Spring break is drawing to a close and I've been such a bum. It's awesome, I love it. I did, however, totally out of character for me, watch about a billion movies. And anyone who knows me knows that that's not ex-act-ly being a bum, because movies are so damn hard for me to follow that it's really a lot more work than just, say, laying on the couch not moving. I mean, I got confused watching The Ring 2 for crying out loud - Nick had to keep reminding me what happened in the first movie. I blame that on the fact that I've repressed the memory of that movie. I remember watching it - that was the night that Tara and I got so scared that we had to call Ryan in Knoxville and demand that he come sit between us and keep us safe. I don't know why we didn't just turn it off, because we were both so scared that we wanted to just die so the terror would end, but we had determined that we were going to watch it all the way through. And then I had a nightmare. And then I put that movie out of my mind, and consequently was more scared than need be watching the sequel because I wasn't prepared for anything.
But anyways, that's my excuse for that one. For The Merchant of Venice, I got nuthin. Yes, we had to read it. Yes, we spent two weeks discussing it. Yes, I took a test on it. No, I didn't take anything away from the whole experience except the knowledge that Jews have eyes and if you cut them, they bleed. So, when Mark decided that we needed to see the new movie, I attempted to drive him crazy asking what was going on. Of course, he's just as much of a slacker as I am, so he didn't have a clue either. Well, Al Pacino was brilliant anyways, and that's really all that matters, right? Right. Ashleee dragged me to movies, too, but she had it easier than the boys because she picked Miss Congeniality 2 and New York Minute, and even *I* can follow those with relatively little effort. Except for the part where I confused the Olsen twins, but we'll just let that slide.
So, other than trying really, really hard to follow the plot of movies, I've accomplished nooothing this spring break. I did get to hang out with the perfect-in-every-way cousin Mary Beth and her friends Matthew and Paco the other day, though. Yes, his name is Paco. No, I don't know what his parents were thinking. ::shrug:: he's cute though. Oh, oh oh oh. AND I saw my grandfather DANCE. We were at my aunt's wedding reception (the aunt who sent me the pink flamingo pen, for all of you who have heard that story), right, and although there was swing dancing, No One gets my grandfather to dance. Ever. EVER.
Yeah, she, with a total disregard for her own safety or for any sort of sanity at all, grabbed Grandpop and, whaddya know, he KNOWS how to dance! He's so adorable.
You can't see it in his face, but he was having a great time. He didn't even remember to start scowling and pretending he hates dancing again until he sat down. I think he kinda overexerted himself, though. Also, I know the contrast is bad, but can you guys see now why I thought my grandfather was black until I was like 9?
Oh, I had Katie and Jake the other night, right after they'd gotten their adenoids out. Poor babies!! They were okay at first, and we even did some finger painting
(I am a very, very brave person. They're dangerous.) before they got tired and upset and sick-ish. They slept for about 30 minutes, and then started taking turns waking up from 9 until midnight. I ended up sleeping sitting on the floor and leaning on the couch so that when Katie woke up, she could immediately start playing with my hair (She plays with the hair of people she trusts when she's scared, sleepy, or upset), and letting Jake just sleep in my lap until he finally was okay enough to go to bed. We watched 4 episodes of Scooby-Doo, Toy Story 2, half of The Neverending Story, and we were facing the Huns with Mulan when Jill got home. She took one look at me curled up on the floor with Katie's fingers in my hair and announced that she was paying me extra next time. Not that the only reason I'm there is the money - how could you get frustrated with a face like this?!?
Yeah. You can't.
All right, time to prepare for school, since I am going for all of four days this week, and then at LEAST three days the week after that. After that, I make no promises - I'm going to visit Mary Beth at GW before she graduates. Man, I hope I can find my alarm clock. I haven't seen it in weeks. Oh well. 38 days, guys.
"It's really not that you can't see
The forest for the trees -
You've never been out in the woods alone."
And why shouldn't it? After all, this is something I've wanted for four years now. Remember that Williamsburg trip we took in the 8th grade? Yeah. When you guys were busy doing God-knows-what on the UVa tour (was that the point where a bunch of boys got ahold of sparkling grape juice bottles and started staggering around pretending to be drunk? Love middle school ...), I was trying to think of something I could do to earn myself a lawn room. I have since reconsidered this lawn room thing (um, it snows sometimes, and I sure as hell am not walking through the snow to get to the shower!), but the atmosphere of UVa stuck with me. And then Bryce got the Jeff and, well, I've wanted it ever since.
