It's been more than a week so I figured I'd check in with y'all. UVa is every bit as wonderful as I suspected it would be. Move-in day alone included a ride in the KIDNAPPER VAN (see my facebook pic to understand how incredibly scared we were) and this massive block party where police vans were attempting to patrol the street but failing because the party could not be contained to the sidewalk. I got to watch a guy get dragged/carried away by the police and that's the point at which we decided to leave. GREAT first night! hehe. We tried fratting again, with limited success (little miss We Have To Leave dragged us out of the frat that was playing REGGAE MUSIC, they were my HEROS!) and I got beer all over my pretty pink heels. Good thing it doesn't really stain shoes. I found out that the Glee Club knows how to party (do you know what an ice luge is? If you don't, LEARN!), how to play "horserace," the best way to keep Ben from saying "OMG" out loud, that TJ's favorite vegetable was peas, that ANDREWLI is in my microbio class (!!!!), and that knowing a frat brother means you get to skip to the front of the line and you feel all special and stuff. And something about economics but I forgot.
Last night, I was walking next to Ben and he made me mad, so I bit him. And I'm so short that I just happen to be chest-height. Yup, that's right, I bit his nipple. Through his shirt. And then later, he was telling that story and I was standing next to him, on the other side, and I got annoyed with him for telling the story and decided to help him out a bit and so I bit him again. The other one this time. I'm not sure he's forgiven me yet.
I cannot convey how freaking awesome my suite is. We have dance parties. We did the macarena, on furniture. Some boys came by and we all belted Kelly Clarkson at the top of our lungs for half an hour. We have quotes (OUR quotes.) taped to the windows as decoration, as well as a list of phone numbers on the wall should anyone ever get lonely and need some 220's goodness. Glee Club parties will never be the same. There are too many Carolines, but we love them all. We have strange attachments to boys on posters, snowball fights, and the Dean of the Honors College (cutest old man EVER. EVER.). The RA loves us best. We have honorary 220's (you should BE so lucky) as well as a blacklist - but we're pretty tolerant. Just don't sit on Jessica's polar bear or she'll transform to a psycho Asian mother in .0004 seconds. And there were two boys curled up in my bed (I was not in it) and no one even found this strange.
JimmyWright: "We will be keeping very close tabs on you. I mean, you are unlikely to run into us on Rugby Road after midnight ... or, well, ever ... but still, VERY close tabs on you!"
Michelle: "SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'LL THROW UP ON YOU!! Why am I yelling at you guys? You're my buddies. I love you! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Hannah: "Can my roommate and I come see your suite?"
Nathan: "Yeah, but we can't date."
Hannah: "Should I wear this buttoned up like this?"
Joy: "Yeah, because at least you'll look conservative when you throw yourself at the Virginia Gentlemen."
Hannah: "Never have I ever dropped acid ... after smoking weed ... but before doing a line of coke ... wait, fuck."
My Door: "AB CHECK at the door! Shirts up!"
Joy: "I want to sleep with the Academical Village People."
VeronicaTheRA: "...."
Joy: "Oh, I mean figuratively."
VeronicaTheRA: "Oh, I figuratively want to sleep with the Hullabahoos."
Joy: "Oh, me too! And the soccer team."
I had more, but it's not necessary. I love it here. I miss you all. Send me mail:
J oy A rcangeliLove you forever and promise to write you back!
Webb 223
Charlottesville, VA 22904-2604
ROOOOOONEEEYYY WOOOOOOOOO!
I just spent hours giggling over pictures and Kyle on facebook and Martha Fucking Stewart, unable or unwilling to realize that they would be the last of their kind for too long.
I just walked away from the girl that I walked into the first day of freshman year with, and stood with at Convocation. And that about sums us up.
I left behind just a traveling Batman watch and a pile of pictures to take my place.
And I finished with high school and the Ridge the moment I drove away.
There's nothing left but leaving.
How DARE you? How DARE you assume that was about you, about you two, about him? I'll never tell what exactly it is I'm referring to, and I'll never tell how I found out, but I am horrified, disgusted, appalled, all at once. How. Dare. You.
What's funny, though, is that I'm not sure what upsets me so much about this. I'm perversely pleased that you still pay so much attention to me, as I left you behind so long ago. There just wasn't room in my life for a bunch of perpetual underachievers with stars in their eyes but lacking the guts to ever try for any of it. Quite frankly, the life you lead scares me because my greatest fear is not making anything of myself, and I was afraid it was catching. So, I'm probably not angry just because you were talking about me. That actually made me snicker.
