You Ask, I Oblige.

Some extremely attractive snapshots of Relay for Life! At least we look like sane people in the last one.

I love them all!

Anyway, today was fine. I'm surviving Monday. The only problem is that I just ate my last Thin Mint. This is tragic. 

Somehow I'll make it through. 

It's quite amazing: today I'm only at musical soundtrack stage. Obviously I'm an expert at being in denial. Or maybe I just have confidence that I can handle it all.  I e-mailed my advisor asking how to declare my second major, and he seemed skeptical that I would have time.  But this is because he is unaware of the 35 credits I came in with. They help. 

I just want it all approved so I can get started with my future. As melodramatic as that all sounds, it's true. 

Relaying for Life

Yesterday was a day of absolute insanity. 

I dragged myself out of bed at 8 on a Saturday (this is a crime. A CRIME.) and got ready to head over to the Cayuga Inlet with my roommate Beth.  She rows for the novice women, which is ridiculously convenient.  

When we first got there, I departed from the group of crew girls as they went to start setting up boats and prepping for warm-ups. I explored around the boat house and stuck my nose inside Cornell's, which is 9 billion times nicer and larger. The difference between a top-ranked Division I team and a top ranked Division III team is huge in appearance and performance. Not that that stopped our women's varsity from beating Cornell. Nor did it stop our men's team being crushed by Cornell. 

It was a gorgeous day. Sunny, 60 degrees. It was unbelievable. So I hung around, watching everyone set up and warm-up.  Hobart, Marist, and Cornell teams set up tents and loaded boats off trailers. 

The weirdest part was that Coach Dan Robinson found me because he recognized me from orientation. I kind of got a scolding. "You shouldn't be here, you should be out there."

Which a part of me agreed with. I miss team sports. Maybe I am just obsessed with lakes and the sparkling waters of Cayuga made me subconsciously think of summers in Otis. Who knows. Robinson said a lot of rowers start sophomore year. 

Anyway, so he showed me where they were posting results and tried to explain them to me, because he said very often they are reported incorrectly. Let me just say, it makes no sense at all. I mean, I understand it now--at least, the basics-- but it doesn't make ANY SENSE. 

Then, I sat around and watched many many races with large lulls in between. My editor Cory came down to cover the women's team, and I tried to explain crew to him. But I didn't exactly know what I was talking about, so I think I just made him more confused. 

Then, because I had nothing else better to do, I interviewed 8 different rowers, and Coach Robinson. The required number is three. Whatever. After that, I got a ride back to campus with Cory. 

After that, it was time to get ready for Relay for Life. The theme was 80s, and so my friends and I spent a lot of time applying gross eyeshadow, messing up our hair, cutting up t-shirts, and pulling on brightly colored leggings and leg-warmers. Pure awesomeness. We all carpooled over, and then spent many many hours at Cornell's indoor track, Barton Hall, walked the track, dancing around, listening to acapella, and being crazy.  For a while, future roomie Ashley and I tabled for Active Minds, where we blew up balloons for an hour or so.  The idea was stress relief. At our table people wrote things that stressed them out on balloons, and then popped them.  So, it was totally worth my sleep-deprived delirium today.  

Now, I've got to do some serious writing and get this work done. Time's running out, it's almost April!

Sometimes, It's Not All Bad

It seems that as a whole, this has been a crappy and dreary week for everyone. It definitely felt that way for me. My classes are wearing on me. I'm trying and it's not always working. That's why, when I got my huge mid-term paper on Louis Erdrich's story "The Red Convertible" back from my short story professor, I started to tear up (just a little bit) at the comments. 

Largely because I cry at everything. I am that chick that cries during every movie ever. But I'm going to be a little obnoxious and reprint what my professor wrote:

"Abby, I have read many student-written essays on  'The Red Convertible,' since I teach it every semester.  But your is among the best I've seen, and may actually be the best.  The essay analyzes capitalism's impact on the brothers, capitalism's manifestation in the the car; it identifies and analyzes the story's persistent trope of 'moving without moving' in consistently clear and vigorous writing. The very high level of analysis, synthesis, and writing all unite to make your essay a work of outstanding quality. This is excellent work by any measure, and I read it with extreme pleasure and edification."

Seriously? You can't MAKE this stuff up. It's practically stolen from the ending of a Disney movie. 

As self-indulgent and self-congratulatory this is, sometimes I just need to reaffirm publicly that I have the capability to totally kick ass. 