Half of the stuff that's on my resume is only on there because I was trying to make myself competitive for this scholarship. And that's not to say that I didn't actually do the stuff, because I did, and I'm glad that I did. IRC, GSIS, PH ... yeah. And then my senior schedule this year, the one that's tried to kill me multiple times. Again, all to fufill the "scholarship" requirement. The Jefferson is the reason I swallowed my pride and reconciled with Tony after The Gossip Fiasco, it's the reason I took French junior year, and it's the reason I didn't quit Science Olympiad. All this work for all these years, so focused on this one goal - I can't comprehend that it's done and I'm finished and everything was enough.
Of course, I'm not conceited enough to think I did this on my own. My parents spent the last several weeks telling me I had better prepare for this weekend and that my laziness was going to ensure that I didn't get it - but secretly, they were both sure I could do it. So sure, in fact, that Mother bought a UVa flag to hang outside --- TWO WEEKS AGO! (but she didn't show it to me until Monday; didn't want to jinx it.) And I know I complain a lot about my parents never thinking that I'm good enough, but really in this case, I think that attitude actually helped. If they'd been all "You deserve this and if you don't get it, it's the Foundation's mistake," well, maybe I wouldn't have tried so hard. This tough love thing has its benefits. And of course Mrs. L esesne and Mrs. A lbert and Dr. L uther, and then Tony wrote the recommendation that I think won this thing for me. Lydia even helped a lot, most notably when I called her freaking out after the Class Comparison Speech, at which point I learned that I was competing against people who had done research on lukemia and cancer, a kid who taught rats to play basketball, a girl fluent in seven languages, and an internationally-ranked Irish dancer. Completely ignoring the fact that I was being irrational, she said, perfectly calmly, "You DO realize that right now the girl fluent in seven languages is just as freaked out as you, because she's not an internationally-ranked Irish dancer?" and somehow that was all I needed.
All things considered, though, this weekend was amazingly fun and relaxing - amazing considering we all knew that one out of every three of us was going to get the coveted scholarship, and so backstabbing could only help our chances. And yet, it was nothing like Survivor, as my mother and apparently other parents feared it would be. The hosts told us to go out and have fun, and we did. I went to a frat party, a house party, and something of a gathering in a lawn room, hung out at Webb, saw the Rotunda past midnight and did somersaults on the Lawn, sampled the Corner's late-night cuisine, witnessed my first-ever LAX game (SO awesome!), learned about espionage and the greatness of Rome, went upstairs in Monticello, and had multiple conversations about college basketball. Along the way, I got green beer spilled on me more than once, developed a taste for coffee and a distaste for frat houses, learned that sweaters are not appropriate for 60 degrees and sunny, developed a bit of a Chicaago accent myself, decided that Washington really is overrated, realized that I was never going to live the somersaulting thing down, met some of the smartest, most impressive, and all-around greatest people I will ever know, and only got lost once. Okay, twice. I'm totally ready for college.
In some sort of miraculous freak accident, my roommate for the weekend turned out to be someone that I am enough like that we got along beautifully, but not enough like that the whole Type-A thing clashed. Her name is Jessica, and she got the Jeff too (!!!!!), and she's completely awesome. I personally think she looks a lot like Beth, but you guys can draw your own conclusions. Pictures are here, but here's one of Bowman and Jess that I haven't posted yet. They're not so good with smiles or serious faces, bless their hearts ...
That was taken during our dinner in the Rotunda, btw. The full awesomeness of that is more apparent in a couple of the other pictures I have. But anyways, Bowman got the Jeff too, and so we have to lure him away from the tentacles of Hahvahd. Screw New England, guys, Virginia has four seasons!! And, you know you wanna be a Wahoo - the fish that can drink twice its body weight. No joke, that's why they chose the mascot. AND, they're also the Cavaliers, so if fish aren't your thing, perhaps you can be convinced with swords!