I think it's more that you think I must be putting in as much energy thinking about you as you are about me ... nooot quite. Until just this morning, not a second thought. What gets me is this picture I have in my head of you all just sitting around, giggling, picturing me thinking wistfully of what you have. (Un)Fortunately (for you) for me, this has never been the case. And I don't know why it kills me that you might not know that.
haha, it occurs to me that (okay, bear with me here) the group of people I was ACTUALLY talking about before might mistakenly see themselves in this, whereas the group of people I WASN'T referring to will probably miss it altogether. Too bad, I still ain't naming names. I'm too opinionated for that.
I proceeded to stamp out the last glimmerings of my Faith In Humanity (don't worry, it grows back quickly) with this link that I got from Ryan (Harlowe/Moran:The Art of Seduction Has Never Been Quite So Belligerent). Take it with a grain of salt of course (there's a reason it's called Gossip), but there's a moment of truth in the lies, and the truth is that no matter how much I want to believe that these people are nice, down-to-earth, the girl/guy next door, honestly funny, and as charming as they are on the Tinseltown screen ... bathtubs full of money just make everyone really really dirty.
Not that I wouldn't dive in without a backward glance. But I'd try to avoid a coke habit.
And trust me, I do plan to be that rich. =) More and more I like mine and Ben's plan of purchasing a small island in the Mediterranean Sea and carefully controlling the guest list.
T Minus 3 days and counting. And now I gotta go say goodbye (again, some more, with more to come.).
You were lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine.
To make matters worse, I'm thinking in song lyrics tonight, so I keep having to flip through my iTunes library to figure out just exactly what it is I'm muttering to myself. Slows the packing down considerably. Obviously, I finally just gave up altogether and accepted that I'm going to waste another midnight on my beautiful shiny computer. I can deal with that.
Ashleeee and I went to the Melting Pot for molten chocolate tonight and we were dressed all cute and carrying presents, so they asked us what we were celebrating. And sadly what we were celebrating was ... me leaving. More of a funeral march.
But how cute were we, each of us bringing a present for the other that we'd been covertly working on! I had a masterpiece of a scrapbook and Ashleee got me this:
a photo collage of our incandescence! which is most certainly going to be the FIRST thing that goes up in my dorm room bright and early on Saturday morning. Oh so bright, so beautiful.
And then Ashley broke BOTH her dress straps on the ride home (it was a hot, if inadvertant, striptease ... with a little more strip, a little less tease). I've never loved her more.
Our server was positively adorable and kept us quite entertained and earned his 20% tip. My favorite Mike moment was when he served our fondue - called Flaming Turtle, as it was chocolate, caramel, nuts, and set on fire - and said "Yes, this is the flaming turtle ... he's just now coming to terms with himself, he's actually headed out to the Carousel tonight."
tee hee. Though I would suggest the Ballroom. For the cages if nothing else.
Poster presentation yesterday went off swimmingly. I taught many Physics and Computer Science majors about soil chemistry and analytical chemistry and environmental science, and surprised myself when I realized I've actually learned a lot this summer. The laboratory experience has of course been invaluable - high school chem lab, as anyone who had 6th period Ed in 03-04 will remember, consisted mainly of me breaking glassware and flirting with Ben, occasionally both at the same time (that's talent.). But despite mine and Jen's tendency to waste time with ice cream breaks or text twist marathons, we were on time, prepared, and quite professional. Witness:
Our mentors were glowing with pride. I'm not sure if that's because they expected us to be delinquent and skip the session altogether and they were just so happy to see that we actually went, or because they thought we did good work, but either way, compliments are compliments.
Jen leaves tomorrow. I'm gonna miss this girl! The lab turned out to be a little like summer camp after all, what with the obscene amounts of togetherness lab time and requisite activities. She's been my entertainment, fo sho.
But she's going back to Cali where they don't have this strange thing called "rain" and where they actually have "rainbow floors" in USC dorms - yes, it's EXACTLY how it sounds. San Fran next summer, anyone?
Speaking of requisite lab activities, I was drawn to the graduate fair like a moth to the flame with the words "free food" (and I'm not even in college yet!) but was surprised with a much better present. Check this out - it's the back of my brand new (free) t-shirt and I.love.it.
My favorite, and possibly the most true, is that one about proving that you have been working. That's the technique I've been using all summer - and a variation on it is, if you've actually been working and you have no viable data to show for it, add two or three more graphs with slightly different data points to your excel file, and heck, that's like a week's worth of effort right there. Or rather, the illusion of.
