Ringo

THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

Mon, 11 May 2009 05:54:40 GMT

Scavhunt this year was the best scavhunt I have ever been in! My team is excellent and impresses me all the time, and the team of the dorm I live in is an absolute beast with a friendyly and rocking victory party.
I have been awake since 10:30 Saturday morning, which makes this... 38 hours of consciousness?

Thu, 23 Apr 2009 21:41:50 GMT

Hey, so I just replaced my keyboard and I feel like such a badass! Even though some nice Dell employee was basically just telling me what to do. I used tools, bitches! Two screwdrivers, to be precise. Yea, two of them.

Also, this weekend is going to be the Gamelan concert I'm playing in, and it's going to ROCK. I need to write a bio for it. and I keep being too busy or confused to sit down and write one out. It'll be the second concert I'm in this week, and probably the last one all year, since Middle Eastern Music Ensemble's final concert is during scav.

But in 'goddammit' news I am sick again. The orange I failed to eat yesterday is looming ironically on my desk.
I'm so cold all the time.

Fri, 17 Apr 2009 22:51:54 GMT

HEY EVERYONE!

Life has been working out pretty rockingly for me, but also pretty crazy. For example, this past week, I got sick.
I get sick at least two times a quarter, and I'm so tired of being ill all the time. If anyone knows how to magically not be sick, that would be awesome. Science is still out on whether I'm so unlucky is based on a weak immune system somehow connected with food allergies, the low stored-iron level I have which means I am always this week's hamburger away from anemic, or the fact that I am a huge wuss. And by "science" I mean, "people guessing about it in the tea room. "

Meanwhile there are some victories:

1. I GOT A SUMMER INTERNSHIP I AM THE COOLEST. It's a metcalf, which means they give me a $4000 check at the end of the school year. Delicious. Then I work at the Newberry Library, reading dead people's letters about the civil war, the gold rush, the oregon trail, and barbary pirates. I met some of my coworkers when I interviewed, was offered, and accepted the job (all on April Fool's day, good times) and they seem really awesome. There are mardi gras beads hanging from the lights and a picture of one koala punching another on the wall--and there was a stereo playing music, which is always a good sign.

2. I'm going to be an English and History double major. How about that? My BA is most likely going to be on literary representations of criminals in Britain, because that seems fascinating.

3. SCAV IS COMING UP! I ended up as my scav team's hero of time! MacPierce has never had this position before--I'll keep track of all the timed items, and I guess organizing the th/f quad thing falls to me too. I need a name that's as awesome as the hero of time but not stolen from snitchcock. so scav we all.

To Follow Up on Marley's Hilarious Hamlet Post

Sat, 07 Feb 2009 17:10:25 GMT

A few weeks ago, the entire tea room was so taken by "Shakespeare in the Bush" that we waited for Hastie to finish reading it aloud to us before we went to get free borscht. True fact. So in case you haven't run across it yet, it's the story of someone trying to relate the plot of the play to an isolated West African tribe. There's a bit of an intro, but the fun really begins here, if you want to skip down to it:

'I began in the proper style, "Not yesterday, not yesterday, but long ago, a thing occurred. One night three men were keeping watch outside the homestead of the great chief, when suddenly they saw the former chief approach them."

"Why was he no longer their chief?"

"He was dead," I explained. "That is why they were troubled and afraid when the saw him."

"Impossible," began one of the elders, handing his pipe on to his neighbor, who interrupted, "Of course it wasn't the dead chief. It was an omen sent by a witch. Go on." '

What drives men mad? Who killed Ophelia and why? Can omens talk!? All the questions you never thought to ask about Hamlet are explained by wise elders in
http://www.cc.gatech.edu/home/idris/Essays/Shakes_in_Bush.htm

The Forces of Creative Mind

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 20:39:29 GMT

From the awesome people I've shamelessly made to give me things:

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:
1) I make no guarantees that you will like what I make;
2) It'll be done this year;
3) You have no clue what it's going to be. It could be anything. Jewelry, a poem, a contract, a mix CD, a photograph... anything, really; and
4) I reserve the right to make something extremely odd.

The catch? The catch is that you incur a moral obligation to repost and follow through. Creativity is awesome.

This is a pretty rocking idea.

hello hello

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 19:40:33 GMT

so, as you can see by the fact that I'm on the internet, I am back in Gotham!
yay!

When I got here, I celebrated with cookies and House and then unpacking and Dr. Horrible and decorating and submarines and midnight book store raids, but today I'm celebrating by being sick. It is not that good of a time, actually. (Also in the bad news department, my cell phone is broken.) So instead of doing things, I am sitting in my room sniffling and thinking idly about doing things, in theory.
One of the biggest things that I've got to theoretically do is buy foods so I can cook meals for myself. This is pretty much a huge new adventure and I'd like to know:
1. what basic food stuff should I always have on hand (i.e. olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper, butter...)
2. do you have recipes you cook which are super delicious
3. how much this whole thing is likely to cost me per week and
4. oh god oh god am i going to die.
Any answers to these questions would be super amazing.

In closing, I would like to say that my room (Fort Awesome) is up four flights of stairs and damn that is a lot of stairs.

Nice view, though.