Oh, so, public service announcement: Frat houses are icky. The furniture is broken, the floors are sticky, and they only let boys in if they're accompanied by an overwhelming ratio of begging girls. Now, I'm not saying that that was my last frat party, because I actually did have fun, but maybe the next one will be on a Saturday instead of St. Patrick's Day, when I'm told there's more dancing and less green beer. Or, you know, NO green beer, which would also suit me. But hey, the Jeff Scholars told us to go out and party, so go out and party we did. They also threw us a party on Friday, and **SEVENTY** of the Finalists showed up. Let me impress upon you how surprising this was. Um, yeah, I didn't realize that we had 70 finalists who weren't going straight to bed after dinner. I mean, leaders they may be, but being social was not a strong suit for a good number of them. And okay, granted, a lot of them left pretty quickly, but getting 70 finalists to come out is still an achievement on par with, say, getting Jing to do anything social about two or three years ago. AND - and this is where they get their major brownie points - they played Dragostea Din Tei, and the ENTIRE PARTY started screaming and singing along (badly) and dancing (even worse). I had to call Ryan Lee right then and tell him - even though it was like midnight on a school night. Sorry bout that, btw. I just ... forgot. And I really am not ready to go back to high school - I haven't been in so long that it's scary.
Hmm, what else? I met a bunch of awesome people, most notably Jess, Bowman, and Davis, who is apparently the best boyfriend ever, as he was totally cool with his girlfriend calling at all hours (like during breakfast!) and he was so cute when we teased him about it. I definitely want him to come to UVa with us, but we might all have to pitch in to pay his cell phone bill - that thing'll be a monster. He's from New Orleans and had an adorable accent. Jess had a Chicago accent, but she didn't realize that she did, which made it ten times better. Unfortunately, I imitated her so much that it actually rubbed off on me. So, I'm trying to shake that off as quickly as possible. And then there's Bowman, the New Hampshire man, who has no accent but is perfectly willing to make fun of everyone else's. He also was having trouble with the whole Southern Gentleman thing, which was a big shock for people from the North. I mean, not that I expect boys to open doors and pull out chairs and push elevator buttons, but it happens to me enough that I'm used to it. Some of these girls were floored! Jess and I were easing Bowman in to it - by the end of the weekend, he was all over pushing the "walk" button so we could all cross the street. Give me three more years and I may have him holding doors! hehe.
Oh, wow. One of my judges is CLOSE PERSONAL FRIENDS with Dr. Watson. Yes, that Dr. Watson. The one who did that little thing with the DNA and the measurments and the double helices ... This came out when they asked me who in science inspires me and I started babbling on about Rosalind Franklin (thanks, The Race for the Double Helix, the most helpful extra credit assignment ever), and this guy just hits me with, oh yeah, I know Dr. Watson. It would be useful at this point to note that this guy who knows one of the most famous scientists of the 20th century is also the President of the American Stock Exchange. And I had idle conversation with him over lunch! I don't even remember what we talked about! It's craziness.
And, random, but does anyone know why frats make some sort of random mark on your hand when you go in? We tried to figure this out, but we couldn't, as my mark looked like an "L" and Jessica's looked like an "M" and Bowman's looked like a "V" and we were in the Chi Phi house anyways. I think the point is just so everyone knows where you were last night when you're all tired and baggy-eyed and chugging coffee like it's your job the next morning. ::shrug:: and proud of it ...
Geez, this is long. And I'm sure I have more to say. But now, let's thank our sponsor ...
Oh, and NAIMUN pictures are here, complete with the entire nerdy-boys-looking-at-Cosmo series, which I promised on more than one occasion would never see the light of day. Gosh, I guess I lied. I will, however, accept bribes to take them down. And lastly, I am proud to say that I am done with the college process, and I could not be more happy about the outcome. I will be attending UVa as a Jefferson Scholar and an Echols Scholar, with Ben, Hunter, and as many other Finalists as possible. I know April 1 is fast approaching, and I sincerely hope everyone else ends up as satisfied as I am, because this is a great feeling.
Thanks to you, now I get what I want.
So, one scholarship weekend, one Virus of Death, four "band practices," two English tests, about six days of school, thirteen episodes of The OC and one surgery later, I am alive and well! Ben's mixer is not, however. It died tonight in the line of duty, unable to mix that last spoonful of flour with the batter. A memorial service will be held on Sunday, and donations can be made in its memory to Ben's mom, who unfortunately now has to replace a piece of kitchen equipment that she's had since college. Ohhh well. At least we accomplished our objective of Making Chocolate Chip Cookies, though we nearly gave up hope several times - most notably when we realized we'd forgotten an entire stick of butter, and we had to stir it in by hand. I feel like I got quite a workout.