Oh and I also made a cake for my friend's birthday today, all by myself. No one died. My dorm is still standing. I didn't start to cry half way through reading the recipe.  We've yet to see if it's edible, but I'll chalk it up prematurely as a success. 

The weather's gross up here, but at least it's not cold! 

Now, it's off to the sports section meeting for me!

Let me start off today's blog with a hearty welcome for my friend Laura and her roommate Kate to the blogosphere. They've just started blogging from room 314 at Providence College, and even if they only have one post so far, they're sure pretty to look at, at the very least.

I've been trying to convince all my friends to get blogs for some time now. Some people may find it lame that I sign up for everything: Twitter, blogging, Facebook, the whole nine yards. I just consider them technological manifestations of my awesomeness. And, I always want to be updated on my friends' lives. 

Oh, and I'm a huge nerd.

On another note...

It is WARM today! Like, 50 whole degrees! I also turned in a big academic writing paper this morning. My "persuasive argument" about the anti-feminism of women's magazines turned into kind of a philosophical rant about media conformation to patriarchal norms. 

Which is all sort of hypocritical of me, seeing as I subscribe to Vogue. But then again, I also get Sports Illustrated, so I guess we'll just pretend that I like to look at pretty pictures. At least I don't get Cosmo. Their overwhelming self-congratulations of their supposed feminism really seems obnoxious to me. 

Anyway, rant over THERE.

Yesterday I worked on a phone-a-thon to call accepted students in the Park School. Chatted with some pretty interesting journalism students and parents. The parents ALWAYS asked more questions than the students. The students in general seemed like they just wanted to go to bed already. It's a chronic symptom of senioritis. But it was certainly strange sitting there for an hour and a half calling tons of people I didn't know. Interesting. But strange.

I also did quite a few interviews yesterday, trying to shore up some more sources for an article for a class and getting in contact with the crew coach. It was all kind of exhausting. 

Anyway, I'm off to a Relay for Life meeting. The fun really never ends!

Snapshot of Today

I don't have much time, so let's go through this day with a series of quotes. 

"Jackson presents the idea of cruel tradition as administrated and perpetuated through a hierarchically-constructed society."

"Isn't it depressing when you even view the concept of universal human rights as innately flawed?" 

And my personal favorite...

"And you write for what paper, again?"

Oh, and let me just say, today I found an unopened roll of Thin Mints while I was cleaning out my desk. Jesus obviously loves me. 

I just spent like 20 minutes trying to get that chicken picture to the bottom of the page. I officially hate technology. 

We're at Brad Paisley level, people!

I've found the way to make sport-loving straight guys go to a speaker on homosexuality.  

Invite John Amaechi! 

Ithaca held a conference on sexuality and sport, and Amaechi was our keynote speaker. For the large percentage of my friends who won't know who this is, Amaechi was the first NBA player to come out of the closet, even if he only did so after retirement. He discussed his decision told quite a few stories.  He's now a psychologist, which gave an extremely interesting drive and insight to his stories. He was also hilarious. 

So, in essence, his presence on campus made a lot of guys pay attention to a topic that has such a huge presence on campus--but one with which most are still extremely uncomfortable.

I love it.

Our sport's meeting was pushed back until today because Amaechi spoke during our normally scheduled meeting. My editor pointed out that there's only five issues left in the year. So the panic may just be setting in for me now. Stress-wise, I've hit my country music playlist...at Brad Paisley and Kenny Chesney level. In the words of the WonderPets, "This is SEWIOUS!"

You know you need a summer break when the only thing that can calm your nerves is listening to songs like "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy."  But in my revisiting of the country music scene, I've found some fascinating insight into the economic crisis. Really. John Rich's "Shutting Detroit Down" touched me. I stopped what I was working on and sat back and thought about the assumptions I make and the perspectives I so often ignore. 

Lately my blogs have become a little introspective, maybe a little too serious for my taste. I'm going to try to fix that...

...with fake chickens.

Everything I Own Smells Like Chicken

It's true. Because yesterday, my chicken and rice soup from our grab-and-go dining hall lunches decided to leak ALL OVER my bag. The bag? Washable. My document readers, notebooks, binders, and syllabi? Not so much. Nothing was irreparably damaged, but it ALL SMELLS LIKE SOUP. I was doing work in the study lounge last night, and I think I freaked people out when I randomly started giggling after opening my Global Studies document reader. Every time I turn a page, I get a nose-full.  It's lovely. 

Oh and then, today? The italian dressing from my salad decided to leak all in my paper bag. Papers were spared this time but I totally gagged after trying to eat my chocolate chip cookie. 