IMPORTANT NEWS FLASH STOP

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 04:11:37 GMT

THE COOKIE THAT I JUST ATE WAS DELICIOUS STOP

ps: livejournal EMOTIONS
FULL STOP

SCAVHUNT what.

Sun, 04 May 2008 20:37:23 GMT

Article I—Name

Section 1. The name of this organization shall be The Official University of Chicago Official Scavenger Hunt Organisation Committee, also to be known as The Great Hunt, The Scavenger Hunt, ScavHunt, Scav Hunt, the Hunt, That Thing That Left All Those Cans in the Maroon Office, ScavCore, The Fucking Scavenger Hunt, The Scavenger Fucking Hunt, The Fuckinger Hunt, Jar Jar Binks, ScavCom, Scav Com, ScavComm, Scav Comm, Scavcabal, the Cabal, Cable from X-Factor, Solipsistic Bastards, Ratanna, ScandalCom, El Sindicato, or Ethel.

Article II—Purpose

Section 1.The Scavenger Hunt exists as a group of individuals who subscribe to the philosophy that true enlightenment can only be attained through freedom, and further, that true freedom can only be realized through utter chaos.

-Scavcorp bylaws

Instead of doing work, I'm poking around the scavhunt website. That place is absolute poison to work because it has all the scavlists since 1987. The first item on the 1987 list is:
A Richard Nixon for President Pin -5pts
"Oh man! I HAVE THAT RIGHT HERE" I said to Nathaniel last night, when I should have been writing about Shakespeare.
"Yea, in the beginning, the items for Scavhunt were actually possible things that you could find. It was like a normal scavenger-"
"90. A nude person. -50pts."

After Item 90 there was also
91. A dean -30pts
92. A gagged and bound person -30pts
93. A nude, gagged and bound, dean -500pts

Another item on that list was the complete lyrics for American Pie.

On the site is also the joke 'list' for this year, past theme songs (including "it's raining men" and "I get around" by the Beach Boys aaaaaah), the results of past scavhunts (hey like eighteen years ago, ALL THE HOUSES OF PIERCE came before Hitchcock. It was like opposite universe back then!), and the rules. Other than the threats of deportation from the country for cheating and the ever-present section about props (All props must continue to be mad props), the thing in the rules that most caught my eye was:

Judgment Day. Last year, Judgment Day only took 45 minutes. Let's aim for that again.

In conclusion, you know it's a good game when the first rule ends with the words "If you end up in the clink, it's your fault."

!!!

Thu, 01 May 2008 05:00:34 GMT

Scavhunt starts exactly one week from this moment.

Hello Everyone I Am Still In Another Country

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 15:58:27 GMT

To my constant surprise, I keep waking up

This is my one week anniversary of arriving in France! In my short time here, I have observed a couple things about the country.

