From here to there.

Four more days. Two more study guides. Three more finals. One design presentation. One graduation ceremony. One night of booze cruising. Two hours of driving to almost five days of being somewhere slightly more familiar. Few hours of packing to create three part time homes. Two more hours of driving. More packing. Then, unpacking. One more weekend until six weeks of school, four days a week. All it comes down to now is one road. One house. One room.

Friday the 13th

So I was writing a new post and right when I finish it, my browser fucks up. So it's gone. Fuck you Blogger.

"My life is a septic tank filled to overflowing."- JG

OK, even though February wasn't that long of a month I sure think it felt long. Working doubles sucks, midterms suck, and as you should have been able to guess by now I live my life believing almost everything sucks. You didn't guess that though did you. You suck. In which case I suck too. Writing (among other things) gets pushed to the back burner when my life gets the least bit stressful. The things that I focus during those hard times includes, but is not limited to: watching television (not analyzing or studying the history of it like a good communication student), staying up late for absolutely no good reasonable reason (instead of ....SLEEPING), eating fast food like they were outlawing it tomorrow (instead of ...actually I always do this so I don't know what other alternatives are out there) and drinking while studying for the before mentioned sucky midterms (is that what average people do?) Despite all of that stupid shit February is over! Time to spend time with what really matters....which I guess means the World Wide Web and celebrity-like figures I'll never meet. Therefore I think it's time for another Salute. This is for all the famous people that no one thinks about, you are the perfect combination of star power and Normal Dude, go you!!

John Hodgman

Probably best known with kids my age for being the PC guy or that dude who's on Jon Stewart sometimes, Hodgman is a funny guy who just so happens to be smart too. His book is ridiculously ridiculous and he is an amazing expert of basically everything on The Daily Show. Plus when he's not all PC-ed out, he's pretty cute. On a side note, in real life he uses a Mac.

Joel Godard

Joel doesn't need much of an introduction and I'd like it if no one tried because it won't be anywhere as awesome as when he does it. Born in 1938, Joel is the announcer for Late Night with Conan O'Brien and also part of some hilarious sketches. It's amazing because Conan's pretty much the only thing on his resume, but that's all you need I guess.

McFuckingGriddle

There's a lot of crazy things in this world and none are creepy or insane to think about than fate. Destiny is something that makes perfect sense to a lot of people, and for good reasons. It's an amazing thought that somehow everything matters, nothing can go wrong because you're not the one fucking it up. If something's going to go wrong, it's supposed too. Let it go, move on, look forward. The world sucks, but maybe it's meant to be. Maybe. Shit like that is what makes life interesting and special.* Special moments are hard to come by, but there is one guarantee in my life fulfilled by none other than the multi-billion corporation McDonald's. The specific "special moments" I am referring to are the moments between 3 and 10:30 am. I know what you're thinking, "Aren't those McDonald's breakfast hours?" Yes. Yes they are.
The reason I am singling out The Golden Arches' breakfast menu is because of one item: the McGriddle. I know some people probably just threw up in their mouths, but if your a friend of mine you're probably drooling a little bit right now. Never had the pleasure of a floppy McGriddle in your mouth? The time is now. You'll regret it if you never try one; I mean, I never saw the World Trade Center buildings and now I never will. That sucks hard. From now on I live my life like there's no tomorrow. I'm doing everything I can now before it's gone. I've signed up for Yoga lessons, I'm planning a tattoo appointment and I'm currently exchanging papers to adopt a mohawk sporting Cambodian child. So when it comes to McGriddles, Just Do It.
I think the best part about the McG* is how convient it is when you want it the most: when you're drunk as shit. For example, McDonald's starts serving the greasy bastards at 3am, which means the bars are closed, you've had enough time at your friends' shitty ass house that you like so much for some God forsaken reason and finally, you're motherfucking hungry.

