Wednesday, October 22, 2008


You know you don't have anything to talk about when you talk about getting omelets at an on-campus cafeteria. "Its like a tradition now," said the painfully boring freshman. "I bet you get the good one and I get the bad lady this time," said his mind-numbingly dull freshmen friend.
Look. I'm a lover of the small things. I am. Bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils, watching dvd marathons of tv shows, orangeade, when a Muppet goes "ooh," the family portrait episode of Raymond, a text from a friend, mom's broccoli and rice casserole, a good packet, frozen mochachinos, listening to music while driving, laughing til I want to vomit, writing in my journal, Stewie and the tuba, making food for others, not acting my age, open windows and pumpkin candles in the fall, Slappy the Squirrel, a good pen, a good cup, a good hair day, a Christmas cactus, Black Friday shopping, Black Friday yelling and pushing, booing someone out loud, a good hug, beef jerky, the Olympics, reality television, my planner, changing clothing styles, my phone, a good grade in grammar, Britney, hanging out with my fam, seeing a show, standing in the rain, scaring Lisa, tackling my roommate just cuz, Sharpee pens, a clean apartment, cleaning the apartment, watching a movie alone, watching You've Got Mail, which brings me back to bouquets of freshly sharpened pencils.
See, its the little things.
Add writing this to the list.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

All my fruit.

Everyone has a pre-test ritual. For some, they walk over to the class, reading through their notes for one last glance. For some, they get coffee or soda. Some people don't have a specific ritual for tests, thus not having one becomes their ritual.
But I saw a pre test calm down today. First, it was a midterm for Advanced English Grammar. Awful. So, I'm silent, I don't have anything to say. People around me are talking about how hard this class is. Blah blah blah. Then I look over and this girl who is very quiet in class is getting herself back to center. Like, doing the hand motions to bring herself to a very centered place.
So I keep watching because, lets face it, that's good stuff. She did the big breath and exhale and when she exhaled, she pushed her hands down toward her lap, thus pushing the stress down toward her legs. That's a good place for stress apparently.
She closed her eyes and brought her hands to the center of her chest, again pushing them toward her lap. This time, her hands stopped on the desk and she whispered, what I am guessing was, a prayer. She opened her eyes and gave herself a slight smile, and that was it.
Our russian Advanced English Grammar prof walked in, handed our our exams, and over the next hour, my brain turned to jello, you know, the gross kind. The kind where you can see fruit floating in it. All my fruit was floating in my jello after that exam.
I didn't get to ask her if her ritual helped her out or not. I'm hoping that my ritual of looking over my notes while I watched Gossip Girl was a good idea.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Nothin but a song in my heart

So I'm listening to Elvis. He's singing about a Ghetto. I love this song. I mean it. I really do. That and Suspicious Minds. Those songs are my favorite Elvis songs. Sure, I am fond of all of them, but those are the ones that I love the most.
Tonight, one of my friends said that if she had been alive when Elvis was popular, she would have had such a crush on him. So I got to thinking. If Elvis were here, and I could ask him anything, what would I ask?
"Elvis. Can I call you that? Or should it be Mr. Presley? Oh. Okay. Cool. Elvis it is. Well, I just have one question for you, if that's alright? Great. Okay. My question is: Why bananas? Right. In the peanut butter. Why bananas?"
That's honestly what I would ask him. It may be strange, but that's what I want to know.
What if I met Marilyn Monroe?
"Ms. Monroe. You are so beautiful and an inspiration to women. Your full figured look is such a great addition to the pop culture landscape. In about forty years, America Ferrera is going to do the same thing, except that she's not blond and her name sounds like the title of a car. Oh stop. I'm not that funny. Okay. My question is: What do you know?"
You know she knew something about JFK. He had her offed. Totally true.
My question for JFK? "What did Marilyn know?"
For sure.
Well, what about Lucy?
"First. Let me say you are hysterical. I think you're great and though you will destroy your voice and your health with cigarettes, I think you are wonderful. Okay. My question is: How much chocolate did you eat that day?"
Come on. You know that's the best episode and she must have been sick when it was over. Actually, my favorite episodes were the ones that involved musicals. When there was the dream and the song about "A McGuilicuddy is Here" and the one when they put on the musical for a fundraiser with the "Queen of the Gypsies" song? You know. "Gyp,Gyp,Gyp of the Gypsies?" When the checks were post dated? Those were my favorites.
I loved that episode of Saved by the Bell when they were rock stars too and it was all music. Zach had on that rockin green sequin jacket. "Friends Forever" is still quite the anthem. Its just my favorite episode of that show.
I love the shows with music in them. More shows should incorporate singing. Pushing Daisies has. Its wonderful. Kristin Chenoweth singing "Hopelessly Devoted to You?" That's good TV. The Cosbys did it when they "sang" for their grandparents and they all had on those gloves. Laverne and Shirley sang to us at the beginning of each episode. Karen and Jack would sing on Will and Grace. Smelly Cat. Family Guy regularly breaks into song as did Animaniacs.
Which brings me back to Lucy. Well, Ethel actually.
"Viviane Vance. What a great name. I mean, its like you were born to live a life of stardom. Come on. You know that without you, that show would have been nothing. Its true. Ricky singing? Not funny. Ricky singing with you and Lucy pretending to be chorus girls. That's comedy. I mean it. Your name was destined to be written on the pages of television history. Its just perfect. You're welcome. Well, my question for you is: What's your real name?"

