The First Frost, Waayyy After the First Snow

Here I am, blogging. My sister basically threatened my well-being due to my epic failings at posting, so yes. I'm here. Talking about my life.

Halloween kind of happened this weekend. In college Halloween basically takes over the entire weekend, so from Thursday night on you could see people walking around in strange attire. I saw one girl dressed as an LOLcat. I was so incredibly jealous that I did not think of that. SO JEALOUS.

I dressed up as a police officer. Not like an out-of-the-bag "sexy" police officer (a look of which many college girls are fond of), fear not. My feminist values remained intact. I basically chose to be a police officer because all I had to do was buy a hat and wear black. I also thought it was funny, in a, "Look at me, I'm the physical embodiment of legitimized force!" kind of way. Because I am that kid you knew at college. Really.

You could argue that the physical embodiment of legitimized force would be a soldier, but there was no way I was going to be caught dead in anything with a camouflage print.

Anyway, so there was that. I ate something described as a "Reese Pumpkin" and went into a blissful sugar coma. I then went for a swim, and thoroughly regretted ever consuming said Reese pumpkin. Despite the nausea, I've decided it was totally worth it.

Today marked the beginning of our off season weight training. The varsity coach teaches athletic training classes and is supervising their training of us. Today we learned about different machines and got analyzed. My assessment was basically: 1. You are kind of inflexible. 2. You have long femurs! 3. Oh, and long tibias too! 4. Actually, long everything. So, uh, work with that, okay?

Tomorrow will bring insanity. After work and class, I'm heading to a question and answer session with this little known blogger named...Arianna Huffington. Oh yes. I totally know Claire will not know who this is/care, but she is kind of a big deal. My professor said the set up will be Oprah-style, so I guess we'll pass around a microphone and discuss our journey to our best self and you know, like media democracy or something. I am most excited because I realized today that Arianna Huffington and Aunt Zelda from Sabrina the Teenage Witch ARE THE SAME PERSON.

No one believes me. And yes, I did just take the time to do that. You'll be happy to know that Zelda Spellman has her own Wikipedia page, and you'll be even happier to know that it's extremely informative.

Then I'm helping produce Newswatch's election center. I will basically spend the night on the phone with the Tompkins County Board of Elections, pretending people desperately care who won the Town Council positions. Most of the incumbents in the election have held their positions since the 80s. The suspense is overwhelming.

Somewhere in there I'll fit in a workout and eating. That's about it.

In a totally unrelated note, cherry Starbursts taste like Nyquil.

Wearing Rain Boots 3 Days After I REALLY REALLY Should Have

I tromped around campus today through the puddles and chilly rain and splashed occasionally in the small puddles. It was convenient to have rain boots. I felt prepared. Unlike Sunday, in which Abby thought it would be a FANTASTIC idea to wear flip flops to a regatta pretty much entirely covered in inches of cold, muddy water.

Rest in peace, left Old Navy flip flop. You suffered an unfortunate death during de-rigging. Your body may never be found. But in all honesty, those flip flops cost like 3 dollars. I am just happy I got back with all my toes.

As usual I was saved by my constantly more practical and informed sister, who by magical fate was also at the regatta, and had a pair of huge old sneakers for me to slosh around in.

She rocks. She is also never getting her shoes back. They are pretty disgusting.

They are also still sitting stinkily in my closet. It's not like I'm actually going to be proactive about it.

Anyway, so that was the regatta. My boat happened to get fifth out of twenty-eight teams, which is pretty darn awesome. We also crushed most of the novice New York teams we'll be facing in the spring, which is encouraging.

It's winter training now, which means no more actual rowing. I've been offered the chance to try for a varsity seat in the spring despite my limited experience, which means I have to work my butt off. It started yesterday with a four mile run.

Four miles. I thought there was no way. I entirely avoided any running activities growing up. I felt more natural in the water. Basketball involved mainly shuffling and short sprints, as well as me being freakishly tall at a young age. I put up with it in field hockey just because I liked hitting things...and people...so much. I was a defender. I can't exactly lie and say there was never any shoving involved.