First of all, France --well, all of Europe-- is old in a way that America cannot even pretend to be. My town thinks highly of itself for being 'historic,' that is to say, 310 years old. That's ancient for America, but no time at all besides a town like St. Omer, 'une petite ville' much bigger than Princeton, with narrow, cobblestone streets and houses and storefronts built next to each other to form solid walls. There are huge cathedrals built entirely by hand hundreds of years ago. Even the plants seem older-- the trees, on average, taller and the hedges enormous! There are hedges that could replace the walls of two story buildings, I kid you not! So even casually strolling down the least travelled back alley of St. Omer, I could never make the mistake of thinking myself back in the US. It is all kinds of awesome.
Partly because of this, driving in France looks so much harder than driving back home. For one thing, there aren't many traffic lights out here in the North of France. Instead, there are these circles, where cars from the three or four tributary roads take turns entering, following a complex series of rules that would take me months to decipher! For another, sometimes streets are so narrow that cars must take turns passing through. And if you see a car parked halfway on to a curb, that is not at all an accident-- I have even seen parking spaces marked out specifically that go halfway across the sidewalk.
Luckily, I do not have to drive! Instead, it is Cat who sits behind the wheel as we venture on day trips to the surrounding area. So far, I have hiked on a beautful wildlife preserve close to the ocean, seen an Abbey, visited a fortified town (so awesome! The entire town is surrounded by a very high wall and a moat. There is also a high, very pointed tower that once served as a lighthouse.) and gone to Belgium! Belgium is the fourth country I have ever been to, and it was lovely. Unfortunately it was also very rainy that day--I like the way a grey day can be called 'triste' ( which equals sad but in this case, means someting more like cloudy and disagreeable)-- it was exactly like that! All the more so because we were in Ypres and visited a museum and a monument which were both dedicated to the first world war. All the more so because I cannot eat Belgium chocolates. What torture! So I had a very gloomy impression of the country-- until we stopped somewhere for tea. There, in leafing through the menu, I discovered a page entirely devoted to what else but waffles! I quickly signaled to Cat, using half broken french and half mime-like gestures, that oh-my-goodness, it was absolutely necessary that I have an Actual Belgium Waffle. And I was not at all disappointed! In the US, a confection with the same name is actually just a pancake in a different form, but in Ypres, what I got was more like a pastry, served with powdered sugar and butter. Oh man, it was so good. In addition, I now know the difficult-to-pronounce french word for waffle: une gaufre. Not to be confused with un gouffre (an abyss) or une gaffe (a minor social mistake)! As you can see, most of my new vocabulary has to do with food. =) But I also know how to say top hat -- un chapeau haut en forme-- and bowler hat: un chapeau melon.
Driving to and from these places, Cat often turns on the radio. Unlike radio in the US, half the songs are in another language, but like the US, that language is English. Songs I have heard on french radio include Losing My Religion (REM), The Show Must Go On (Queen) and that song featured in Zoolander-- "Wake me up before you go go...". I also heard the opening strains of YMCA before Cat quickly switched stations, saying a phrase in french the emotional equivalent of "We will not listen to this song unless it is over my dead body." I have no way of knowing whether these songs are played often; since before the last three the annoncer declared that they were playing the "mieux des années quatre-vingt" or, the best of the eighties! My conclusion is that radio everywhere is equally ridiculous =)
When I am not having fantastic voyaging adventures, I am most likely eating. In France, the biggest meal of the day is lunch, so I am often expected to eat multiple courses plus a dessert an hour after I wake up. I have also had some amazing dinners, including one composed entirely of 'fruits of the sea': crabs, oysters, whelks, and shrimp. It was very delicious but beware: if you order shrimp in France, they will come with their heads still attached! I had never seen a shrimp head before. It is very long and skinny; with eyes on stalks and long, thread-thin antennae. If you want shrimp here, you get the joy of decapitating them yourself.
I also have had a cooking adventure in France! Knowing the french well, my mother equipped me with all the hard-to-find ingredients for the American specialty of CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES. So, Tuesday morning, armed with my brown sugar, chocolate chips and US measuring cups and spoons, I made the best of bad weather by baking up a storm. There were some difficulties: oven temperatures not in fahrenheit, lack of baking soda and the subsequent substitution of baking powder. But despite all this, the cookies came out perfectly! That afternoon, Cat held a meeting so that a woman could come and sell household cleaning appliances. There were eleven people there, and Cat served my cookies as a snack. The first person reaching for the bowl explained to me, "Je suis gourmande!" because for her, chocolate chip cookies were an exotic food. But soon, people were taking seconds and even asking me for the recipe! I wish that I had a picture of an entire group of french woman happily munching on cookies =)
I stayed for the meeting because right now I am taking every opportunity to hear french. It was something like the famed tupperware parties of old-- a woman was advertising for various cleaning agents for the bathroom, the laundry and the dishes. If the same meeting was in English, I would be bored to tears but because it was in french I was all "woooo! detergents! HOW EXCITING"
Because it makes them easier to sell for some reason, french products often have englsih words or phrases, like 'Xtra-strong', 'black,' 'white,' 'polar breeze,' and 'lunch'. Frequently, there are shirts with english writing that makes very little sense, like 'delicious relationship' and on other products there are english phrases like 'I Love You' or 'Enchanted Night.' I am very suspicious that the exact same things are sold in the US only with french labels.
Another thing I have done is watched two french movies. Now this is something to beware of which is on the same level as the shrimp-heads: the movies that an average french couple will chose to watch casually at home are VERY DIFFERENT than their American equivalents. Well, yes, they are in French. But that is actually a small thing compared to the subject matter. To illustrate my point, here are summaries of the two films I have seen:
Film One
Country-Mouse Sister: wow, here I am in Paris! ROCK
City-Mouse Sister: Ah, you are making all sorts of social mistakes and plus I don't love my husband and I don't spend any time with my son.
Country-Mouse Sister: But I love you!
City-Mouse Sister: Okay, now I am going to yell at you and then have a nervous breakdown. Best friend, I am not happy. What should I do?
Best Friend: I dunno.
City-Mouse Sister: ... You have been sleeping with my husband, haven't you?
Best Friend: Oops.
The country sister is at the train station, very sad. At the last minute, the city sister appears with her son. They look at each other and then start to smile for about two seconds.
THE END.
Film Two
Boy: I am basically a good kid.
Random girl: I want to sleep with you lots.
Boy: Awesome.
(KISSING ensues)
Girl: ps, I killed X for you.
Boy: hahaha... wait. (goes to visit the house, sees X alive) Whew.
Inspector: hey, why were you around the house where Y, X's guest, was murdered?
Boy: Oh shit. (calls girl) We can't see each other anymore because... I have to watch my younger sister?
Girl: noooooooo!
Boy: Aw man I have to visit her right away, incidentally leading the detective trailing me right to her house.
Girl: uh, I killed your little sister. Because I love you. But I'll never kill again. Please stay with me!
Boy: Okay because I am madly in love with you.
Police: knock, knock
THE END
no, really.
As for the first movie, there are Hollywood films along the same lines, except they all mainly concern themselves with showing how the two sisters improve each others' lives Despite Their Differences. It's rather a cliché. But in this film, it was all about the city-mouse sister realizing that her life absolutely sucked. And as for the second film, I believe there is no Hollywood equivalent. After each of these movies, Luc declared that they were good films and Cat added that they were 'bien joué': well-acted.
I am happy to watch films or the news here like I am happy to hear conversations. Most of the time, I am intrigued by the language and am proud to puzzle it out. But sometimes, the constant barrage of foreign words tires me out. More than anything, I long to hear a conversation in English, or at least one that I understand completely. If I am not careful, my mood slips from pride that i can understand french at all to annoyance with myself for not being able to comprehend all conversations. I am also frustrated with my lack of eloquence in French. Speaking English, I take great pride in telling stories that make people laugh, or at least which interest them. To an english speaker the beginning notes of the YMCA would have unlocked at least half an hour of stories about my high school jazz band, our ridiculous costumes, band dances, the songs we had to play, mr. downey, the band-geeks at my school who are so invested in the program that they fight over tuning, etc. In french, I am mute. Long, complex stories are hard for me. Sometimes, I feel like I can make myself understood perfectly and that I am participating well in the conversation. At other times, I trip over the simplest constructions. But on the bright side, such pent-up desire for story telling leads inevitably to these long entries chronicling my adventures =).
Another positve possible side effect of the fact that I cannot speak is that my image here is exaggeratedly that of an artiste! And at the base of things, it does ring a bit true because I do a lot of artsy stuff, but it is ironic that I am thought artistic because of an inability to express myself! Last night Cat said that she could never see me as a house wife with kids, adding that perhaps I would live with another artist but never with a car mechanic (Luc says: maybe with a mechanic-poet). =) I suspect it is a combination of me drawing the garden and reading sceince fiction. Right now I am enjoying some science fiction books IN FRENCH. It is crazy times! Now I know the words like spaceship and light years (années-lumière). Totally useful!
Usually, I only go on the internet when everyone is asleep, since I am at heart a nocturnal animal, but I started writing this during the afternoon when there were a couple hours where I was all by myself. But now people are back and speaking french so I am going to go join them and maybe read more about spaceships! I think I will be a little bit sad at the end of this week when I go to the student dorm and am surrounded once again by students speaking englsh. Good thing my classes are in french =) Farewell for now!