Okay, I'm going to admit this here and now. I'm severly addicted to The OC. It's entirely Ben's fault. It was supposed to be just a one-night thing, a fling, for when I was on painkillers and couldn't distinguish bad TV from, say, Gilmore Girls. But it seems to have become very serious very quickly - I can't turn the damn show off!! And I don't even know why! It's not funny, or well-written, or even particularly entertaining, and I can see all this from an objective point of view, and yet I cannot stop myself from watching an entire disc at a time. I need a twelve-step program or a patch or something. And I need to stop saying "Whatev."
I'm a McNair Scholar. Everyone say Yey. It's gonna be really hard to turn down free money next year to go someplace else and dive into debt. But hey, it's crazy awesome security. And I got to hang out with Travis for the whole weekend, which was AWESOME. Also, he got McNair, too, so congrats and all my love to him!! Hehe, and I'm gonna tell y'all a secret. I did something I've never done before - I gave up on a competition!! I'm excited only because it's so awesome for me to make a really decisive decision like that. It suddenly hit me that I would not go to Emory under any circumstances, ever. Sure, it was my dream school when I was thirteen, but let's also consider that when I was thirteen, I was dating Brian. Yeah. Point made. Anyways, so I called them and told them I didn't want the scholarship, and I didn't even want them to tell me if I'd been selected for it. And you know what? I feel so much better knowing that I'm not going to have to pretend to want to attend this school that I don't love just so I can take money away from someone who wants it more than anything. An interesting concept for me. I'm kinda proud.
My cover story for my new scar is going to be that I got into a naked mud-wrestling knife fight. I'll let your imaginations run wild on that, and I'll check back in like a week to see what kind of search strings started popping up on the hit counter. It should be a good ol' time. Also, I told Dr. L uther that I got a boob job, so if he looks really disappointed when I come in Monday looking all ... well, normal ... you guys know why.
Today I got Mrs. S hipley to not mark me present, to not make me take the essay test that everyone else was taking, and to let me just leave school 10 minutes into the period. I should totally have surgery more often. This is awesome. And everyone is calling and visiting and bringing me things to entertain me - I didn't even get this much attention last week when I was genuinely sick and suffering and in pain! This week, I have percocet!! How bad off do you guys really think I am?!? But yeah, seriously gonna have a wicked awesome scar. And right now it's this angry looking gash and I feel all tough-biker-chick and whatnot. Ben got to see it and he agrees. Also, them doctor people have some sort of gas that makes you act like you're drunk, and my mother was not particularly amused. I was, though.
Wow, percocet and naked mud wrestling in one entry ... Google's going to have a heyday with that one.
You know what's fun? Answering questions with one-word answers when clearly more information is required. Witness:
Ben'sphone: ringAnd on and on. Dude, what's a friend to do? I was just protecting him from his past mistakes! And, okay, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that we went to see Hitch tonight because Ben REALLYREALLYREALLY wanted to see it, but he totally did. And? I loved it. We are the masters of mocking movies, and we actually were pretty restrained tonight. I am sure our fellow audience members enjoyed that, as they so rarely have the chance to hear the movie if the brain twins are in the house. Yes, we could hold conversations without actual dialogue, but it's more fun out loud.
BenlookingatcallerID: YOU answer it.
Joy: Hello?
******: Hello?
[silence]
******: Um, is this Ben's phone?
Joy: Yes.
[silence]
******: Oh! Is this his sister?
Joy: No.
[silence]
Anyways, through our extensive research over the past several days (borderline-obsessive viewing of The OC and then tonight's screening of Hitch), we have determined that pop culture lies to the people by showing lots of hot girls initiating kisses with lots of guys, many of them notsohot. Ben says this never happens. I can't help but mostly agree with him, especially when I remember the Infamous Cupcake Debacle of '03. C'mon, guys, it's not Hollywood; you're going to have to work a little bit. But anyways, say what you will about that movie, it has inspired me to my new life goal - purchasing a European country with pretty people and good skiing. Like, for instance, Sweden. So, Ben and I are going to buy Sweden when we become millionaires with our degrees in economics from UVa and possibly MIT, and then once we've mastered running a country, we'll add a nice little island in the Mediterranean Sea. If you're nice, I'll let you visit.
Stealth Thong!!
To the one with all the compliments - you make my day, every day. To the one who shares my brain - I know you'll always be there when I come back down. It's been a really nice week.
I bet you can't.
