Urinary Tract Inflection.

It is zero degrees in the office right now. So cold. I also have to pee.

In high school Jamie told me that when I get cold, my bladder shrinks (as most things do in the cold) which is why I always have to pee when I'm cold. See, Jamie says stuff in a way -- maybe it's the tone he uses or the inflection of his voice -- that makes you think that he knows what he's talking about...but then when you say it back to yourself in your head you realize that it's total bullshit. I guess that's part of what makes him so charming.

But can anyone really tell me why I always have to pee when I'm cold?

Insomniac's Rant.

I know I've been extremely whiny lately and I promise it will be all over soon...but for now, I must rant.

I'm kind of depressed that I had to give my dead week up for yearbook. While most people head off to the beach or to exotic locales for a final, carefree week with their friends, I have been cooped up in my room, sitting in front of a computer screen. I have spent little to no time with my friends in our final days "together". Add on to that, the fact that I will spend very little time with them in the upcoming week for Senior Week since I have still further to go with the book.

I have been in various states of denial about the book over the past couple weeks. Sometimes I'm optimistic that it will come out great, and that it will be worth my time in the end to have a beautiful 270-paged labor of love. Most of the time I'm just bitter that I had to give up my Dead Week and Senior Week because for the most part, people are flakes.

Can you tell that I'm in the latter end of the spectrum right now? (That usually happens after the sun starts coming up and I still haven't been able to go to bed).

My goal in working so hard over dead week and not travelling was to get far enough in the book to feel comfortable and guilt-free enough to go to the big senior gala at Mt. Hope. I realized tonight that I will not make it. Not guilt-free anyway. Not only will the book not be anywhere near ready, but I would need to somehow find a formal dress in the time between now and Wednesday evening and Williamstown is in the middle of nowhere in terms of finding said item. Hopeless.

Of course, all is not lost: I'm happy with my finished sections of the book. I would go so far as to say that I'm in love with them. It's the other 100 pages that I worry about.

In case this post made you fear for my sanity and well-being, don't worry. I'm still happy and thankful for everything. I'm even grateful for the opportunity to undertake the challenge -- it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and I totally dig that. I just like to bitch about it every once and a while (read: A LOT). If you bump into me in the near future I might even be pleasant to be around...maybe.

Didja Miss Me?

Still alive. Not in a bad mood anymore. Still working on yearbook and about to get to the part that's really going to suck (read: what should have been done by people who are not me but who took off as soon as school let out).

So how've you been? I've been good. Saw Shrek 2 a few days ago with Jess and Lindsay. It was pretty good...although not as good as the first one. Still, not really a let down. I was worried for a little while.

In other news, I have been reading children books lately in order to build up my class library next year. Among these books were the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle series which I loved as a kid. Seriously, these books are probably the one thing I remember with perfect clarity about first grade. Or so I thought.

These books are awful! At least the first volume. For those of you who have never read the books, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle is a nice woman who lives in an upside-down house and loves children. Parents go to her for cures to their children's afflictions like "No-Wanna-Go-To-Bedders" and "The-Won't-Pick-Up-Toys" bug.

Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's cures generally consist of leaving the child alone for weeks and letting them do whatever they want until they get so tired or their room gets so messy, or they get so dirty that they want to be cured. Incidentally, all trips to Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle begin with at least the thought of spanking. And all the mothers are homemakers. And the extent of the father's role is to come home from work and administer the spankings.

Yes, I know the book is from the '50s but lordy, it give me the jibblies. Also, I think they're may be some not-so-subtle abstinence messages in there (not that abstinence is bad). An excerpt: "...when Dick brought out his bat and ball and mitts and the boys saw DICK'S BALL -- DON'T TOUCH! DICK'S BAT -- DON'T TOUCH!"...THIS IS DICK -- DON'T TOUCH!"

GO DICK GO!

My Own Personal Hell.

Was it Prometheus that had to push that giant boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down as soon as he was nearing the top?