First post... from FRANCE

Sun, 23 Sep 2007 22:48:35 GMT

Hey guess what? I AM IN ANOTHER COUNTRY. This is so exciting, I am going to write a terribly long entry about it. I hope this is alright with everybody.

I don't think I realized that I was going to a foreign country until I found myself waiting in the airport. But once there, seated by Gate 65 with my torso-sized luggage near at hand, I received two hints of what was to come.
The first omen appeared during the second security check:. It fluttered out of my coat pocket along with my wristwatch and my ipod: a slip of paper from a fortune cookie which said " =) You will soon be crossing the great waters. =)"
The second warning was the stab of worry I felt with the loss of my cell phone. I never noticed this before, but with owning a cell phone comes this constant knowledge of who you can call if you are confused, if you missed your flight, if you are lonely; or if your plane has snakes on it (that is: someone who knows what is going on, my parents, you, and Samuel L. Jackson, respectively). And ever since I got my cell phone, I had been subconsciously comforted to know that these people were only a couple of button-presses away from rushing to my aid. This is no longer the case! I have no cell phone. If you call my cell phone now, you will be able to reach my charming and talented father, who is not--though I realize that this is a possible source of confusion--me.
The cell phone was the first of many subconscious securities to be challenged. The second was the idea that I would always be surrounded by people speaking English. "Wait," I can hear you think, "she expected that she would be surrounded by English speaking people IN FRANCE?" No, of course not. That would be silly.
...Yes. Or at least, I did not understand at gut level that I would not be able to decipher half of the information thrown at me, that I would not know all the SAT words or the proper grammar in the language I was expected to communicate in. Well, it had never happened to me before! Intellectual knowledge that people in France speak French and finding yourself there, submerged in an ocean of unknown syllables are two entirely different things. Luckily, I had some great teachers--like Madame Macrae (hah, hah)--... so anyway, I could understand the man taking the passports through a window saying that people were stupid for not getting their papers out faster, and I understood perfectly the discussion between my two francophone neighbors on the plane, which was mostly concerned with Scandalous Things they had done In Amsterdam.
Also challenged was my general approach to new situations; which can be summed up with the sentence "I know what I am doing, or if I don't, it's because no one in my situation can possibly know what the hell they are doing." For me in France, this is simply Not True. For example, a French person would not have been confused about which train car to get on (with a train ticket in France, you get assigned a specific car and seat. Also, the TGV train cars aren't connected to each other on ground-level, so if you have heavy suitcases (me!), you really have to know where you are going (not me!)). I had simply no idea. Thus came the inevitable moment when my self assurance broke down and I ran over to the blue-hatted conductor and blurted out the French version of "Sorry I do not know where I must go, I am an American!"
Oh, the shame of using one's nationality as an excuse for being totally ignorant! But actually, once you do so, people are much more understanding than they would be in the US. The conductor immediately told me where my car was, but added that it was too far away and there was no time so I could totally just get on the car in front of me instead--expect in French and without the 'totally'. And once I was inside, I immediately picked up an English-speaking advocate who even insisted on making a space on the first floor for my wardrobe-sized baggage. I spent the first half of the ride dreading that someone would approach me indignantly and demand as their right my comfortable too-good-to-be-true window seat, like when the Vampire and I got thrown out of our stolen spots at a Morrissey concert, but when that didn't happen I relaxed, and before I knew it, I was meeting Arnaud at the station.
Now let me explain what I am currently doing in France. I do not have classes until October. What I do have, for the next week, is an amazing French family that has a very deep friendship with my mother. So right now I am staying with Cat, her husband Luc, and her son Arnaud. Actually, Arnaud is spending the week at his apartment near his school in Lille, which is all for the best, because upon our arrival, Cat informed him that I would be stealing his room. Arnaud was supernaturally nice about it, and this, along with the fact that he can juggle four balls at once, leads me inescapably to the conclusion that he is made of magic. He also spent some time in England, and so can undoubtably speak English better than I can speak French, but visibly restrained himself from doing so in order to help me learn. Catrine, on the other hand, makes all sorts of excuses to speak in English--to practice, since she is a beginner like me, or, in her words, "I speak English like a Spanish cow." I would totally go around saying that I spoke French like a Spanish Cow, if I were not suspicious that proximity and the closeness of Romance-Cow languages meant that a cow from Spain would be more fluent than I am.
But everyone here says that my French is very good, despite constant evidence to the contrary. Also, they add that my accent is charming, which is a difficult idea for me, since I struggle with it so. On the other hand, I can understand most of what is said to me and half the conversations (the ones that are not about stock markets or really, really fast series of jokes about family relationships). Plus, I have learned some new words, such as the the names of two different types of mussels and the words for shrimp, blackberry, elderberry, quince, and the "scientific" word for 'putain.' Thus, as you can see, I am having a fine time despite the language barrrier: eating well and exchanging cusses. In addition, Cat and Luc have taken me on walks in the country and around St. Omer. Everything in France seems very beautiful and incredibly old.
Now, something about French culture. Because I am very brave, I did a stupid thing and went to France without ever tasting a drop of alcohol. This has to do with this somewhat irrational fear I have of being drunk and is a story for Another Day. However, the consequence is that my mother told this to her French friends, and Cat has been positively wonderful about getting me something else to drink when champagne is served. However, this does not stop everyone from being generally surprised and Luc has, on mutiple occassions declared "La France égale champagne" (France = champagne) while giving me a significant look (and, usually, pouring champagne. On the weekend, it seems to be used at multiple social events). A guest at dinner was adamant that; since I am turning twenty here, I absolutely have to drink champagne on my birthday. Despite the teasing, I have not been pressured in the slightest and as of yet no one has attempted to throw me out of the country.
Anyway, those have been my French adventures so far! And if there is a natural high that comes with teaching, then there is surely also one that comes with learning, with understanding people speaking to each other--or even in holding up your end of a conversation--in French. I am making a lot of mistakes, but I am also really enjoying myself, and, hopefully, improving my grasp of the language. It is kind of like being trapped in a gigantic logic puzzle and I foresee both good and intensely frustrating times ahead of me. Meanwhile, Uchicago classes start tomorrow. Let me wish everyone luck; I still cannot be reached by human means until October, but maybe I will record more adventures, if you all find them interesting =)