But I did it. I ran four miles. And it was fine. I realized I was in better shape than I thought I was, with this whole "crew" thing. I also got to reap the benefits of that "runner's high" thing, something that I was convinced didn't exist because I had spent most of the runs prior to this one thinking about how much I hated to run. That probably never helped.

So, from now on, I am:

1. Thinking positively.

2. Wearing proper foot attire.

3. Not putting off homework by blogging.

I guess I'll get on that now.

The Birthday Post...and More?

I'm 19 now. Well, I have been for two days.

I'm in college. Procrastination is a luxury I sometimes pay out for.

It's my second in-college birthday, and I have to say it's still a little strange going it alone. But instead of my sister with me, I had amazing friends and teammates. I was serenaded at practice and given a lovely crafty frame with their signatures on it. I came back from practice to find my room covered in balloons, streamers and signs.

I have actually no idea what to do with the balloons. I've piled them in the corner by my desk, surrounding my feet. It's definitely strange but totally cool at the same time.

So it was great. I even had a class cancelled and took a celebratory nap because of it. Me. Napping. It was amazing, and I totally intend to do it again when I have time in...June.

This week I made it through two more exams. It was not very enjoyable. Even the weekend, however, will not involve much sleeping. I have 7:30 a.m. Saturday practice and then I get to see my parents and my sister at a regatta on Sunday! It will be kind of a flashback to high school years, with Claire and I playing sports and my parents lugging Costco products to feed many hungry athletes. Except, now they have to drag them across multiple states instead of down the street. And Claire and I are on different teams.

But I am sure there will be some things that will feel exactly the same. My mom will totally mom (yes, that's a verb now) my teammates without even trying, and they will love her. My dad will probably wear his Indiana Jones hat, on the off chance it is sunny. He will also meet like 9 people from Western Massachusetts. They will instantly become best friends.

Claire and I will giggle excessively.

That is just how these things work. This is how my family functions.

So basically I can't wait for Sunday.

Not, NOT the Birthday Post

I promise I'll tell you how fabulous it was.

But this is just funnier, and more applicable to my attention span right now.

You've heard about ESPN analyst Steve Phillip's "Fatal Attraction" scandal with his 22 year-old apparently production assistant?

Yes?

Well no one produces psycho mistresses production assistants like the Park School!

Oh, and look! She even gave us advice on Dean Lynch's blog!

Awkwardddddd

No, The World isn't Ending, I'm Just Blogging Two Days in a Row

It's no secret that journalism and I have a rocky relationship. It's pretty love/hate.

I think that's just the name of the game, though.

One of my professors said he became a journalist because it was the last adventure job. It could send you anywhere with anyone. This was one of the things I struggled with. I'm a planner, and I hate uncertainty. If you've ever sat helplessly at your desk with one eye one your telephone and the other on the clock eating away at your deadline, you get it.

I was always a reserved kid. The thoughts and crazy ideas I brewed in my head usually ended up on paper or whispered in my sister's ear. Last year, getting up the courage to approach a source at a game or call for an interview took way more internal pep-talking than normal. I'm not a people person, but they fascinate me. I've always been a wide-eyed observer, content to watch interactions and file them away in my puzzle-piece worldview.

I came to journalism wanting to write, and wanting to find replacements for the holes I had in my portrait of the world. No blemishes of deadlines and pyramid structure appeared in my vision of seeking out social and political justice with few strokes of a pen.

Today the adventure of journalism took me on a tree-lined hike through Ithaca for a piece I'm doing for a class on the state of bed and breakfasts in the economic decline. It felt almost like a reparation for its betrayal of my idealistic expectations, its repeated failures as an art and as a science.

