Holy Shit

Comet is down again.
WHY, Dartmouth, WHY?
Everyone else's email works, just not mine. Damnit damnit damnit.

Also, click on the second link. It's funnier.

Important, Yet Dangerous, Discoveries

I have made two important, yet dangerous, discoveries recently:
1. They sell baggies of chocolate-covered espresso beans at Novack, the snack bar in the library.
2. You can use the built-in webcam on MacBooks to RECORD VIDEOS on people's facebook walls.

In other news, I just realized that I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Enlighten me, oh internet- what should I do with my life?

I am a Fashion Guru; All Hail My Magnificent Words

As I was reading the October issue of Vogue that I left in the sororitee bathroom well over a month ago, I was struck by a thought:
Ankle boots are ugly. All who where them look like they are trying to hard to be trendy and fashionable. No one should wear ankle boots.
Now go, my people, and spread the good word of your guru who, incidentally, has dirty hair and is wearing a sweatshirt she rescued from the trash-bound clutches of her cruel, unfeeling mother. Five years ago.

Crazy, or Just Pathetic?

I am sitting in my room, clutching a Boston Red Sox bear, watching the Red Sox-Rockies game on gameday (not even on a t.v. Just on my computer screen), screaming at my computer.

This is not normal.

So What if it was Really Short?

I just went for a run. In the rain. The pouring rain.
I am SO hardcore.

Ode to Dustin Pedroia

Dear Dustin Pedroia,
I love you very much.
You are very talented
at baseball.
Especially when you get
a three-run double.
That makes me
happy.
Dear Dustin Pedroia,
Will you marry me?

Either I am crazy or I would make a good housewife

I just spent an hour doing dishes.
It was kind of fun.
Also, I feel very satisfied now.

Things I was thinking about during my Abnormal Psych midterm today

My red fingernails.
My CVS shopping list.
The song that Alpha Xi sings at round 1 of rush, to the tune of Build Me Up Buttercup.
What I would eat for lunch before going to CVS.
Occasionally, Abnormal Psychology.

Freshman girls are obnoxious, but freshman boys are clueless

There is currently a freshman boy (I can tell he's a freshman by the kind of computer he has) sitting about fifteen feet away from me in the library, listening to music on his computer. Without headphones. This means that WE ALL get to listen to his weird moany music.
Earlier, a freshman boy carried on a conversation on his cell phone, and didn't even realize it was not really appropriate until I laughed at him. (I seriously didn't mean to laugh at him. It just kind of. . . came out.)

We do love God around here

"Aaaaah! You guys! No touching! Leave room for the Holy Spirit!"
"Calm down, Abbie. There is plenty of room for the Holy Spirit. In fact, the Holy Spirit has a freakin' condo in between us."

Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I'm glad all of my readers loved Ode Week so much, they were compelled to comment so much! I was going to write an ode to the comments I got from Ode Week, but here's how it would have gone:








Yeah, that's right. It would have been an empty ode, lacking in everything, because NOBODY LIKED MY ODES! The Ode to Comments is empty, like my heart. Which is empty due to the lack of ode loving.

Ode to the Red Sox

Dear Red Sox,
You are so very dear.
Especially when you win.
That makes my heart
happy.
Dear Red Sox,
thank you for winning.
It was beautiful how you
kicked Cleveland's ass.
Dear Red Sox,
I love you.
Will you marry me?

Ode to Harold from Top Chef

Harold from Top Chef,
I think I am in love
with you.
I have had a crush on you
from the get-go.
You can cook
and you are shy
and kind of adorable.
Will you marry me?

Ode to the Blister on my Foot

Dear Blister,
I got you walking from my house to my favorite spot
to eat breakfast.
I was wearing my new shoes from Target,
the ones that are
so cute and only cost $22.95.
But now, damn blister,
I am stuck here. I cannot walk home
because if I do, you will pop and maybe even
bleed.
Dear Blister,
You are not Dear at all.
In fact,
I hate you.

Ode to the String Cheese I Bought at Topside

Note: I have decided to make this week Ode Week. I enjoy a good Ode every now and then, so, logically, my multitudinous readership will as well. Since I didn't write an ode yesterday, I will try to get a second one in tonight. Also, Topside is the campus convenience store.
Oh, dear string cheese.
You were an impulse buy
while I was trying to find vegetable oil or butter to make Emma's birthday cake.
I saw you and I thought
"people on weight watchers sometimes eat you because you are a 'healthy' snack."
I know your secret, though.
Really, you have a lot of fat and salt.
But you are delicious anyway.
And also stringy.
I ate some of you for inspiration.
And I was inspired.

Ode to a Dress from the Gap

Oh black dress that cost forty dollars at the Gap.
How I love you so.
I can wear you to the beach or to class.
Even though you have a little hole in the back from when I snagged you on a door the first time I wore you,
You are still great.
I can wear you with a shirt.
I can wear you without a shirt.
I can wear you to take care of The Girl.
Although sometimes I worry that you are a bit revealing for that.
Oh, Dress, even though you make me look a little hippy in the picture that I took,
I love you anyway.

It's That Time of Year Again!

I just spent an hour making PINK! SPARKLY! NAMETAGS! for sorority rush.
Sorority girls, three-year-old girls- it's all the same really.

So Many Germs

I thought I'd made it through a summer with The Girl (she of the low muscle tone and near-constant colds) without getting sick once (except for the strep throat incident, but that doesn't count 'cause I was REALLY sick, not just all stuffed up and generally cold-y) because I was STRONG! And I had BUILT UP MY IMMUNITIES! (Wow. Two sets of parentheses in one sentence. I win.)
This is not the case.
A week after I get back to Dartmouth, home to five thousand eighteen- to twenty-two-year-olds, I am sick. Not in a little way. In a my voice sounds funny and yesterday when I tried to make a comment in class I had to stop because the snot running down my face was a little distracting way. It's not pretty.
At least I can find comfort in the fact that at least a thousand other Dartmouth students have this nasty nasty cold, too.

I am being 22.

Note: I haven't had my computer for a couple of days, and Oh! How I have missed the internet! But anyway, I wrote this post a couple days ago. It's kinda whiny and all "who am I?" But if you don't think these things when you're 22, when else? I'll be back to my regularly scheduled thoughts on shoes and the sororitee tomorrow.
Do you ever try to compare yourself to someone who seems, in every aspect that matters, to be better than you? Maybe they are smarter, more successful, better looking, "cooler," more stylish, who really cares, just better. Usually, you can justify your existance to yourself with the thought that "no matter how great they are, I'm nicer!"
But then you start thinking about that, and then you start wondering, is that just an illusion? Am I not really as nice as I think I am? Really, deep down inside, am I secretly a mean and nasty person? Or maybe not even so deep down. Maybe my whole self-image is false; maybe I am just as mean as all those people out there who I think I'm better than.
Then what do you have?
It's kind of a dilemma.

Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks about that sort of thing.