Rough Day

So this Honeybaked Ham thing is working out quite nicely. It may have to, because I got two emails today leading me to believe that I will never have a job. Ever.

1. I got rejected from the DDD position as a Field Consultant, which I kind of expected because I kind of lost the heart for it halfway through, and filled it out because what the hell. I'm not too terribly upset by it, except that...

2. Kraig Kann emailed me back today saying that GOLF CHANNEL is on a hiring freeze.


I am unemployable and inconsolable.

So far, so good

I got selected for Alternative Spring Break to Boston! It's going to be cold, but at least it'll be a great time. My "try everything because you're a senior and when the hell else will you get to do this kind of thing" plan so far is going pretty damned well. I got into The Vagina Monologues. I got selected for ASB. I am pretty happy about both developments.

The case of TVM seems to be a pretty fun bunch of girls, so I'm looking forward to getting to know all of them, and then immediately after that's over, it'll be time to turn over to my ASB Trip.

Then, it'll be time for spring quarter craziness! :D

...For now, it's finals week, and I'm going to a bar. No worries, all I have tomorrow is to turn in a paper (which is done) and proctor an exam for the Communication class that I "TA."

Holler?

Follow-Up

We have our first cast meeting for the Vagina Monologues tomorrow. I don't know how this is going to go. Everyone I know that auditioned got it, so I feel less excited about making the cast. Maybe everyone I know is just really talented. Including me. Right.

When I said that Mechanic is married, I want to clarify. I suggested the auto shop to a sorority sister, and she went, and saw...a ring. I did not go up there and ask him out, so for those of you hoping for an incredibly hilarious story, I am sorry to disappoint.

Also, I have not been taking Lexapro (for those of you not in the know, it is my amazing anti-depressant. My happy pill. Whatever, I love it and am not ashamed of my depression) lately. By "lately" I mean "for a full month," largely because mom was under the impression that Kate and I were covered under Tim's insurance, and we ended up not being, so when dad's insurance lapsed, Kate and I were no longer covered. At all. Tim was told about a month ago that, basically, they are downsizing the building inspection department (due to 1.buildings not needing to be inspected, because 2.no one is building anything, and therefore 3.no one is buying permits, so 4.there is no source of income or way to pay the inspectors). In other words, if Tim keeps his job, he will get a pay cut.

So I've been reluctant to fill the prescription at full price because I know that it's a rough time for mom and Tim. Mom yelled at me for not filling it (I didn't really tell her my reasoning), but I still don't feel right about it.

That said, I finally got the prescription filled for mom's sake Sunday when I returned to Columbus and have been taking it since, but it takes a good two weeks to get back into my system. So, the two days that I have been on it are doing virtually no good. And this is a bad time to not have Lexapro. It's stress season around these parts, and I would like to lift a bit of the finals-induced anxiety.

Then, yesterday, I got a very vague email that I am going to be even vaguer about, and I am kind of freaking out. I know it will be fine, that I'm filling in the gaps with things that I shouldn't, but not having Lexapro is a major issue already with finals, and now this... Again, cognitively I know that it's going to be okay, but this isn't really a cognitive issue.

...And now, off to get hot apple cider with Alex, who seems to be deciding to text me lately.

Thanksgiving, Among Other Things

Thanksgiving weekend is terrible because it's so wonderful and you know it lasts for all of four days before you have to return to the workload. And the worst part is, it's more work than usual. So here I am, superstressed post-Thanksgiving, having just been given a taste of what is to come.

But, all the same, Thanksgiving pies and broccoli cheese casserole and delicious things were all very delicious. I effing love Thanksgiving. Minus the "itis" you get afterward (Thank you, Patrick). I also realized that I kind of hate turkey. It's always dry I feel like. Even when people say it's really good, it tastes dry to me. So I eat lots of sides and am made even more happy.

Friday night I hung out with Mom, Kate, Thomas, and the Gavin girls. AND THEIR BABIES. Kyleigh is positively adorable. Brooklyn is kind of a bad kid, but she's cute also. And, you know, she has pierced ears, so Kate automatically thinks she's THAT. MUCH. MORE. beautiful, right?

Immediately after dinner Friday, Kate, Thomas, and I went to Loveland to celebrate with Thomas's Family. Talk about a change of scenery. My families are, on the one side, alcoholics, and on the other....well, I saw my grandmother take a sip of wine and I was a a little taken aback. So, playing flip cup (loudly) with the cousins is atypical. And we also had an aunt and an uncle playing along with. Craziness, I tell you. I guess that's how a lot of families do it, but I have these images of my childhood when we all sat at one table, my grandparents, Anne and Steve, Vickie and Jim, and me, Kate, and Dad. It was quiet and nice. And now there's all kinds of "crazy" with Eric and Kit and Ender and Destiny and Thomas...we spilled onto a second table.