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Great Texts

What I should have titled this is: "Mass Texts."
I know that we all send them. We have a great idea or thought and then we send the same text to a bunch of people. Or when we are making plans, we send the same text to five people. Whatever. It's not a big deal. Or is it?
Why send a mass text to a ton of people that you don't even really care about. Like, when people send mass texts on Christmas or New Years. But come on. Do you really mean that? Do you really mean it when fifty people get the same text from you at the same time?
My favorite thing is when people that you don't talk to anymore send out the mass text and somehow, you make the cut. What did I do to make the cut?
What does anyone ever do to make the cut? And do I really want to be cut in with the rest of that? I don't think I do.
So cut me out. I've already done my part of cutting out you.

(This message brought to you by I.B.Inc. International Bitterness Incorporated.)

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

I Think I Can

It's no secret that I love television. That's a fact. But last night, I was able to experience television.
I was able to go to the So You Think You Can Dance tour, and experience the live version of what I spent the summer watching. It was wonderful. Afterwards, we even met all of the dancers. Again, wonderful.
There was something magical about the collision of television and real life. It wasn't just something on TV anymore. They were actual people that I was hugging and taking pictures with. They were people that we saw do the dances that we loved. It was like I was inside the television set and it was all happening around me. And it was wonderful.

It was only a day before, when I announced that I was most interested in working in television in the future. I said it and when I did, I realized it was true. I had a moment with myself after that when I let it soak in. I mean, I would love to do it all, but there it was. My love and my passion. Spoken out loud. Who knows.
But there it is. The tour was wonderful and so was my epiphany.

Monday, October 13, 2008

No Pink.

At what point is something classic? Or vintage? When does something switch over from just being old to being classic?
We were in the car and Pink's first single came on the radio. "Ooh yeah! Classic Pink" was the comment that followed.
But when did something from less than 10 years ago become a classic?
I mean, I recognize that some things are instant classics. But Pink? Sorry. She's not a classic or vintage anything. Classic Madonna? Fine. Clasisic Janet, Sheryl Crow, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi...all are fine. But Pink? No.
Maybe Baby One More Time can be considered a classic now. Maybe Genie in a Bottle if you are feeling particularly nostalgic. But Pink? No.
Sorry girl. You might still be a rock star with your rock moves and all, but I'm left saying 'So What?'

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Your facebook status...

I find election years to be very funny. And irritating.
I think it's irritating when people make political commentary in their facebook statuses. I don't care what you think. I really don't care to see your stupidity broadcast across the internet.
And I think at the root of it, that is what I hate. I know that people get involved in politics and that's fine. Personally, I find it much more rewarding to get involved with television, but that's just me. I don't need your politics thrust on me by you trying to make a difference within your facebook profile. Do you want to make a difference? Then vote. Shut the hell up and vote.
I think that since I am on a college campus, this is something that is more relevant. I don't care about your opinions and I don't need it thrust into my face.
I will vote for who I want to vote for and I will do it for the reasons that are my own. I don't need to broadcast that. I don't need to tell the whole world what I think and why I think it. That's why I have a blog. I tell you what I think of stupid people and of television and movies...the things that really matter in this world.
So stop it. Stop proving how fundamentally stupid you are. Stop broadcasting the fact that you are an idiot, because if you don't, I am going to have to start calling you out on it. And it will hurt when I have to name names. Which I will. And no one wants that. We all know what happens in Gossip Girl when they start naming names. Big problems. Don't make me go all Serena on you.
You know you love me.


That's right. I'm going to war.
You know what? I don't have time for things to be stolen from me. I don't have time for some little know-it-all to come in and try to school me on things that I am clearly better at. Do you hear me? I don't have the time.
Or the patience. And while it's a virtue and all, I just don't have time for that. I don't need that virtue right now. What I need is a good sedative.
I'm declaring war against this problem. That's what I am calling her, my problem. And war will be waged and I will let you in on a little secret, I will not be defeated. She's never met someone like me and boy, will she be scared. You know that look that a cucumber gets when it sees a jar of vinegar? That's right. I'm gonna pickle her.
This is my public declaration. Like the Butter Battle Book, I will not be swayed by someone who butters the bottom of their bread rather than the top and you can go ahead and forget about a Sneetch who has three stars on their belly. They aren't better than me.
I'm waging war and don't you forget, an elephant's faithful one hundred percent.