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!