...But we're still not playing flip cup in the garage, so I guess my definition of a crazy holiday is quite different than most.

Anyway, we got up Saturday morning and tasted cakes for Kate's wedding. It was a lot of cake. We had a piece of Cheesecake, then we went and had samples of like 6 different cakes and they were SO GOOD.

I highly recommend cake tastings for all those who ever have the opportunity. I really liked the pumpkin cake, but it's unfortunately inappropriate for a May wedding. Lame.

On a side note, I hate group projects.


And in late breaking news:

THE MECHANIC IS MARRIED.

Happy 120th Birthday!

It's the real Founder's Day... Thanksgiving Eve, 1888, Boston Bell Tower (It was actually November 27, so I guess I could just as easily celebrate tomorrow). Sarah Ida Shaw and Elenor Dorcus Pond embraced and said "Tri Delta is founded!" It's cool to be a part of something that has been around and roughly the same for 120 years. I know I'm overly cheesey, but like I said, it is very exciting.

Anyway, today I went to work at HoneyBaked Ham. My job is to show people ham. They tell me, "I have to feed 10 people," and I say, "You'll want 7 pounds of ham," and then I go get a 7 pound ham, and then I unwrap the foil, show them the front, then the side, then rewrap it and bag it, then point to a cash register. It's aaaaaaaawesome. Whatever, it's easy work and pays okay.

Now the entire staff (essentially) is going to Hooter's and I'm going with. The best part? I have a DD, so I'm going to drink a Blue Moon or two. Or... more?

I am feeling a general lack of motivation as far as school goes. I have a LOT of work to do this weekend, and at this motivation level, it will get done laaaaaaaate Sunday night and on into Monday. Woof. I cannot wait for this quarter to be over; none of my classes are really exciting me anymore. I discussed my course in postmodernism and it's lack of anything one might call "sense," but my Communication classes are insane amounts of busy work. I mean, they're easy, but it's just a matter of doing the work--which I don't really want to or feel the need to do. That's kind of a problem in week 8 of 10.

In other (very exciting) news, I got the dress and the shoes, and I am still obsessed with the shoes but could go either way on the dress. I need to decide quickly, however, because ModCloth.com's return policy is kind of strict. So, I need Kate to decide for me if it's a keeper.

Kyleigh (my stepsister Kerrie's 13 month old daughter--Kerrie is married to Greg, who manages the HoneyBaked Ham at which I work) is here and possibly the most adorable child of all time. She's having "wind-down time" at the moment, so I am unable to cuddle her and read to her and play fridge magnets with her (she looooves magnets!), but I did get some time with her yesterday. Babies are incredible. They're so functional and have so much understanding of the world, but can't even speak! THOUGH! She does say "CAT" when she sees my fatso catso, which is possibly the greatest thing I've ever seen. I wish my first word were "Cat." Mom says she thinks it was "Kate," so I'll pretend that it was actually cat. HA.

Is it normal that it bothers me that mom doesn't remember what my actual first word was, she's only kind of guessing? Dad, any insight?

So, many of my friends are on "team mechanic," and I'm torn. I guess I must explain. I had an issue with my axles on my car, and I'd known for a while I needed to get at least the driver side one fixed. So I've gotten several estimates, and they were all around $450 or so. So I finally just sucked it up and took in my car and mentally spent the $450. I'm sure my father will be very excited about that, as he was terrified by the noise my axles were making in August.

Well, I dropped it off at a shop about 3.5 blocks from the sorority house and about 6 blocks from my class that I was off to. I told him to check out the passenger axle and let me know if he thinks it's bad enough to warrant fixing.

Then he insisted on driving me to class. He said, "it's a long walk [again, about 6 blocks], and it's very cold outside." That last part was true, so I let him drive.

He called later and said that yes, it definitely was, but he felt bad upselling me, so he'd do it for $90. INSTEAD OF $220! When I heard him say $90, in my head, it was a $30 discount, then I later realized... no, that's $130. Holy. Crap. He told me he'd have it to me later that day.