Aaaand, it is super-late now. A demain!

Okay, That Pause Was More Dramatic Than I Would Have Liked

Mon, 17 Sep 2007 22:28:42 GMT

Two things!

1. My entries this summer have been notable only in their utter nonexistence. This is because my soul was set on finishing the Scavhunt entries, but the flesh was weak. And by "flesh," what I mean is "dial-up internets." The dial-up internets were weak. Because of this, I have hidden myself away from the liejournals for a Long Time. However! with the successful theft of my neighbors' wireless, scav documenting is once again possible. Better late than never, as I always say after stopping mid-story for an entire summer!

2. This Thursday, I am leaving for FRANCE! I think this is rocking and am really looking forward to it =) Other people think this is confusing. To prevent confusion, I will present some Frequently Asked Questions about my study-abroad quarter:

Wait, you're going to France?
Yes! From September 20th to December 9th!

Why didn't I know this?
Sometimes I am silly and forget that you aren't telepathic. IT WAS NOT INTENTIONAL!

Can you speak French?
Only classroom French, so that is to say, Non. But! I do know how to say "he is a beast on his instrument!" This a very important sentence for me and the coolest thing I have learned in a long while.

How can I get in touch with you?
You can't! Until October, when I will be in Paris with internets. Then you should get SKYPE and contact me that way! You need a microphone and speakers and such and then it is like you are calling me in another country... for FREE! Find me under my name. That is to say, my first and last name which i am not going to give to the entire interweb. Anyway, if you do this I can tell you personally about exciting Frenchventures =)

So why are you doing this?
FRANCE! Also, European history. Also, my entire civ requirement in one quarter. Also, awesomeness.

You're sure you're not trying to flee the country without informing any of your friends?
Reasonably sure, yea =)

Are you going to bring me back the Eiffel Tower?
I would, but they make you pay extra for suitcases that weigh over fifty pounds.

Okay Jane, I am now TOTALLY INFORMED about your trip abroad! Thank you!
That's not a question.

Whatever. When are you going to finish putting up your entry about Scavhunt?
When I uh... look over there! A strandbeest!

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 22:07:58 GMT

there will be a dramatic pause now because i am leaving for plane

see y'all in the shire.