The McGriddle is effortless in its simplicity and each delicious ingredient only adds to its mystery and legend. I mean, everything used to construct the breakfast sandwich is carefully selected with the drunken masses in mind. For example: did you fall asleep/pass out before the McGriddle made it to your mouth? That's ok because it tastes perfect microwaved in the morning. It's like you just bought it! You're probably saying, "But, hey! I passed out. There's no way I can put that bitch in the fridge before I fall asleep." No worries because the McGriddle doesn't ever need to be stored in any special way besides the way you ordered it. The resilient little guy keeps himself together for the rest of the early morning so that when you wake up face down in drool, it's right there next to your big fat head, ripe for the pickin'.

*And that sentence so gay sounding.

*McG=McGriddle, not that douchebag director, because you all know he didn't do anything close to as great as the McGriddle was, is and ever will be. Maybe a few episodes of The OC. But whatever.

Shit-Faced in the South

On Thursday morning I woke up dressed in my pajamas, lying in bed with my hotel roommate and with a very painful headache. Besides it being around six o'clock in the morning, on the surface this sounds like a particularly normal wake up scenario. The only problem was I had no idea how I got there, how long I had been there, or how I managed to get into my current outfit. Slightly confused and definitely sick to my stomach, all I could think of what to do was to visit the bathroom and then back to bed. A few hours later I awoke to my partner's cell phone alarm.

9:30 am: Let me think for a second exactly why I feel like shit. Oh right, alcohol. Oh yeah, party. Oh shit, I forgot I forgot to eat dinner. Oops. I then very slowly remind myself of the events leading up to this moment. My first ever debutante party in South Carolina.

5:02 pm: Let's start at the end of our early bird dinner. The food was delicious and I honestly wish I could have eaten more, but alas, it was time for the check. Just waiting for the server to pick up the card.

5:10 pm: Still waiting.

5:18 pm: Still waiting.

5:24 pm. Still waiting. Where the fuck is she? I mean, seriously? You're seriously still- OK, there you are. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did you go?

5:43 pm: The hotel is nice. We have kitchen, a living room and two bedrooms with bathrooms. It's two to a bed and I think of saying we could switch halfway through the night, but then decide to keep that thought to myself. Jokester turns into Creeper real fast.

6:04 pm: The party starts at 6:30 so we arrive early to support our girl and get a tour of the house. It's decorated beautifully and the food looks delicious. There's even a cute shy-looking boy playing piano. I quickly decide he the type of cute shy-looking boy that serial killers and rapists are made of and that I will not be lingering by the piano at all. Or at least not alone.

6:30-7:30 pm: The first hour of the event is the receiving line. This is basically a meet and greet for our girl of honor. Excuse me, young lady of honor. There's a lot of old people, and I mean A LOT. They are all very Southern and I feel very far away from anything familiar. Probably best to have a drink. Bartender! White wine, please!

7:58 pm: After I grab my signature* drink, us girls head upstairs to freshen up. After a few sips of my drink I realized it is the strongest vodka cranberry I have ever had. I also realize my dress is the same color and pattern as the couch. I found that to be amazing and we quickly captured the moment on film, which required me to lie down and become one with the couch.

8:40 pm: I get another glass of wine and make a terrible mistake. Since I already had a white I figure I'll try the red. Sure! Why not? This question will be answered later. With my new full glass I decide it's time to eat dinner: cheese and crackers, carrots and ranch, a quail leg and a roll.

9:09 pm: After I finish my red wine and have my friends tell me my teeth are looking reddish, I decide to grab another white wine. Usually I think I would have grabbed another vodka cranberry, but since the cranberry was in short supply I figured wine might be a smarter idea*.

9:29 pm: While sitting out on the front porch (front porch, South, get it?) I realize the party's about to end. I get my friend who's standing to grab me another glass of wine because honestly if I could stand, could I make it to the bar? I slam the rest of my glass to make way for more.

9:30 pm: The party's over. The photographer commences taking family photos, group shots and funny candid's. I know this because I was in some pictures and didn't even know it 'til they were developed! Yah!

9:39-10:07 pm: A group gathers near the library and the debutante's grandparents gush over their granddaughter (as they should). I hang on to my tallest friend and listen and sip. My friend next to me whispers something about a slow clap and I repeat the words "slow clap" only awkwardly and much louder, while clapping slowly.