He calls again later that day and said that in removing my axle, he noticed that the axle was fused to the bearing and that I had to get a new bearing, but he'd only charge me list price, no labor, so only about $40. Which for a car part is pretty cheap, though I'm not sure how much that particular one generally cost, he again didn't charge me any labor for its installation. He also apologized profusely because I couldn't pick up my car, despite promising it to me. I had told him when I handed over my keys that I needed it by Tuesday of this week so I could get home and didn't care about it any earlier than that. He goes, "Yeah...I know...but...I just feel bad, because I told you you could come in and now you can't."

Then he called me again the next day and said that the valve cover gaskets (?) were also broken and that I shouldn't bother replacing them, but I should be sure to check my oil level constantly. These are two apparently related facts. It would be around $400 to fix it, and he told me it wasn't worth it (this guy owns his own business, and I'm pretty sure if he told me to replace it I would have, or at least asked Tim about it). He also replaced my blown tire (another long and involved story not worth telling) and changed my oil so that adding the new oil from time to time would be more...something mechanic-y. I finally got to pick up my car.

I spent an hour to an hour and a half there talking to him, and I had him look at my shifter that I told him sometimes sticks. He fixed it. He has his bachelor's degree in Criminology from OSU, he's getting his associates in Automobile Maintenace (mostly to claim that he has the coursework), and he wants to work for a car insurance company doing fraud investigation.

..He graduated from OSU in 2006. So...he's young and cute. But if I ask him out, I will have to ask him out. Which means going to the car shop, batting eyelashes embarrasingly, and looking like a doofus. But, he's young and cute (and flirting? I'm really bad at guessing, but he saved me at least $200, and it seems a bit blatant). Patrick says maybe he thinks I'll tell my sorority sisters about him if he's nice. Which I have. Mechanic even said, "you referred people to me before you got your car back? That's very trusting of you." I told him that as long as my tires don't pop off on I-70, I'll be satisfied. He said he almost put that on my final bill but it's a legal document and he didn't want to cause confusion if I have to complain.

Final cost of the two axles, new bearing, oil change, and the spare tire, plus very typically expensive labor? $450.

Oh, and today on my way to work I found out that he also miraculously turned off my check engine light that I was under the impression is constantly on.

So...should I suck it up and ask him out? Where do I take him? Am I in 8th grade?

Anyway, I'm about to go eat wings at the dirtiest place on earth. Holler?

I'm good.

So we had a "risk management" speaker tonight, which is usually a speaker about alcohol or stalking. We did have one once where we had the fire department come in and smoke out our house and we had to crawl through the living room. Tonight, though, this woman who was a Tri Delta talked about her daughter, an Alpha Chi Omega, who was raped and then committed suicide.

It was odd, because the woman was kind of funny. And you're hearing this terribly gory story and she reads this emotional poem her daughter wrote about rape, then she'd talk about something else, then she'd make a joke or something, and it was just incredibly unsettling. She was very good though, and I am glad I went.

Until the end, when she started talking about how about 40% of women who are raped have sex with their attacker again. And she asked, "Why might that be?" And there are a variety of answers, including, "Because a lot of times, rape occurs in a relationship." And I wanted to sink into my chair. I almost had a panic attack; I almost ran out of the auditorium, but I held it together as best I could. Which wasn't that well--I was visibly shaking but I'm not sure anyone noticed.

I guess it was appropriate, then, that I met Alex at Starbucks after (he also went to the speaker). He was the first person I ever told about my experiences in that relationship, and a large part of how I got over it. It's difficult to write about, knowing that my father (!) reads this, but it is what it is. I feel I have gone a long way to recover. If Tri Delta is the reason I got out of the situation, Alex is the reason I am still alive.

The speaker also talked about what it is that a friend in that situation should do, if someone tells them they've been sexually abused, and to a tee, he did that. I will always owe him that. And I cannot end a friendship that has already given me so much. So, while Kate makes an interesting point about the amount of effort I am putting in, and dad makes an interesting point about Cosmo magazine (?!?), I really am incapable of cutting this one out of my life.

Also, Alex texted me today (thank you, Patrick) about getting Brennen's (the local coffee shop, which ended up being closed). It was nice to see him. And talk to him, for real. It was also nice because he could tell the presentation we had both just come from shook me up a bit, and was willing to talk about it just enough to where I got it off my chest but I still avoided crying in public. You can't buy friends like that.

...even if you think that my sorority membership is "buying friends."

Candy, God, and Text Messaging

I went to church for the second time in all of my college career today. I mean, I go when I'm at home, but I haven't really gone since I've been here. It was nice, especially since lately I feel very off-center. I left feeling really great, but then I got home and stuff just got weird again.

