 9:00 pm last night that we didn't have a ride from the airport anymore, so somehow we have to figure out how to get from Baltimore to Virginia to College Park and back to Virginia. That's 3 f***ing hours on the metro if we even can figure that out.

Something amusing did come out of this though....I was frantically calling people from the housing board on the Power Shift website last night, seeing if anyone had room on campus for us just for tonight, and I spoke to this one craaazy girl.

[All of her parts are said very slowly in a creepy monotone]

Me: Hi blah blah blah help please
R: Well, you can stay here. But...I would suggest finding another dorm.
Me: Uhh ok...
R: Yes. A terrible thing happened here yesterday.
Me: Oh really....*silence*
R: Oh. Would you like to know what happened?
Me: Umm I guess so
R: A student passed...away...
Me: Oh dear...ummmmm

That was one of the most awkward conversations I've ever had. Ever.

I'm going to freeze.

----
A wasp just fell out of my hair, onto my pants, was flicked off by a marker, and is now crawling up my wall.

What a day of giving my all. Practice was really good, particularly core circuit. Coach told me to do pushups until I maxed out and eventually had to just tell me to stop because I'd "done enough" and wasn't stopping. That was a pretty cool feeling. Later I practiced violin for 45 minutes, which is more than I've practiced in a really long time. The great part was that I hardly noticed the time go by-- it's so great to enjoy playing again. I also had that contented feeling again, mostly reflecting how much I love having time to do errands and little tasks throughout the day. (Hooray for college!) It's also amazing how much better I do in classes I enjoy..novel concept.

Frantic preparation for tomorrow!!! Huge thanks, though, to the mayor of Sugar Land for helping me out today.

Barber Shop Quartet

Day 1:

Today my group attempted to make entree for our Intro to Anthro ethnography project. The assignment is to choose a public place in town and observe and participate in the culture of the place. We chose to go to City Barber Shop, a little hole in the wall shop that you can easily drive right by (and we did indeed). The 4 of us- 3 girls, 1 guy- walked into the shop with not much of a plan as far as what to do, hoping to just chat with the owner and see if it was ok if we used the location. As soon as we walked in, I knew it was the right place for our project. Upon opening the creaky old door labeled with a peeling "Men's Haircuts" sign, we were faced with a solid row of men, all ages, getting their hair cut by more men, while even more men sat waiting in chairs. Jackpot as far as the gender category of the report. The awkward factor shot through the roof, another reason why the location was so grand. (After all, what's an ethnography if you don't immerse yourself in a culture you don't feel entirely comfortable in?)

We stood there for a few moments, all four of us crammed into the little space there was, looking around and feeling completely overwhelmed. Interestingly, our only male ethnographer shrunk back behind the females, leaving us to do the talking. After far too many moments of feeling ridiculously out of place, I stepped up to the closest barber, an elderly man with white hair and a semi-scowl, and gave my spiel about being a student doing a project and needing a place to just talk to people and observe their interactions. He let me get through my speech, which Lily chimed in on to back me up, and then grumbled, "You'll have to talk to the man in the back; he's the owner."

So we all shuffled back to the somewhat more lively man in a pink shirt with short gray military-square hair. He immediately shot, "What are you selling?" We emphatically denied that statement and explained again. He listened, hardly even nodding, and we waited tensely to see his reaction. I think he might have mumbled that it would be alright after asking a few more questions, such as how long we would be there. I'm not sure how much the fact that three girls were approaching him or our being in his very much males-only shop in general bothered him, but he eventually gave us permission.

The man who was getting his hair cut by Willard (the owner) chimed in, in mostly incoherent tones, that we didn't look like we were in college. He pointed to Lily and I and said, "Those two in particular. You look like freshmen in high school." We were a bit confused because we didn't understand most of what he said, but we laughed nervously. He then told us how he used to teach. We managed to extract a little more intelligible information from him, such as that he was an elementary school teacher, mostly 5th grade, who taught all over the state. He also said something about San Marcos, but we weren't quite sure what it was.

It was interesting to watch how the barbers could do something as delicate as cut someone's ear hair while carrying on a conversation (albeit stilted) and give wary looks at the same time. Some of the patrons were actually much younger men than we expected, including some 20s-type Hispanic men and a middle aged man in hunting gear. (I'm going to have to note race, as this is an ethnography.)

I believe we made a mostly successful entree. I'm very grateful for our chat with the retired teacher, as I feel it gives us a little bit more legitimacy in our mission and also allowed a beginning to our rapport. Willard could see that our intentions were pure and that we could interact with his customers, and he seemed to relax a bit. In the future, we are going to go in smaller groups, and the girls are going to try to go with a guy in order to avoid any excessively uncomfortable situations. This set up will also allow us to spend more time there in a more natural manner, as we can wait for the said guy to get his hair cut while we chat with customers. I think it will be easier upon our return to the shop, as Willard will know who we are. I have this ideal vision of him growing accustomed to us and maybe even looking forward to our visits. I don't know if I'm allowed to say that in my field notes...