10:08-11:15 pm: Everyone helps clean up the house and carefully place things in the cars. I help out and stumble to the car. I talk it up with the deb's parents and grandparents. I know I'm drunk, but still think I'm charming. I'm sure everyone just found me annoying and creepy. Hopefully endearing too*. I also decide it's a great idea to chat with the kitchen staff. Yea, I'm that girl, now.

11:16-11:35 pm: Ahh, the drive back to the hotel was a total blur. I had my empty wine glass and a plastic bag to throw up in and I was sound as a pound.

11:44 pm: Throw up in the hotel bathroom.

11:48 pm: More vomiting.

11:53 pm: Puke into a trash can while sitting on the bed.

12:00 am: Asleep by midnight. Beautiful!

Needless to say, I spent the next day drinking water (gross!), slowly eating macaroni and cheese and focusing on feeling good instead of how I really felt. As pathetic as my story is I had a great time. I don't know if the South and I agree too well, but I'm pretty sure getting shit-faced and puking everywhere is a Southern tradition and even if I can't be a debutante, I'm glad I could be a part of that.

*And by this I of course mean according to Dictionary.com the sixth meaning of the word signature, which states: "any unique, distinguishing aspect, feature, or mark". And although my drink order was neither unique or distinguishing, or for that matter an aspect, feature or mark, is it what I always order. Usually.

*Having an actual idea at this point is a bit of a stretch. And by a bit, I mean at this point in the story I probably would have thought the stage production of Footloose was a good idea (and we all know it wasn't). Having any sort of "idea" being "smarter" is also absolute bullshit.

*But probably not.

We're Gonna Do Just What We Wanna Do

Apparently November is the worst month of my life. All the papers, all the projects, all the fucking group presentations. The only reason I wish I went to big school is so I could avoid working in useful little groups with five other confused idiots that happen to schedule their class the same time as me. It makes no fucking sense. It never works out for everyone. Inevitably, someone is caught with their pants down.
As the semester is winding down and the weather gets colder it seems things get more sensitive and are somehow easier to break. It rains when you don't want it to, wine glasses fall and shatter, Volkswagen's refuse to start, computers crash and people die. Relationships become strange and hard to deal with. It's the most wonderful time of the year to drink rapidly, drive quickly (and foolishly), feel impulsively and move so fast you don't have time to think. You stop and realize that where you're running is far from where you were. Fuck, I have no idea which is the better of the two.
It sounds stupid (because it is), but life is so fucking annoying it hurts. No one is alike, no one understands each other, there is no common ground. Everyone has their own thing going on and no one will get you. I hate it when I'm feelin' a new song like crazy. It makes my day every time I hear it. I sing like there's no fucking tomorrow or I cry like I just got hit with a baseball bat. But no matter how much I love this song (movie, person, fill in the blank, people) no one else in the world understands. My friend always used to make me "listen to the lyrics" of different songs she loved. I always felt bad, because to me, the songs just sounded gay or just whatever. It never meant the same to me. And it's not about things like music or movies, it's just life. And that's how we live it. We try our best and usually still end up making mistakes. We think learn from them, and when we see someone else "going through the same thing" we gladly offer up our shitty advice , so that they can fuck it up just as bad (or hopefully worse) as we did. You'll never understand where I'm coming from until you've been there. And if you think you have been, you're wrong. Haven't you been paying attention?! There's no way for you to figure out what's going on unless you ask me. And even then, who's to say I'm not going to come up with some clever lie and deliver it to you like some fucking pro under oath. And you'll really never know if you never ask.

Happy Halloween...Dickhead.