SCAVHUNT: Return of the Entry

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 07:12:03 GMT

CHAPTER THE NEXT: THEY KEEP ME SLEEPLESS AT NIGHT

So, I stayed up all Thursday night to make THE ROCKINGEST KOOL-AID COSTUME EVER with the most inspired arteeest, Amelia.
We are victoriously marching to a class to complete
ITEM 285: Man, this lecture class is so boring. If only a giant pitcher would burst in to distribute fruit punch [21 p-OH YEAH-ints]

It is made out of chickenwire cut and twisted into strands, coated in duct-tape (amazing how much duct tape was used in scav) and shaped and fitted with plastic. The guy wearing it is Aaron, who is rockin'!

That was a good night. Amelia and I worked our fingers to the bone while the sun started shining through the windows of Scav Central, and Aaron sat nearby, studying for

ITEM 97: We give you a piece of chalk. You give us the flow chart of the history of rock according to Dewey Finn - from memory, of course. Be ready to answer questions about it too, 'cause it's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n' roll. [16 points]
(Yea. He had to memorize the BIG FLOWCHART from School of Rock.)
which he completed twice as fast as the other contestants, being naturally rocking. He also wrote a really hilarious
ITEM 82: The first volume of The Adventures of Wikipedia Brown: Boy Detective. [12 points]
I wish I had a copy!

Amelia is also amazing, biologically as well as artistically, as she stayed up all night without coffee and then completed
ITEM 68: A brief, relaxing break. At 1:00 o'clock on Saturday morning, send a representative to Bartlett to chill out for a bit, relate wacky stories about Scavenger Hunt shenanigans and tom-foolery, and drink a can of Red Bull [1 point]. Drink 2 cans of Red Bull [1+2 points]. Drink 3 cans of Red Bull [1+2+3 points]. Drink n cans of Red Bull [(n/2)(n+1) points]. BYORB, cans only, 60 second time limit. [-((n-1)/2)n point vomit penalty]

and after downing multiple cans of Red Bull, she immediately went to sleep.

It was a productive night, because earlier in the evening, Cap'n Sarah had also written

ITEM 26: You other gentlemen cannot deny that when a lady walks in with an itty-bitty waist and round thing in your face, you get sprung. Even Victorian gentlemen are compelled to shout: Baby got bustle. [15 points]

She's just so ... victorian!

[Sir Mix-a-Lot]
I like big bustles and I can't lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough
'Cause you know that bustle's stuffed
Deep in the gown she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get hype
with your daguerreotype
My gentlefriends tried to warn me
But with that bustle I feel so horny
Ooh, bustle-wearin'-lady,
You wanna show me your dainty
white ankles--you flash them
as your bustle's rustlin' past 'em
you know you watch me starrin'
at your shapely derriere 'n
It's round, fat
gotta get a piece of that
I'm tired of famous queens
Sayin' flat butts are the thing
Ask the average gentleman at court
He'll say don't cut that bustle short!
So, gentles! (Yeah!) Gentles! (Yeah!)
Has your lady got the bustle? (Hell yeah!)
Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)
Shake that shapely bustle!
Baby got bustle!

I especially like the daguerreotype line =)
I feel kind of unhelpful though, because our poet was asking questions like:
"what do victorian guys do to impress people??"
and we could only give answers like
"ummm... drink tea?"
"wear monocles?"
"go to court? in a carriage?"

And just to mix it up with some ACTION,
ITEM 206: Where's Waldo? On Friday between 15:00 and 17:00, he'll be somewhere in the Loop. Find him. [25 points]

What made the fact that there was a REAL LIFE WHERE'S WALDO HUNT more impressive was that on this day (friday, actually), there was a HUGE festival event going on at the loop (a central part of the city)--so busy that our Resident Heads were unable to wheel a baby carriage around in it
.
BUT SCOTT FOUND THEM. (far right) Because he is a NINJA!

Earlier on friday morning, MacPierce got its togas ready for
ITEM 320: Perform the Masque of Youth, in the proper location at 11:00 on Friday. But it would be embarrasing if you all showed p in the same outfit, so keep your lines of communication open. [mu points]

The masque of youth was some crazy uchicagoan mural (and event, apparently!) from back in the day

I think we do it proud!
...I like how Scott still has his hat on.

But because Scavhunt is actually all about conformity, there's also a requirement to believe in the Status Quo!
ITEM 321: Stage the cafeteria scene from High School Musical in one of the UofC [see printed list] dining halls during a mealtime. [15 points]
I believe non-Cap'n Sarah Wise was the genius behind this =)

I GOTTA SECRET guys. Jai is a stoner who really plays the cello.

the hapless dinners exchange confused conversation as scavies dance around the table =)
alas that I slept through that. Well, ya gotta sleep sometime...

I also slept through Scavparty. All well and good. In the past, scavparty was this party in the open air, center of campus, where everyone went and drank alcohol while the college authorities were like "na naaaa nananananaaaanaaanaaa... what scavparty?"
However, last year, it was raining so they decided to have it in Cobb, a school building where I have three fourths of my classes.
I wonder how that idea got started?
"LET'S PUT THE ENTIRE CAMPUS WORTH OF ECSTATIC, DRUNK, UNDERAGE COLLEGE STUDENTS UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF SCAV IN A BUILDING. SURELY THEY WON'T DEFECATE IN THE HALLWAYS."
Well...
So not only were they carding this year, but no group was even able to bring any sort of beverage in.
Not my kind of thing anyway. And a good thing that was, since I dropped off to sleep at six-fifteen Friday evening!