That is what today has been like with pages 167-168 of the yearbook. This morning (meaning around 2am), my plans for that page were glorious. After one power surge my progress was a erased. No worries, I got back on the horse and got back to where I was in half the time. Happily saved my progress before going to bed...but being a total fool left the page open on my computer. Then there was a network shutdown when the main server room for the campus overheated (this was about 8am). Woke up having my work deleted. Never mind...it's a new day and I've done it a couple times...I can blaze through it.

[short power surge...deleted].

[computer freeze...deleted].

[network failure...deleted].

[reason for failure unknown...DELETED].

That's right. If you count last night's attempts, I've had to create this page a grand total of seven times. Good news is that on four of those seven times I could salvage parts of it before it got deleted. But that leaves the other three. The page has suffered and is no longer glorious. I just finished it as fast as I could this last time.

I may or may not have cried for the first time over yearbook today.

Peanut Butter Jelly with a Baseball Bat!

It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time.

Or maybe just Jelly.


Introducing Jelly.

Ashley needed someone to look after her pet rat and found it in Lambert -- namely Lindsay. But, since Lindsay isn't here I get to have a few short hours as the sole care provider for Jelly. Now I'm a full-fledged geek with a blog and a pet rat. At least her name isn't some weird Clingon character's name from Star Trek.

So, the story behind Jelly. When she was just a wee baby -- about a year ago -- she was owned by some guys down at the odd quad...who of course fed her beer and marijuana. At the end of the year, they "set her free" in the quad. Ashley found her cowering in a cinder block by the door to the dorm, waiting for the previous owners to come back and feed her. So Ashley rescued her and keep her as the entry pet.

She's pretty awesome. She actually comes to you if you set her on the ground and call her (aka: move your fingers around wildly or pretending you have food -- or marijuana -- in your hand). She also licks you if she likes you. She's like a wee dog. Awesome.

Jelly made my day better -- I almost don't mind that three of the spreads I was working on this morning just got erased. Almost.

More Jelly.


Jelly's Snout. (Notice her cute little rat paws.)


Jelly being fuzzier than normal.

It's really hard to get good pictures of a moving rat.

Panic Attack.

Ah! What have I been doing with my time?!?

I just found out that there is no way that I can work on the yearbook over the summer from the institute -- I would have to make frequent trips back to Williamstown. Meaning: I must finish the book in the next week and a half. Impossible. Must sucker someone into taking over once I graduate.

She's Alive.

...In case you were wondering.

So the meeting with the principal went well. He was really nice and made me excited about the fact that I will be a teacher so soon. I think there is a gigantic need for teachers in general seeing how he was trying to persuade me to teach at his school instead of TFA. Good to know. I have a job waiting for me in North Adams if need be.

P.S. Is it possible for lemonade to go bad? This particular bottle tastes especially tart.

Beep Beep Beep!

Abby's alarm has been going off for the past hour. Maybe she's dead. Check back for the prognosis later!

Excuses.

Sorry I have been slacking but truth be told, nothing interesting has happened in the past few days. They have been dedicated solely to the yearbook and moving the office. You can rest assured that the day something interesting does happen to me -- you'll be the first to know.

Tomorrow I'm meeting a principal of a nearby school to talk about teaching and hopefully schedule some times for me to do observations...perhaps that will provide some blogworthy fodder...

COPS.

So some guy got pulled over by a cop right in front of my room. He's been sitting there for a while now waiting for his talking to, but the cop is taking his time. The guy is getting impatient and has started actually waving at the cop and even honked his horn a couple times. I thought people were supposed to be scared of cops.

I kind of wish they would go away since the flashing of lights directly into my room is somewhat distracting.

Close the Door!

I'm coming out with my Jake love. When I say love, I mean it in the most immature junior high sense: I used to love Jake Gyllenhaal (heh heh...Bubble Boy is a "cult hit"). I had a special little symbol for him that me and my friends would write everywhere. He had a code name. I knew his birthday -- fun fact: it's the same as Jamie's (different year) -- and would watch him sing lovingly during our concert rehearsals (yes, I used to sing). Most telling of all: I could spell his last name. He knew about this love because all us underclassmen girls loved him. Unfortunately, he was kind of a prick sometimes -- but also in that immature junior high sense. He's grown out of it since then, I think.