Regardless, fun story from church:
At the beginning of the service, they have a youth message where all the kids come up and the youth pastor tells a Bible story. Today they were talking about King Solomon, and the pastor said, "And God said to Solomon, anything you need or want, all you have to do is ask!" (Gasping from the kids). "What would you ask for if you could ask for anything at all?" And this very young girl shouts, very loudly, "CANDY!!!!"

Amazing.

The thing I like about the Presbyterian Church is that they are so positive. Presbyterians don't harp about sin or Jesus dying. I know that this is a fundamental part of the Christian faith, but so is Jesus' life. And I feel like there is much more to learn from His life than from His death. And I like those lessons, and I feel like a lot of denominations spend more time talking about His death than His life, and miss out on a lot of good parts.

Today's sermon was entitled "Life Before Death," and was about how we should all celebrate our lives while we have the opportunity to live them. He encouraged us to make lists of 10 things we want to achieve before dying and how we should start today with the first of them. That's the Presbyterian Church to me. Celebrate life! Thank God!

That said, I had a very rough day. I'm texting Alex at the present moment telling him that I can't be in a friendship where I feel like he doesn't care. He told me not to take it personally, he's not the type to reach out to people. I know that, but is that my fault? Should I be responsible for maintaining that friendship when he's just "not the type" to call me first? It's like when people are like, "Oh, that's just the way she is..." and my response to that is, "Well, great, but does that mean I have to like her?" (Kim Prather circa 8th grade comes to mind).

I mean, don't get me wrong, I do like Alex and I would like to be friends with him, but I can't be friends with someone who functions in friendship the way that he does.

I hate rambling about Alex, I feel like it makes me sound pathetic.

Celebrate Life! Thank God!

Maybe Cosmo was right, accidentally

I went to Smith Hall on Mirror Lake Night to witness some of the chaos, and ran into Alex's little sister on the elevator. It was really hard seeing her, mostly because I thought for a very long time I would become a part of her family. I wanted that.

I have come to the realization that I can't be friends with him, not because I can't be friends with my ex-boyfriend (sorry dad, I just refuse to accept that answer), but because he is a terrible friend.

I sent him an email asking how his GRE went and how the fam is, and how life in general is going, and he sent back an incredibly awkward email. He doesn't call; I only ever see him or talk to him if I contact him first...It's exhausting. I just sort of feel like, you know, if you don't care enough to call me, what happens when I don't make the effort? What happens if I neglect to call you? Are we still friends, even if I haven't talked you in months? Would you let it get to that point?

Patrick thinks I just don't understand how Alex functions in friendship. It's not that I'm comparing our friendship to our relationship, it's that I'm comparing our friendship to my needs in a friendship. I need to feel like I'm not the only one that cares about the friendship at all.

The thing about it is, why am I maintaining this friendship anyway? I feel like he needs it more than I do, and yet...he just lets it go. For weeks. I'm not sure if that's a terrible thing to say, but seriously, in the city of Columbus alone, I live in a house with 40 girls, about half of whom call me on a regular basis, about 2/3 of whom know Alex well enough to know how devastated I am about the whole thing, and he has...Joe. So am I being condescending when I say he needs the friendship more than I do? Maybe. But maybe I should stop worrying about it anyway and just get some sleep.

I just don't like that my only other option with him is to cut him out of my life completely. Can't there be another answer? Like, you know, him calling me?

Um, Obsessed

Ok, so I also overspent a bit on a dress and shoes "For Eric's Bar Mitzvah," but more so "for me to own for the rest of my adorably well-dressed life."


Tell me what an incredibly good decision it was, please?

Mirror Lake Night

Oh goodness.

It's Mirror Lake Night, which is the night on which Buckeyes run to a lake roughly the size of a living room in their skivvies (or less) and jump in. Regardless of, you know, snow. This requires an intense amount of booze and stupidity. I did it last year, and this year I decided that once was enough. Mostly due to, you know, snow.

I really only found one good picture (love the tag on there), and it doesn't really begin to describe the scene. The sheer magnitude of people is just incredible. Like I said, I did it last year, and I still was astonished by the number of people willing to jump into a freezing cold (very nearly literally) lake just to be a part of a tradition. It's indescribable.



That's the kind of tradition-lovers we are here at Ohio State. GO BUCKEYES.

(My roommates are very drunk at the moment. Kelly is singing me "Have I told you Lately that I Love You?" Surprisingly, she knows more words than just "Have I told you lately that I love you?" so, that's pretty impressive.)