After my hour-long walk down I sat in an 200 year old inn, surrounded by smells of baking and old books, chatting with the owner of the William Henry Miller Inn. She was entertaining, helpful, cheerful and warm. The glass china cabinets, paisley rugs, and creaky stairs reminded me of home. Beyond all the bed and breakfast-y charm, however, was a great interview. I'd gone in expecting a tale of a struggling business. Instead, I found an inn that used its kindness to reach success. Needless to say, it was cool.

I hiked back up the hill to campus, wondering why exactly I thought it would be a good idea to walk back up to campus. Right on the edge of campus, I stopped and looked around to see if anyone could see me. Then, I walked over to a tree surrounded by bright red leaves and walked around happily in my boots.

Because, you know, the best way to congratulate yourself on a job well done is stomping on crunchy leaves.

I got back to my room with flushed cheeks and chapped hands. I switched on the television to watch New Orleans finish off the Giants. Collapsing on my bed, I realized journalism had given me a pretty good Sunday.

Break rocks.

A Wonderful Break

I got a call from my mother yesterday afternoon. She was just calling to confirm that I wasn't in some ditch somewhere and was, in fact, alive.

You see, I expected this break to be incredibly low-key. I expected to spend a lot of time doing nothing. So when my parents hadn't heard from me, they wondered. Especially after I didn't return their call.

I've been having a blast. I haven't been sleeping in, but it's been great. When I asked my coach for a land workout I could do over break, I instead ended up with the most intense "workout buddy" ever, our assistant coach E. We pretty much all aspire to be her. So along with two other rowers, A and...A, actually, I've been getting my butt kicked for the past three mornings.

I've been hanging out with A all weekend. We bond especially well because she's 5' 11" and I'm 6 foot. There's a thing about tall women. We automatically understand and relate to each other on some basic level. I mean, the large shoe event at Nordstroms is probably the most civil and cheerful epic shoe sale you will ever experience. It's just how it is. We get it.

And, she's a great workout partner because she has the same goal as I do. We both want to live up to our height--to our potential. So we were ready to gain some ground while everyone else slept. She's also a voice major on an opera path, so you know I totally want to recruit her as an awesome karaoke partner. Right?

Anyway, so I got back from practice this morning and collapsed onto my bed. I turned on college football. I dozed to the sounds of cheers and whistles and men of a certain age talking in dramatic tones. It was beautiful. It actually felt like a break. Of course, I then got up and scheduled an interview for tomorrow. Because I still need to keep in some contact with reality.

And that's my life.

A Breather

I'm taking a little break from studying to blog. Because I feel like it.

And a part of me misses recording the absolutely mundane. I've been doing a lot of my sentimentalization lately. Yes, apparently "sentimentalization" is a word. That's awesome.

Yesterday my political justice group somehow managed to pull out an awesome presentation on the role of FISA in international justice. It's really cool when things turn out way better than you expect.

Then I hightailed it to radio, and there was absolutely no news. None. My local news story was about the debut of a solar powered trash compactor on the Commons.

Yeah.

At practice we did 3k erg tests. I did okay. I wasn't all together thrilled with my result. I know I can do better, and that gets at me, but I know it could have been worse. The problem was that that test was followed by an insanely hard and insanely cold practice. By the end, my throat was swollen and raw and I couldn't breathe deeply without coughing.

I got back from practice and steamed myself in the shower for approximately forever. I then churned out a paper for ethics. By that point I felt absolutely horrible and went to bed early to be up for my 6:30 work shift. I'm pretty sure I broke a fever during the night, and apparently I scared my roommate half to death because I got up at 1am, left the room, and came back approximately 10 seconds later. She asked me directly if she'd woken me accidentally, I didn't respond, crawled back in bed, and passed out. So I guess I was sleepwalking, seeing as I don't remember doing any of this. I did actually feel way better when I woke up.

I am seriously looking forward to four days of break. With which I intend to spend some quality time with my bed and hot liquids. And the frosted covered animal crackers I bought at Target. Them too.

And now, I'm off to my history midterm.