Anyway, with that introduction, I present to you: Action-Hero Jake. Yes folks, they're outrunning ICE. A little known cure to ICE is closing the door.

Also: cheesy-romance Jake.

I worry. I still believe that Jake is a better singer than he is an actor. Maybe he'll be like J-Lo and start a singing career.

P.S. I just remembered something so embarrassing about my Jake-love. I actually used to take pictures for the school yearbook and I definitely stole the ones that I took of him that weren't used in the book.I blame it all on my 13 year-old lameness. Although, I could probably sell them on eBay to some boy-crazy teen...hmmm...market-savvy.

Reality Bites.

This is an actual dialogue from last week:

Melissa: (on the phone with her dad)...so, I'm still trying to figure out what to do after Jamie's graduation and before training starts...
Dad:...
Melissa: ...because, I'm actually going to be...like...alone and homeless for that week.
Dad:...
Melissa:...I guess I can try to find a cheap motel and do more apartment shopping...in Baltimore...but maybe I'll drive somewhere fun and have an adventure...
Melissa's Inner Monologue: send money....give me money...
Dad:...
Melissa:..I'm sure Baltimore's not that scary...
Dad:...that sounds nice.

I don't want to be an adult anymore!

Although, I guess it's better than the 11:30pm curfew (that was seriously in effect the last time I was home -- never mind that I'm turning 23 this year) or the days of no concerts or boys in the house after 10pm.

Insomniac.

It's getting harder to sleep at night as I realize the extent of my screwed-ness. Any suggestions?

Hunka Hunka Burnin' Cheese.

Realized I failed to post yesterday. That's because I finished my last final and was taking the day off of life. Went for a nice walk up Stone Hill and tried to relax before tackling yearbook.

So a couple days ago I was picking up my take-home exam at Hopkins Hall. I was with Dan and Abby, and we noticed this random giant hunk of cheese just sitting on the ledge. Dan (being disgusting) picked it up, smelled it, and affirmed that it was, in fact, cheese. He then proceeded to throw it at the trash can.

Today (technically yesterday) when I went to return the take home exam I noticed that the cheese was in the same place as we had left it. From a distance I could see curious passerbys stopping to check out the cheese. They went through a similar process as Dan had although most just prodded it with their foot instead of actually picking it up and smelling it. On closer inspection I realized it was because you could smell it without having to pick it up. Gross. Also, random.

You have to understand when I say "giant" I mean, GIANT. Like, bigger than a brick. So random. Did I mention random.

You may wonder why I'm up at this hour when I finished up all of my schoolwork. That is because I'm freaking out about yearbook now...courtesy of Jamie.

I Heart Take-Home Exams.

Well...not as much as I like No Exams.

I'm in the middle of my last final ever....atwilliams. I felt the need to blog if only because I could and that is a luxury in the world of finals.

Anyway, Re: my yearbook rant of a couple days ago...sorry! I realize since then that it sounded much more negative than I meant it to. I also found out that I have really great friends when they offered to help. Haha! Suckers.

[Mr.Burns Voice and Finger Tap]: Excellent...

B/C BBQ.

As promised, here are some pictures from our entry reunion BBQ. Of course it rained, but that couldn't stop the entry love from flowing.

This is Gittes making his move with the ladies. HOT.


Former Sage B superstars: Ashlee, Bryan, and Holly.


Elissa and Reed sharing some love on a flimsy butterfly chair.


My boy Jay.


Some more Sage B love. (Nice shirt Tim).


And since it wouldn't be fair for me to include pictures of other people and not myself being stupid...here's me eating Trav's ear.


And me looking stoned with Bryan.


Alissa and Dan taking care of the grill. I'm nice and dry on the porch (it should be noted that I sat out there without an umbrella shortly afterwards).


Lastly, a lovely picture of Jon and Ash.

So, the BBQ was exactly what I needed. Good people and good times. But, it also made me realize how much I'm going to miss these guys next year...*sniffle*. Maybe I shouldn't worry so much since it is possible that I will fail my final and have to stay another year anyway. Time will tell.