It was totally nasty. 

I'm in a pretty good mood today because the sun has mercifully returned, and I owned the discussion in my short story class today. If it's depressing and disturbing, I can analyze it for hours. Therefore, Ralph Ellison was just my cup of tea. 

I still don't have an assignment for The Ithacan this weekend, because crew has yet to have a meet.  So, this is my last weekend of relaxation before all hell breaks loose. It's likely that next weekend I will have a deadline, a Global studies paper to write, a regatta to attend, a Life to Relay for all night, and a journalism research paper to interview for. 

But hey, that's college, right?

Oh.

Did I mention I joined another club?

I joined Active Minds, a club dedicated toward removing the stigma from mental illness.  It's something I'm really excited about and a couple of my friends are also members. 

I obviously have a problem, though, and it's called, "I want to do everything-itis."

But Here's The Thing

You know when you have a cold, and you can't sleep or do daily tasks normally without thinking about if you can actually breathe at all or if you can make it up those steps without falling asleep? You think to yourself that you would appreciate normal so much more once this cold is over. You take normal for granted.

Today was one of those days, in a way. It kind of sucked. But at the same time, it's all-over crappiness highlighted what's so good about everything else. 

Late morning I got an e-mail saying that I, a lowly freshman, had been chosen by the NBC Olympic to interview for an internship at the Vancouver Olympics. 

"No way!" I thought. "They NEVER choose freshman, it's too good to be true!"

It was. 

I got an e-mail forty minutes later with a pleading apology, saying that they had accidentally sent the congratulations to all the students that were not selected. So, essentially, they had given the entire freshman class and most of the sophomore class of Parkies some crucial emotional whiplash. 

After the sinking disappointment tempered and I had commiserated with some of my fellow Parkies, I started re-evaluating. 

What if I had gone to Vancouver? My study abroad time would be spent in Canada. And for what? It would have been amazing, don't get me wrong. I love the Olympics. But here's the thing:

I am so sick of writing about sports. Maybe it's covering a single, flat team at a D-III school for the third time this year that's turned me off. I've read some amazing articles in Sports Illustrated these past few weeks and they've really said something. When I finish reading those, I feel as though I know a little bit more about who we all are as people. But here's the thing:

Sports-- beyond football--don't occupy my thoughts. Considerations about them don't linger in my head days after I've watched a game. I'm not one of those people who spits information back about every player for every sport in every decade. 

I was buying sushi California rolls at the cafe today for lunch and I was still thinking about global politics, an hour after the class had ended. I was still preoccupied and frustrated with possible and seemingly unattainable solutions to Australia's broken refugee policies an hour after my class. 

That's not exactly typical. That says something big, I think.

So maybe I'll keep writing about sports. It's good training, and if it's about football, I'm all for it. But the point I'm making here is that I'm starting to figure out where I want to end up. I'm starting to figure out what's important to me, and what I like. And if it took a stupid mix-up and a few boring swimming articles for me to figure that out, so be it. 

The metaphorical sniffles I had today also showed me what great support I have here. My friends are awesome. It also showed me that I can get something from failure, from not being the exception, and being disappointed. 

Let's end this un-fun post with a reasoning from the dad in Calvin and Hobbes:

It builds character!

9 Billion Grilled Cheese Sandwiches Later...

This morning my alarm went off, and my first thought was:

"WHAT IS THAT WHAT IS THAT WHAT IS THAT" 

In my panic and fumbled around in the dark and hit the snooze button to make the horrible noise stop. I then sat up in my bed and took in my surroundings. My second thought was:

"#@!#%^&*"

So I stumbled through the dark and found my trusty flashlight, which I now dress by regularly. When I have to get up before the crap of dawn like on Mondays, I set out my clothes the night before, like I am in elementary school.  Because at 5:30 I have the decision-making skills of a goldfish. Not even one of the goldfish that lives freakishly for 25 years. One of the goldfish that dies the second you buy it an actual bowl to replace the cancerous plastic bag it has probably been inhabiting for months. 

At dining hall work I seriously almost fell asleep where I legitimately made 180 grilled cheese sandwiches. That is an exact calculation. It felt like a million. It was my one real break, because we were understaffed this morning and therefore I was practically running around Campus Center dining hall for four hours straight. 

In Academic Writing I researched for my persuasive essay, in which I'm arguing that despite mission statements of feminism and progression, the majority of women's magazines encourage women to form their identities around consumption and sexuality. 

My life is nothing but a non-stop party. Really.