On an entirely different note, I made the cast of The Vagina Monologues! I'm very excited, especially since two of my sorority sisters also made it. My monologue is "I was there in the room," which is about a woman who is in the room as her daughter gives birth.

It's funny because during auditions, you had to pick two monologues to read from, and I chose two entirely different ones, and one of the women goes, "Can you do 'I was there in the room'? I think I'd really like to see you do that one." Holler.

My sorority sister is "My Angry Vagina." By sorority sister, I mean Kelly, the same girl STILL singing to me.

Oh goodness.

Field Consultant

My application to be a field consultant is in the inescapable blue box outside the Tri Delta house. It is irretrievable. No, really, I tried once.

(not a love letter)

Date Party

As it turns out, Brad Reed was a fantastic choice.

As soon as we got to Callahan's, I tripped over this raised stage thing that I totally did not see, 100% sober. And I have a very painful bruise on the top of my foot roughly the size of Texas. And if I flex my feet it hurts. It was kind of comical, though, because I tripped over the stair and threw my drink essentially across the floor, and one of my heels went flying off and Brad had to go get it. I'm not sure how many people saw that one, but I'm sure they got some amount of enjoyment out of it.
Also, my pointer is sore swollen and I don't really know why.

After Date Party, we went to the O and drank beers and talked about GOLF CHANNEL, law school, and USG. I told him he made the right choice. He talked about how hard it was and how he felt like he had let me down. I told him the universe let him down and he shouldn't worry about me at all.

Upon returning, I drunk IMed my father.

Me: dad?!?!?!?!!!!!!!!
Dad: yes?

Dad: how was the date?
Me: I LOVE DADDY

Me: HE WAS FUN
Me: I AM DRUNK SAYUCE

Dad: i see.

Me: ahhhhhhhhhhha

Dad: sayuce?

Me: yopu know like hot saucr

Me: drunk sauce
Dad: ok. doesn't make sense to me, but hey, it's been a while since i was in college
Me: im glad if i live in orlando i will be close to daddy thats yopu
Dad: i'd like that
Me: evn though i hate orland o ttoursists
Me: so mny of them
Dad: traffic is miserable, but hey, no state income tax.

Me: how is erics girlllll?
Dad: haven't grilled him yet.
Me: yay florida another swing stat e my voyte still counts i love it
Me: ok

Me: i have to go now
Dad: g'night.
Me: i love you soooo much daddy i miss living iwht you in florida beaches and daddy best summer ver
Me: and pool and weather miss you

Me: and also i miss [his address in florida]
Dad: me too. i'm glad we had the chance.
Me: #[apartment number]

Me: yessss

Dad: you can still visit.
Dad: or stay, if you haven't gotten a job by the summer.
Dad: i'd kick you out after a few months, though.

Then I proceeded to call him. HA.

All in all though, a great night with all kinds of crazy. I love it.

A photo of me and Brad:
(I'll try to find a suitable full-length photo as soon as possible, but the current ones are all of me doing the cactus, and... I mean... I'm not sure I want to post photos of the cactus on my blog...)

Tri Delta = Field Consultants and Date Parties

Every time I see the word PARTIES, I think of Pirates of Penzance. Only my father would know why, and it is entirely because he ruined me as a child.

Tonight is date party, and I'm currently putting off getting ready because I hate being ready early for this kind of thing. I sit around in my dress and get nervous about whether it looks right or if I should touch up my makeup just one more time, and fix my hair overmuch, even though it looked fine to begin with, thereby ruining the look altogether... yeah. So I'm blogging instead.

I'm taking Brad Reed, former head of the Reed/Dennis USG ticket... we were so going to win. It still kind of bothers me that we didn't run. We would have kicked ass, but I guess that's just the way life goes. But my dress is adorable and that's what's really important.

Also, we had a field consultant in for Tri Delta last weekend, as I mentioned earlier, and things went well. And I sort of flirted with the idea of applying for it again (I thought about it quite a bit last year, but thought it might be a bad idea since it's only a one year appointment and pay is low). So...I am in the process of applying to be a DDD FC. (Holler.) Also, our chapter alumna advisor applied and got the job, but ended up turning it down because she got a big kid job at United Way. She said that if nothing else, the application process is really fun and worth doing. And since I have no idea whether I am a viable candidate for any position at GOLF CHANNEL, I suppose I should apply for anything and everything that comes my way. Hence, Field Consultant application. Here's to Tri Delta!

It might actually be awesome. You get to travel the country (and Canada!) and see all these schools and local Tri Delta chapters...I think I would love it. So I guess we'll see how it turns out.