I had stayed awake long enough to see the video for this!:
OH MY IT'S

CAPTAIN AMERICA!
For ITEM 74: Enter a lecture class in street clothes. Receive loud phone call. Shout "I NEED TO GO, THE CITY NEEDS ME!" Remove street clothes to reveal superhero apparel. Run out for the good of the land. [18 points]

THE TRIUMPHANT VIDEO:

Even though Sergey was actually not in the class, the professor was convinced that he was, and that he was going to come back. And that his name was Boris. I imagine that was surreal for everyone involved.

Um, so here are some other masterpieces of creation:

ITEM 322:

Judge 1: "Hey guys, what's better, having them donate a standard amount, like $10, to charity, but using one of those giant checks, or having them convince a bank to cash such a check?" Judge 2: "For certain my dear friend, the latter." [20 GIANT points]

LIKE CASHING A GIANT CHECK.

or maybe...

Amelia...

MAKING ITEM 64: Hey kids *sniffle*...it's *whimper*...it's *sniffle*...it's TMX Emo(TM) *sob*. [12 points]
He doesn't actually whimper aloud but
HE HAS HIS OWN LIVEJOURNAL
tmxemo
the poems are hilarious =)
also in the picture: ITEM 172: Were-Care Bear. [5 points]
AND
ITEM 47: Trepanation Barbie(TM) [8 points]

What you can't see in either picture is the BLOODY HOLE IN HER HEAD. Which is a shame. You can see the screw in her hand, which she has for the purpose of trepanatingizing others, though you can't see the two more bloody screws in the basket. This is mostly Agnes' rocking work, but I made the hospital-smock-thing!

OBJECTION

ITEM 83: Send Phoenix, Edgeworth, and Von Karma to the Law School to raise an OBJECTION! [15 points]
pssst- those fancy ruffles are actually toilet paper!
I love the expression on Jacob's face there. Also, one might not know that aside from the ruffles, Jacob is not dressed exceptionally at all. Oh, except he's missing his time-traveling goggles.

Bing was really enthusiastic in his attempts to explain Phoenix Wright. I kind of want to see how a video game based on a court room works =)

And I think this was among the more awesome things created:
ITEM 109: Build a robot that can dance without doing the robot. Because here at Scav Hunt we like smooth moves. [46 points]

Unlike Captain America, its name actually IS Boris.
It is remote controlled. For awesome.
The card in his hand is reference to the MacPierce theme song. I'm not exactly sure what it's called, but the video on the 'tubes features a toy Bush telling us that if the robots win, we'll have to listen to techno.
HECK NO
I'll never listen to techno.
I'm not putting a link to it up here, because that would imply that we made it, which would get confusing.
However, I can recommend it generally as good times.

SCAVHUNT: The Entry Strikes Back

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 07:03:12 GMT

CHAPTER TWO: MY, EARTH IS FULL OF THINGS

At the same time, (OR WAS IT), the following item was being created:
ITEM 25: All clock faces are wrong! TimeCube glorious 4 x 4 clock! Don't you understand? [4x4/4 points]

the genius behind this monster is our very own Jai.
Also, this chemistry clock is rocking by itself:

(the entity you seek is DEATH!
You are a cubic creature.
Singularity is Damnable Lie!
-1 x -1 =-1 EXISTS)
AND THE ONE PICTURE THAT SAYS IT ALL:

STUPID CUBELESS MORONS!

If this has bewildered you,
1. good! although you may be an evil singularity educator and, two
2. go to timecube.com to hear some internet craziness

What is the internet, you ask?
ITEM 219: It's not a big truck. It's a series of tubes. Build the Internet as described by Ted Stevens. [60 points]

unfortunately, I cannot at the moment find pictures of our part-tube, part old computer pieces Internet, nor sarah's beautiful picture of a big truck (which the internet is not).
Here is another team's valiant effort. Go other team!

that is an impressively old computer. In the background, you can see coke cans marked with arabic, another item =)

And speaking of INTERNETS, I'm sure many of you saw Macpierce( IE Team Samosa)'s GREAT VICTORY
ITEM 223: Kids these days seem to eschew the written word. So get either Scav Hunt or your team mentioned in a webcomic with at least a year's worth of archives.[13 points]

ROCK!
We equally showed our mastery of the tubes by trouncing (if I may use the word) all the other teams in
ITEM 80:

For Every 500 People that Join this Group, A Scavvie Will Get It In The Beanbag. [2 points per bags beaned]

Many of you AWESOME PEOPLE joined this group, and I have to give you a big thank you! We broke 1,200, while no other group got to 1,000 at all. Snell-Hitchcock, one of the two teams that traditionally wins (and indeed, won this year), asked us rather desperately how we got our friends to join the group. This leaves us in the position to say "HAHAHAHA WE HAVE MORE FRIENDS" as if what your friends do or don't do on facebook has any bearing on anything. =) I mean, of course it does... yay! two more points

SCAVHUNT: The Entry Begins

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 06:39:10 GMT

I heard a rumour once that when people are shut in a room without any means to tell time, some of them double the length of their days so that they spend twenty four hours awake and twenty four asleep.
I am one hundred percent convinced that this is utter bullshit.
I know it's bullshit because about a month ago I spent Thursday through Sunday on a 34 hour awake- 17 hour asleep- 28 hour awake sleep-schedule, and doing this required more caffeine than non-Downey humans should ever be able to consume in their lifetimes.