Yea, so it's Halloween. Super excited. Best time of the year, in my opinion. I always thought I was weird because I was the only kid I knew who's favorite holiday was Halloween growing up. Turns out I was the only cool kid I knew and totally fit in now that I'm older. Life's funny. This year I spent a lot of time watching horror movies on TV, I mean a lot more than any other year. They're on 24/7 anyways, so don't judge me. While watching Children of the Corn one lazy Sunday afternoon my roommate inspired me to make this list. The one I'm about to write that is.
You see one of my biggest annoyances about people (people being my number one annoyance) is when they take something out of context and relate it to their own life. Specifically when they do this during movies, even more specifically scary movies. And don't lie to me because you know you've done it. It's OK, everybody jerks off sometimes. Just know that I hate you. What I mean by this out-of-context-relation-to-the-real-world situation is when you're watching a great scary movie and something horrible happens (as it usually does) and some asshole comments "Gee, why don't they just..." or "That's dumb, I would have..." or whatever ignorant observation they are about to make. STOP. Please, just SHUT UP. No one cares about what you would have done. If I did then I would drive myself to the movie theater, stand in line with a bunch of douchebags and pay eight bucks for a ticket, walk in, stand in line for fucking five dollar popcorn and go grab myself a seat right in the front row. And then I would just watch. I would just study what you would do if a toy doll possessed will the soul of a serial killer was after your body, or if a monster named Freddy was chasing you everytime you fell asleep, or if you were away at camp with all your best friends and they started being murdered one by one right in front of your eyes. Yea, I bet whatever your rational plan of action was you would be able to carry it out effectively and efficiently, even in any of those high-stress circumstances. You wouldn't even have a scratch on you.
I have to share this information for you to understand where this list is coming from. I'm counting down the scariest and best monters/killers/children/mobile deceased/hellraisers according to me (of course). This might not be exactly what I would do if I was in these movies (because I would probably just shit my pants), but let's give it a shot. OK, ready, GO!


Poltergeist
I think I would probably stroll out my house around the corner and move into a newer, nicer house down the street. No, no... across the country.


Children of the Corn
As Nikki said, "He's not even jogging. He's walking briskly." There it is: walk with a purpose. Watch out for corn roots, or something.


The Exorcist
In this case I believe I would walk to the nearest realtor and find a new place to live. Then to the orphanage to adopt another child.


Psycho
Hmmm, a number of things went wrong in this film and I feel had I met Norman Bates I would have sleep in my car (preferrably far, far away from any swamps), probably driven away early that morning.


A Nightmare on Elm Street
Besides being in a constant state of wet bed sheets, I would jog around my nightmare like there was no tomorrow, because, shit. There might not be. No reason to run though. I'm gonna be there for awhile. I'll jog to keep up my endurance.


Friday the 13th
There's nothing really else to do at Crystal Lake, but hike. That's the only to survive: be prepared. Hiking boots, fanny pack, water bottle, band-aids, sweat bands, sunscreen....assuming you make it to morning.


Child's Play
It seems to me in the case the best offense is a good defense. Chucky is short, so therefore I would probably climb up something very high and chill. But he can probably climb like a cat, so I would destroy my path and get a long, strong stick to hit him with and keep him at bay. I'd also probably die.


Night of the Living Dead
You're probably going to become your neighbor's dinner just so you can enjoy the zombie madness. I mean, who doesn't want to get eaten alive? The best way to survive in my mind can only be summed up into one word: whisk. You're going to have to be graceful and crafty to avoid EVERY zombie that's coming at you. Because there's a lot of 'em, you know? No tripping, no flat tires, no wrong turns, no dead ends. You'll need a up-to-date map and a local to make sure you're going the right way. You're only advantage here is the fact that you have a brain; it will also be your downfall.


Hellraiser
The title of this movie explains the situation quite accurately and the best way to avoid bully Pinhead and his gang is to run. Run like H-E double hockey sticks. Pinhead will wait. He has an eternity.


Halloween
This Halloween sucks. Usually you're out trick-or-treating, partying all night, getting drunk, going to work hung over the next day, and this Halloween your fucking older brother is stalking you with a kitchen knife. I mean, seriously! All you can do is change your last name and sprint like crazy to a foster home and hope Michael mistakes one of your friends for you.

And let's not forget the scariest of them all...Leatherface!

There's not much you can do to avoid that. That sort of damage is done between the ages of 1 and 18. When you're fucked, you're fucked.