A lot of us in Boothroyd always bring lunch back to the dorm and eat together in the kitchen. It's a fantastic break in between classes because they're all hilarious. It felt good to be back. 

I then headed to Spanish, where I sat and thought about how much I used to love spanish class in high school. Now, I hate it. With a burning flaming passion. I went from there to journalism research, where we kept going over interviewing and such. 

This evening I had my typical all-radio evening, where I sit through multiple meetings with most of the same people for Now Hear This! and the news team. 

The weather is warm. Warm is now 50 degrees, and people are wearing shorts and flip flops. Let's see how long THAT lasts. I don't trust the weather anymore. It's been so fickle in the past. 

Someday I will tell my therapist all these things. I am pretty sure I will need a therapist, to cope with my overwhelming fame and success and increase my self-obsession. I think that's just how it's done in the great USA. 

Back to Reality

Already things are falling back into place here at IC. 

I'm already not doing what I should, and I've been loving reconnecting with everyone after the break. The difference here is that what I should be doing is not actually work--it's sleeping. 

Which is totally awesome. So I'm just going to take a moment and bask in that statement for a moment.

Okay. The rest of break was beyond excellent. A bunch of us celebrated friend A's 19th (!) birthday. Birthday's are always strange with her, because I've been going to her birthday celebrations since the 2nd grade. 

Apparently my friends and I have the social calendars of middle-aged, childless suburbanites, because there is nothing we love more than brunch. So I attended multiple. There is also nothing I love more than brunch. Sitting around and gabbing at mid-morning with a cup of coffee in my hand and fruit salad on the table is my kind of utopia. We cover all kinds of topics, ranging from government policy to our opinions on that weird unitard Kelly Clarkson wore in her last video.

Kelly, if you can hear us, we love you, but no one should wear that thing. It just does nothing good for anyone. 

In other news, I can hardly believe I only have a little less than 8 weeks left of my freshman year. 

WHERE DID IT GO?

Five thirty is one awful wake-up call, but I might as well finish off the semester at full speed.  

It's totally bedtime. 

Jon Stewart and Other Magical Occurrences

So haven't posted for a week because nothing all that interesting had happened to me while I enjoyed a peaceful break. 

Now, it's a different story. 

On Wednesday the four of us slid sluggishly into the van (well, Dad was alert and driving, thank God) and started the trek up to New York City. We were making the journey as a family to watch the taping of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. This show is something that we all enjoy with a man we all sort of worship. So it was exciting. We had a nice lunch and then went back to the studio to make sure our group of four had a place in line to get tickets for the show. One person could hold places for four, and Mom held down the fort while Dad, Claire and I searched for a bathroom that was:

1. Open to the public

2. Not nasty

3. Okay...maybe only a little nasty?

We found a bathroom at a visitor center for some huge ship that I would never board because of my fear of sea travel as caused by movies such as The Perfect Storm, Titanic, and Castaway. I have no desire to have conversations with a volleyball or die a frigid death, even if these fears are unjustified because the ship is decommissioned.  Gazing out upon the ocean, we also discussed Claire's fear of whales, as caused by...the existence of whales.

And actually, I must now add, that it was not the ocean we gazed upon, but the Hudson River. Unfortunately I wrote this post at 1:30 a.m. And unfortunately, I am an idiot. AND it is one really really big river. Aren't you glad my parents are dropping so much cash on a collegiate education for someone as qualified as me?

So we did a bit of sight seeing, while Claire and I made regular observations about the severity of our hair frizz because of the light drizzle that was falling. Then, we hunkered down in line with Claire's iPod and a really disgusting $3 pretzel, and waited for what felt like an eternity. 

It was WORTH it! We got amazing third-row seats. Jon came out to joke with the audience before the taping, and sometimes you had to wonder if he truly needed so many writers. Paul Rudd was the guest, and after Claire and I shrieked with glee, we attempted to convince my parents that yes, this man is famous. Lewis Black also did a segment, and he was actually funny. Which is kind of a rarity, in my opinion. 

After the show, we hit the road once again. Claire and I passed out in the back while Dad kept on driving. I seriously cannot imagine having to do that. I was unable to remain fully conscious when we stopped for food. In front of the Burger King I had a "Where am I, and how did I get here?" moment. 

Today, Claire, friend K and I randomly metroed down to the zoo. Here, we oohed and aahhhhed at cheetahs and elephants, and also wondered why the zoo is so huge and why it is on such a steep incline. We also observed people laughing at our conversation on the metro. 