Barack Obama

It's kind of cliche of me to write about Barack Obama right now, but I don't care. I feel like I had a part in this, as silly as it sounds. For the first time in my life, I voted for a president and for the first time in my life I am excited about who our president actually is (my first political memory is of Monica Lewinsky...). I feel like this is my generation's president, and my generation's time. I am incredibly excited.

Of course, I celebrated by going to the bar with a sorority sister after watching his speech and having way too much fun. When we walked outside (in Obama shirts, of course), people were shouting and cheering and all kinds of excited. People in Obama pins and shirts were high-fiving us and chanting his name...just incredible.

And by the way, GOOD LORD that man can speaaaaaaaaaak! I misted up a bit; I even got goosebumps watching Hardball with Chris Matthews today when they showed like a 30 second clip (the part about "I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your president too"). He's just incredible. I'm so excited.

ALSO. The New York Times today had a special section on elections, and the front picture, in full color, above the fold is....RABBIT HASH, Kentucky. Which is about 10 minutes from my house. It was a feature on a bunch of different polling places, and Rabbit Hash holds theirs in the Rabbit Hash General Store, so it was kind of a funny image. They also (though this wasn't featured in the NYT) elect an animal for mayor every year. This year a dog won out. There were 16 candidates, and one of them was human. He came in 15th place. Nice.

In other news, I have a midterm tomorrow for which I can't figure out if I'm over-prepared or under-prepared. I guess I'll figure that one out soon enough, eh?

Happy Founder's Day, Tri Delta!

I love Founder's Day. Technically, Tri Delta was founded on Thanksgiving Eve, 1888, but we celebrate annually the first Monday of the month of November.

I don't know, it's something about the fact that there are 80 year old women who make it in to celebrate something they started over 50 years ago. Something about the fact that I've never met these women, but they are my sisters. Something about the fact that they heard the same exact ritual I did Lord knows how many years ago. Old Tri Delta women are fabulous. (Love you, Nanny :D)

Tomorrow is election day. I am kind of excited about it; I can't wait to watch 5,000 hours of Chris Matthews and Tom Brokaw and the MSNBC crew (liberal that I am) talk politics, talk results. I am such a geek sometimes it makes my head hurt.

I additionally realized (which I intellectually knew but I guess I never admitted it to myself) that my Jags provided the Bengals their FIRST WIN OF THE SEASON. I give up on football entirely. Go Redlegs? Sigh, I guess I need to just give up on sports altogether. We'll see how the golf season goes, but at this rate I may just need to live a sports-less life.

I also just realized I only took one earring out after Founder's Day, which means I've been walking around with one giant pearl in for some amount of time, like some sorority pirate. I'm pretty sure I need to go to bed. I EVEN WENT IN PUBLIC LIKE THIS.

Oh, Jaguars, you are such a disappointment.

My EFFING Jaguars lost to the Bengals, just a week after losing to the Browns. How does this happen, honestly?

So my weekend was totally out of control crazy and I don't even know where to begin. I don't know what it is, maybe being newly single or maybe the crazy Halloween atmosphere... I don't know, but I feel like I need to get my act together and I'm not sure how to do that.

Also, I kissed William (about 6 years late) and despite the fact that I can choose whether I see him ever again, I still feel awkward about it. (As a background, I took this guy to Sadie's junior year and he really never got over me to my knowledge. We kind of became friends but there was that weird element to it that kept us from ever getting close.) So I ran into him at OU and I guess it was just one of those things. It's funny, our timing has never been right--I'm star-crossed with a guy whose surname is Montague. Only me, right? (Well, and Miss Capulet too I suppose.)

Things are so weird. So weird.

I currently am wearing a crazy awful floral skirt, an I <3 NY shirt, a Hard Rock-Baltimore hat, a Walt Disney World Fanny Pack, and a scrunchie. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

More on that later.

Postmodernism, Voter Pledges, and Hot Apple Cider

Today I did an extraordinary amount of nothing. Postmodernist authors, apparently, would call that "productivity," which is to be contrasted with very little amounts of nothing, which they might call "laziness."

...This is my way of reaching out. My English class makes me want to kill myself. I guess I'm too much a modernist to enjoy this course at all. I mean, in Gatsby, the God-forsaken green light meant something. I like that. I like trying to figure out where all the pieces fit and why everything was written just so, as opposed to some alternate way, and why the character's name is what it is, because the author couldn't possibly have just named him George to name him George, it all means something!