Another Yearbook Rant.

I turned in my final paper about an hour ago, but now the real dread takes hold. No, I'm not talking about my final exam. I'm talking about the yearbook.

For the past month or so, I lay awake in bed dreading this yearbook. Will it get done (yes)? Will it be good (I hope so)? Or will I fail miserably (most likely)? As I finish up my schoolwork, there is little that can excuse me from getting it done...now. A few teensy-tiny problems:

1. The US Postal service lost about seven ROLLS of crucial film which included club pictures and academic departments...neither of which can be replaced.

2. We have to move out of our office within the next week. When I say "we", I actually mean "me" since the other staff members are taking off before the move. Did I mention that that includes moving furniture, boxes upon boxes full of old yearbooks, and four computers? Never mind the headache that is associated with moving our master computer at a time when its contents are so so valuable. I'm trying to back-up the materials, but I'm not exactly sure how. Anybody care to inform me?

3. We have turned in zero spreads. Out of 270. Two deadlines have come and gone. Kill me.

4. Much of my staff is avoiding me.

5. Someone at the dean's office is continuing to give out my name and number to parents calling about the yearbook. While it's okay now, I worry about what it will be like in a few months.

This list is stressing me out -- especially since there are a whole lot more to go. I'm going to stop now. Send me love.

Oh! But on another happier note: we're having a Sage B/C entry reunion BBQ tonight! Come back later for pictures!

Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens.

While I'm working on my paper, you all can amuse yourself with this off of NPR. It's the trailer for The Sound of Music as a horror film. I know it sounds dumb...but if you knew my love for The Sound of Music, you'd understand why this is great to me.

"Get Busy Livin', Or Get Busy Dyin'."

After running errands today I was walking back to my house when I saw Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon. Now, I'm not positive it was them -- it could have been their stunt doubles -- but I'm pretty sure it was because I love them both and I feel as though I would be able to recognize them in passing. Also, when I said hello to them, a Tim Robbins sounding voice said hello back. My observations/questions are:

1. Why are they in Williamstown so early? Most of the Hollywood crowd come late-June.

2. Tim Robbins (and/or his stunt double) is huge. While I knew that he was tall, I didn't realize he was like, six and a half feet tall. Huge.

3. Susan Sarandon (or stunt double) is not as short as I thought she was. This misperception was probably a result seeing pictures in which she is standing next to her HUGE husband. Wait, are they married?

4. Susan Sarandon looks older in person. Still lovely though.

5. Tim Robbins wears funky clothes. Today he was wearing a blue bandanna and a bright purple shirt. One would think that if they were trying not to attract attention, they would stay away from bright purple...then again, they are at Williams...

Incidentally, I was walking through a common room a couple days ago to find a bunch of people watching Top Gun. It was the end of the movie where I guess Tom Cruise had blown up some bad guys or whatever, and I couldn't get over the fact that Tim Robbins was just a random guy in that movie with, like, two lines. It's TIM ROBBINS. From Shawshank Redemption! I wonder why the casting person chose a giant like Tim Robbins to stand next to little itsy-bitsy Tom Cruise in the final scene?

No Senior Spring for Me.

So I resigned myself to an all-nighter (tomorrow, not today) when I decided to restart my final paper...again. This makes it three times that I have started over from scratch. I decided that this topic means a lot to me and I started viewing this paper as a mission statement and not so much as a final paper. At first I was annoyed that the prof. would give us so little direction (the question basically is: what have been the components of your environmental education to date and how are you going to apply it in your life as a citizen and as a professional). Then, about five pages into the drivel that was draft number two, I realized that he made it vague so that we would reflect (in-depth) on our own education.

I started over around 2am and stopped only for a twenty minute talk with the Jamester and maybe a couple random emails. I now have seven decent pages. It's amazing what a little ephiphany can do for a writer's block (considering it had taken me three days to get 2 pages, erase them and then write 5 pages and erase them). But maybe now it's time for bed.