And now, it's 1:35, and I have somewhere to be this morning. But I felt as though a post was long overdue. 

This break is going by so quickly!

Almost There!

Every important thing I had to do before break is pretty much done.

All I really have to do tomorrow is drag my sorry butt out of bed at 5:30 and stumble in the general direction of the radio room and write up and perform something about the bailout plus other news of the day. Then two classes, a nap (well, I'll try. I haven't yet succeeded), and relaxation until my ride home Saturday morning. 

Oh, and did I mention that I had an interview with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers yesterday? I managed not to hyperventilate during a quick interview for a public relations internship. I just can't believe I GOT the interview. Cool stuff. 

Besides the occasional chat with an NFL media staff, my life has been pretty dull the past couple of days. Way too much time spent writing and studying and testing. That's midterms, I guess. 

Our sports section this week was awesome. Two fronts and the spring sport insert, in which I had my crew preview run with the coolest picture ever. My article and the picture take up an entire page. Pure excellence. 

I am essentially brain dead at this point. I apologize for the lack of actual interest or personality expressed in this post. 

Now, I'm heading off to my section meeting!

I Feel Hostile Towards This Stupid Weather

I really do. I have been straight up angry after walking out the door the past two days because it is insanely cold and insanely windy, and I am just a bitter, whiny, Southern person. 

I actually came home last night from my meetings, chucked my stuff on my bed, sat down at my computer and ordered a hat online. It was seriously the most aggressive online shopping anyone has ever done. I considered shouting out loud, "Yeah, take that, stupid wind!" and shaking my fist to the heavens. I will honestly try to wear the hat, but in reality I bought it to make sure that the weather is way too warm for me to wear it by the time it arrives in a week or two. Because that would totally happen.

I have so much work to do, that I can't even stomach it. I keep all my lists in the little notebook I carry, and I have been sneaking peeks at it for the last hour and had my stomach churn. Then I shut it and do things like this instead. This little book is all pink and innocent looking. But it contains my life. I am kind of a scatter-brained person. This is what a typical page of my notebook looks like:

03/03/09

Submit Global Studies

+800 words-Short Story Paper- due Thursday

Respond to Robinson, Orlando -> regatta dates on calendar

Study for spanish- Chapter 8

Academic writing response

sneakers, TEA WHEN HOME

VANCOUVER! PPD!

Walker reading for j research

J research- The importance of community? Medical risks? Source list by Friday.

So, in sum, someday historians will find this notebook and assume that the owner was on crack. Or a journalism major.

I want my hat.

***Edit

Okay, so I just received this e-mail from my mom in response to my blog post. And I decided it was necessary to publish it. I seriously started cracking up. The title of it?

List of Abby's Hats That Should Be in Ithaca

I can procrastinate with the best of you!

Einstein Swim and Dive hats (should be somewhere in your dorm room)

One Amma knitted that matches a scarf (never mind- saw this in the basement yesterday)

Hat Claire gave you that ties under your chin (like Eicher or Mary Coyne hat)

Light blue or white angora hat that matches gloves

hood for new parka

wrap one of your million scarves!

You see? I have absolutely no hats.

(That I don't look stupid in)

I love my parents. They can parent-school me from many miles away.

A Musical Soundtrack Kind of Day

As previously noted, my stress level is always reflected in my choice of music. Right now, it's about medium high, so here I am going through my "musical theatre" genre. Idina Menzel and Kristen Chenoweth will serenade me as I shove my laundry into my drawers and work on my millions of papers. 

By mid-week I may be at country music level. Beware. 

Anyway, it was a pretty productive weekend for me. Weekends are always productive, but this time I spread out my productivity instead of cramming it into the last four hours of Sunday night before I hit the sack. 

The men's basketball team suffered an absolutely shocking loss to Nazareth yesterday. We were the number one seed. We had one loss through the whole season. People can't even believe it. It's so disappointing. At Ithaca we seriously dominate the Empire 8. This just doesn't happen. This weekend was also the championships for the mens swimming and diving team, and they placed second in the state and smashed 2 college records! Let's take a look at the final places:

Final UNYSCSA Standings

1. Alfred- 1,149 points

2. Ithaca- 1,063

3. Rensselaer- 1,039

WIN

However, Claire still managed to be awesome enough to win the gold medal in the novice women's Adirondack erg sprints competition at RPI with a 2k time of 7:45.05. Because she's awesome, even if her swim team loses. I am so proud of her!

I now must go make up more "analysis" for my short story paper. I get to write about symbolism for 4 pages!