(Yes, I realize I just made fun of my entire life philosophy and everything I as an English major stand for in writing that. I also realize that my life is a joke, which I think is the one thing that makes me marketable in the real world.)

Aside from reading nonsensical rants by authors considered geniuses by the literarily "enlightened," I am dedicating way too much time to OSU Votes. Today I stood outside for two hours asking people to sign pledges saying that they will vote. I obtained a total of 17 pledges. This, sadly, was more than the other two girls with whom I was standing outside in the cold weather, sans gloves. Yay Ohio, it's supposed to be 60+ on Friday.

But seriously, 17 pledges in 2 hours? If I didn't know these OSU Votes people, and I wasn't being harassed with phone calls on the regular, I would tell myself this is entirely ridiculous.

Fun facts: people that sign pledges to vote are 10% more likely to do so. If a person they know contacts them about voting, they are 15% more likely to vote.*

After learning that exciting bit of information, I went home and very nearly just went to bed. This is more exhausting than reading Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler, which, I kid you not, starts with the sentence "You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino's new novel, If on a winter's night a traveler." I couldn't make this shit up. Fucking meta-fiction.

(The back says Italo Calvino "...shows that the novel is capable of endless mutations." Is that even desirable?)

So this is why my life is what it is. Plus the heat isn't on in the house yet, because we have boiler system and we have to have some guy who knows about boiler systems come out and turn the boiler system on. The other fun thing about the boiler system is that once a boiler system is turned on, the heat is on. Forever. Well, until you pay that same some guy who knows about boiler systems to come out again and turn the boiler system back off. So... since the appointment for the some guy to come turn our boiler system on is set for tomorrow, when it is 60+ on Friday, our lovely and wonderful boiler system will still be running, heating our lovely and wonderful house.

Regardless, it's cold now and I'm typing this in gloves, which leads to about 8,000 typos a minute, thus increasing my typing time (along with decreasing the likelihood that I will ever read Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler). I'm also fighting drafty windows and a lack of heat by drinking an average of one Hot Apple Cider a day, depleting my funds but making me very happy. When I say "an average of," what I actually mean is "at least." It's not a cheap addiction, but at least it doesn't cause any (known) long-term effects.

On a side note, we have a Field Consultant from Tri Delta's executive office coming this weekend. That's right folks, we're going to be judged on a whole host of criterion, including but not limited to hospitality and sisterhood, on one of the biggest drinking weekends of the year. Couldn't she have come for Michigan weekend? (Totally kidding, I think.) At least by then the heat will be on (or at least I hope so; otherwise I'm moving out).

We also have a girl in from the University of Alabama staying at our chapter house while she volunteers for John McCain. Yeeeeeesh. You're staying in a house full of women while you volunteer for a man that voted against the Ledbetter Fair Pay Act?

At least she's a nice girl. At Alabama, they have TG's twice a week(!). We asked, "every week?" and she goes, "well, sometimes we don't have one on Tuesday, but for sure every Thursday." These people also go to school. Not that I personally don't drink twice a week, but TG's twice a week? Are these girls passing their classes?

*This is the kind of thing they say to me to guilt me into freezing my ass off for a total of 17 pledges. When I asked one girl if she had voted yet, and she said "no, but I'm going to," I asked her to sign the pledge and she asked, "Why?!" God damn it.

P.S. Kate--because of the frequency of TG's at Alabama, they have sweet themes, like 00Delta, where they dressed like Bond and Bond girls, and War and Peace, where they dressed like Army Guys and nurses. Just makes you wish you were a Tri-D at 'Bama, doesn't it? Go ahead and put on your radical feminist hat and tell me about how you won't pierce your baby's ears, I'm ready for it.

For those of you that have never met Kate, she once described herself in an email as "your feminazi bonerkiller sister." (G-search that one, Kate, I think you'll be proud of yourself.)

"Everyone Looks Weird in the Wintertime"

I guess I haven’t really written anything on what has been saving my sanity of late, Tri Delta.

I met with Stephanie Gent for the Penn State Game at Panini’s, and heard all about her totally fab life in DC. When I told her about Alex, she responded with stories of her and Gene the Jew, who decided they couldn’t marry because (among other reasons, but chiefly) she loved Jesus. She said, “it totally ruined my life, then I got over it.” I mean, she was drunk, but that’s great stuff. I miss her.

Steph is, of course, the reason I became a Tri Delta in the first place; she taught me what it meant to be Greek outside of the drinking and the boys and all the craziness.