For the record, I've actually been working really hard this summer and I've accomplished a lot and I was really interested in what I was doing for the first seven weeks, but the honeymoon's over and anymore it feels like I'm not getting anywhere. Thus, the jaded-ness over my beloved research. At least I'm not the only one feeling this way.
People are just full of contradictions. Does anyone really know what they want? I meant that about serious, important things, but really, I don't know hardly anyone who, when you say "hey, what do you want to do tonight?" "where do you eat?" has an answer, or even suggestions. Are we all really that afraid of offending whoever's asking the question? Or are we just that unsure?
It's times like these when I'm reminded of the time long-gone Ryan told me, as if speaking to a child, that if I don't know what I want I can't hardly expect to get it. But this time it's not me - it's someone else, who I've watched go through several iterations of searching for something, leaving behind things he wants now, getting what he would have traded anything for and then second-guessing himself. I just want to jump in and talk him back to certainty because he's happier there, but it's entirely not my place. shrug. Well, I would have given it a shot, anyways.
...paving a road to somewhere with my good intentions. I'd rather pave it with skulls.
Oh, and today Holly found this little gem, for all you kids with too much free time. Favorites? Cereal kitty, laptop kitty, baby kitty, baby-on-kitty. Seriously, go look. I was skeptical at first but quickly turned to the furry side.
This is really long but it took a remarkably short amount of time. Because that was a vital piece of information. And now for A Game - what are the songs I'm quoting tonight, and who are they by? It's mostly really easy, as I'm kinda one-track-minded tonight, but there's a couple of curveballs. Go nuts.
"Sweet statutory, you look beautiful!"
Oh, who are we kidding.
Except, I just gave in to the temptation to play with my schedule, again.
I am now taking 18 hours - no worries, as 12 of them are complete jokes - and the most pressing question in my life is whether it's best to have a class at 10, an hour break, and then a class at 12, or consecutive classes (does anyone have an opinion on that?).
But my greatest triumph?
I just rearranged my schedule so that I'm completely free every Thursday night before, during, and after the 8-9 teevee slot. Because clearly, The O.C. is of the greatest importance when planning out one's college career.
I need help.
"I'm just going to go brood, silently, over there."
Last Travis party tonight. They've been something of a staple in the growing-up of all of us - Ridgers, Clintonites, even some SD kids (love you, Jen). The first one I ever went to, I remember so perfectly - it was a birthday party, when I was best friends with Erica, and we went shopping and got dolled up and I even know exactly what we were wearing -- and of course everyone else was in t-shirts and shorts. We didn't know the rules!
The rules have changed - this year there was pole dancing and Daisy Dukes. Of course, now Jen and I break the whatever is left of them with glee. We would have been in heels again (she conquered Anderson County in spike heels and a perfect skirt last year, as she ate a s'more with the utmost of distaste, annoyed at the stickiness) except for the fierce thunderstorm warnings. Wouldn't have mattered anyways, since we vetoed the two hours of volleyball that nearly everyone else thought was such a great idea. Trust me, it was a good plan on our parts, and for the safety of all involved.
But we had plenty of company!! We chilled in the dining room, and the party came to us as we gossipped and giggled our way through the evening.
Pretty girlsies.
I was so not kidding when I said the party came to us - these kids all came and sat on the floor as Jen and I reigned over the chairs we Did Not Leave for like three hours.
This cool guy came too! (out of hiding, YeS!)
the sad part is that I think she's actually imitating one of my inadvertant faces. I better start looking in mirrors more often.
Chair dancing ... this was merely a prelude to the pole dancing.
Action Shot: Brownie throwing-and-catching, mid almost-catch.
Meredith: See, Joy, this is how us sober kids have fun ... we have to come up with stuff ... wow, this is sad, maybe we'll start drinking.
Smoooosh.
Jen: something about ***** getting married
Me: Yeah, but it'd have to be at his parents' house. Because he'd be too drunk to drive home. And he can't, anyways.
Jen: hysterical laughter, realizing that he actually IS going to honeymoon in his parents' downstairs...
my life=love.
But that only slightly distracted me from the fact that Travis is the first one to leave, next Saturday. Dust and Brooke's party that night will be weird without him and I know we'll all miss him like cah-razy. I assume the pain of him leaving will be quickly dulled by, say, the pain of everyone else leaving, but still. I wonder how he'll be at college - I wonder how all of us will be at college. Are we ready for this?
No turning back now.
Secondary announcement: Go see Wedding Crashers. I haven't enjoyed a movie that much in a really long time (discounting Batman) (including all the movies I'm supposed to like because they're technically "good," not because they're brilliantly funny). Maybe the wedding montage will get you, maybe it'll be the sheer ridiculousness of the dialogues-turned-monologues, maybe you'll love seeing Rachel McAdams realize she's trapped in yet another unfufilling relationship and ultimately decide she can't get married, again. Whatever your poison, get your ass over to Tinseltown and let your day get a little bit brighter. There's even a totally unexpected plot twist!! (when neither Ben nor I see it coming, it was hidden pretty well.)
"The proper girl in the hat just eye-fucked the shit out of me."
I am just worried about living in a society where the "president of Greater Cincinnati Right to Life" and someone who "opposed the invasion and has said U.S. troops need better protection" are locked in an out-and-out battle. It seems like we all agree that life is a good thing and we should watch out for it (and I could make an argument that perhaps the lives of grown men and women with families who love them are slightly more important than the "lives" of a bunch of cells that no one wants, but whatever, we've all got differenet priorities.), so what are we arguing about?
You know what else? One of them has been sitting at home campaigning and whatnot, and one of them volunteered (oh that's right) for a seven-month tour. And as always, it's the one pushing the war who doesn't know anything about it, and the one who's been there who is warning against it.
The election is in a "conservative district" so I guess we'll see. Not an all-important race, but I was caught up by the blatent ironies and irrationalities of it.
Politics make me sick. Anyone who's older than me or who perhaps paid better attention in APUSH, has it always been this bad?
"When I was your age, television was called books."
So today was a difficult day, in every possible sense of the word. So much so that I was throwing myself out the door in the direction of the marina to get this all out of my system, because that's what I do, when Mother stopped me wondering why I was wearing sunglasses at oh-twenty-one-hundred-hours. I shrugged it off like I must have forgotten to take them off, unwilling to admit to her the truth - that I was afraid I would burst into tears fairly quickly and the glasses make it less awkward for the other people on the trail.
And then I'm there, with my little athletic top and my shiny iPod (sunglasses-less, of course), and I'm walking away from my baby black truck. My mind doesn't feel as clear as it usually does when I start staring across the water. And suddenly I notice that I'm not only walking, I'm accelerating, like something is pushing me like the beat of my music usually does, except then I realise that I'm listening to Existentialism on Prom Night, and while it is one of my favorite songs, it doesn't exactly have a driving base line. And I don't know what's propelling me forwards but I keep speeding up, until I don't think I can physically move my legs any faster than they are moving without breaking into a dead sprint; I have been expressly forbidden to do this by at least three doctors.
But I didn't get that message to my legs because the next thing I know I'm running like a bat out of hell, arms and legs flying everywhere and right on cue the iPod (I swear it can hear me thinking) starts playing songs that make me want to fight the world and I keep plummeting forwards, falling into a slightly cleaner rhythm for a mile, two miles, and before I know it I'm collapsed next to my truck in a little pile because my knees have given out. I didn't even feel them start throbbing, falling in and out of alignment, twisting around. That's when I remembered why I used to love running - there's just not enough brain power left over to pay attention to little things bothering you. Too busy trying to survive something that the human race was not evolutionarily built to do. I have not been able to work up the willpower to survive the physical pain of running for two years - I guess I was just waiting for a day when I really, really needed it.
I took Jen to Big Ed's today. Trying to get in the whole Ridge experience - we've done Cantarito's, the rope swing, now Big Ed's, and since it was her birthday, she even got a t-shirt! Hott. The only thing left on my list is Magic Wok, which she was refusing to try on principle of hating fake Chinese food. So I took her by Magic Wok after lunch to try to convince her to go later this week on the sheer amusement of the place, forgetting that for people not raised on "Chicken cashew sweet and sour?" the warehouse-like back room, sticky counters and overall dingy and frightening location don't do much to whet the appetite ... no matter, she's got two weeks left here and I will break her yet!! Any other Ridger staples I'm missing? K eiran suggested, with a glint in his eye, the Friendship Bell. Poor Jen actually got excited for a second - she thought that might be somewhere cool. I think maybe the cliffs, and then I'm out. Shouldn't it be easy to instantly come up with a laundry list of things that make your home your home?
"I had you pegged, didn't I?"
"You had the whole human race pegged.