I feel like Tri Delta got me through everything, and I don’t know where I’d be without the girls in this house (past and present). I got out of an abusive relationship my sophomore year because they taught me my value, and it is the girls in this house pulling me out of my funk now. I recognize, of course, that I sound like a cheeseball, but I can’t help it. I know that I am in this house for a reason, and that I am not totally damaged because of their help.

Holler.

I mean...right?

I have turned into a waste of space, just for the record.

For the love, I am sitting here in the house (which doesn't have heat just yet...awesome) and not doing a list of assignments about a mile long. Also, it is a very dear friend's 21st tonight at midnight and I just may end up going out to buy her a booze. Totally unapologetically. (Don't worry too much daddy, I'm still doing just fine in school).

It's my senior year, right? Live it up. (And drink it down? Seriously.)

On a side note, I hung out with Alex most of the day today. It was kind of nice, but also kind of dissatisfying in that I wanted to hold his hand or kiss him and I know that he doesn't feel the same anymore. Ugh. But it is nice to talk to him because he understands me in a way that no one else really does; also, he doesn't roll his eyes when I tell him that I'm hanging out with him, unlike some of my sorority sisters.

Is it a bad idea to ask Alex to Tri Delta's Date Party? I feel like maybe it would have been fun, but Patrick tells me it would end in disaster. Hard to say, because now I've asked someone else. I did tell Alex that he absolutely must come to Formal next quarter and he did roll his eyes at that one. Oh, well, I'll break him down.

Is it even possible to be friends with this guy, with all the givens? I get mixed answers to that question, and I have a mixed feeling about my own answer. Parts of today were so natural, so platonic, but then we'd walk from one place to another and I just felt out of place. I don't know, I'd rather have him in my life as a friend than not at all I suppose.

I'll figure out where to go from here, right?

I mean...right?

New Beginnings

I don't even know where to begin on new beginnings. I'm actually in a really weird place in my life right now, just having broken up with a boy I thought I was going to marry (and even made jokes about marrying before we dated), and beginning my senior year at The Ohio State University.

I guess I have concerns, like the fact that I'm not sure how people meet one another out of college. In college, there's Facebook and everyone has mutual friends (often linked through Facebook) where you can get a kind of "background check" on guys you meet randomly. I realize I sound like a crazy person and/or a Lifetime Original Movie character screaming "my biological clock is ticking!!!" but legitimately, how am I ever going to meet someone?

Also, how long before I stop crying randomly in the middle of the day, or when I get drunk in front of Thomas Nye (oh, God, what a disaster). Thomas is marrying my sister in about 6 months, and I am terrified that I will never have my own wedding. I hear myself saying this, and again, I feel unreasonable in a big way, but I can't help it. He's wonderful in a big way (again, he took care of me in Larry's, so major points) and I just don't know if I'll find my own Thomas Nye. How long before I even feel comfortable dating again? How long until I'm over this?

My other major concern at this point is that as I begin the end of my collegiate career, I think my major was maybe a poor choice. Everyone says it doesn't matter what your major is anymore, you can do anything, but then I turn around and everyone says that a Bachelor's Degree is the new GED. Should I be concerned about being under-prepared for the real world? Really?

That said, I finally got the nerve to call Kraig Kann, host of GOLF CHANNEL's Sprint Post-Game Show, among other things, and he basically told me he'd shop my resume for me around the place. He also gave me a list of people to whom I should send additional copies. He seemed really invested, which I feel is weird given that he has, like, a life and stuff. Regardless, it was probably the greatest 20 minutes of my life, and I may have peed my pants a little. Then about 5 minutes later he called me back and told me he wanted me to talk to someone else because "she may have a lot more insight to offer." Incredible, yeah? I talked to Kelly Miller for quite some time as well, and am excited to see where this goes.

Nonetheless, it is really difficult to write a cover letter when you don't know to whom you are writing and there's no specific position for which you are applying. Quite the assignment, no?

But I am getting more sure that the GOLF CHANNEL is where I want to be, despite the difficulties with media and job security. I try to tell myself that Alex had nothing to do with me not wanting to work there--and I legitimately do believe that--but the timing with the turn around does seem a little odd. When we got serious, I kind of abandoned that dream, though that coincided roughly with my internship at NBC-4 and the 14 firings they laid out on my last day. And now he's gone and I've decided that I want to go back, though this coincides roughly with my trip to the Ryder Cup and the restoration of my passion for the game of golf. Good GOD that was an amazing tournament. Plus Hunter Mahan went undefeated, gotta like that.

Well I have a giant midterm tomorrow that is stressing me out, so. Study time? (Much more likely? Bedtime)