And the reason I pulled off this superhuman stunt?

It begins in S-, is absolutely ROCKING AWESOME, and ends in -CAVHUNT.

THIS IS AT ONCE THE LONGEST AND MOST INTERESTING POST THAT I HAVE EVER MADE.
To prevent the explosions of brains, I have divided this up into Chapters. The surgeon general would probably suggest that you should just read one chapter, comment if you would like, stretch, walk around, and generally take a break before continuing on. Of course, if you want to be RECKLESS WITH YOUR HEALTH, go for it! I experienced it continuously as well =) ....Of course, now I'm insane. There is that.

I'll be getting them up as quickly as I can, seeing as right now I am also packing everything I use to define myself here at THE University of Chicago into dull brown boxes.

READY?

CHAPTER ONE: IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS LIGHT

Scavhunt is a University of Chicago ADVENTURE. It started twenty one years ago, and has evolved into what is often called the largest Scavenger Hunt in the world (I don't know who makes these calculations. However, it sounds like fun times). It lasts from Wednesday at Midnight, when clues to finding The List are sent out, until Sunday (Mothers' Day), also known as JUDGMENT DAY. In addition to a whole slew of things to create, invent, perform, or pretend that we in some way understand, there is a Road Trip that has gone to mythical far away places (including, one year, Princeton and Atlantic City) and Scavlympics (which consists of people running around doing silly things). This year's list included 329 Items. 329 ITEMS OF WONDER.

Like most forms of insanity, it sneaks up on you slowly. On Wednesday, I did nothing but help sing It's A Long Way From Amphioxus, a catchy song which is the theme of some biological school that sponsors us. IT IS A ROUSING MELODY ABOUT THE ANCESTORS OF VERTEBRATES. We have to sing it out on the quads to earn our sponsorship, and by "we" I mean MacPierce, a valiant group of scavies from Maclean and Pierce dormitories who unite to form a formidable force. Or something along those lines. Anyway, on Wednesday, you may have passed us as we were singing:

"He sulked awhile down in the sand, without a bit of pep;
Then he stiffened up his notochord and said, "I'LL BEAT 'EM YET!"
"Let them laugh and show their ignorance, I don't mind their jeers."
"Just wait until they see me IN A HUNDRED MILLION YEARS!""

A fitting theme for us all, I believe. I spent the rest of the day frantically studying about knights and samurai, which was over all a good decision, but I had the amazing fortune of being in Scav Central at around 12:30 for the excitement!

In the past, teams have found the lists in library books in the reg (the main library on campus), or were put in a Game-Theory situation where the longer you stood in a square before getting the list, the more points you got. This year, our only clue towards the list was the envelope you see before you!
Inside was a list cover page followed by thirteen pages of blank paper. MYSTERIOUS!

This CLEARLY means that the lists were at 1225 60th Street. And by "clearly," I mean "I THOUGHT that HQ looked funny!"

ANYWAY HERE WE HAVE THE LIST

OH MY GOODNESSES! VICTORY! Marcel is glowing with pride. Also, injury, since he risked life and limb to bring back the list in an appropriately jubilant manner, thus incurring the First Wounds of Scav.

When I came back from my midterm Thursday afternoon, I immediately went down to Scav Central and found myself drafted to create my first item.

ITEM 76: What's the story, Wishbone? Oe dipus Rex. [17 points]

!!! It's Wishbone!

AND it's Joe's girlfriend, and, unbeknownst to him, MOTHER! Scandal?

Behind the scenes of the DRAMATIC production! I play the Hobo and Joe's "Mother." Poor Bing under the table there gets to scroll down so that we can read the script that Debbie and I made. He ALSO gets to strangle Jocasta.

And with that introduction:

the last line was Cap'n Rob's idea =)

and that's how the insanity began.

COMING SOON to a livejournal near you.

Fri, 08 Jun 2007 04:37:22 GMT

ITEM 96: Get Don LaFontaine to narrate your official trailer of Scavenger Hunt 2007. [45 points]

yah, it's really Don Lafontaine! Rock.

The long awaited entry will be posted in sections. It'll be posted like that for two reasons--1. IT'S TOO BIG TO BE POSTED ALL AT ONCE and 2--i repeat: I TRIED TO POST IT AND LIVEJOURNAL SAID NO. It was the saddest day of my life. But I'll finally get it on the interwebs tonight, over a month after I've written it,! IT'LL BE SO AWESOME!

LOLFREUD

Mon, 04 Jun 2007 18:06:05 GMT

this will only be funny to about two people... one of whom is probably me =)

so much more fun to talk about than repressions....

ANYWAY

MY SOSC ESSAY IS BASICALLY DONE! YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!

this is by way of celebration =)

ur lols. tell me about them

Lolfreud was looking lonely, so I created an even greater monstrosity

LOLMARCUSE

aren't we all bein repressd, lolmarcuse...

and finally:

PERHAPS one of the nerdiest things I have ever done. Now back to my ten page paper on castles. mmmmm castles =)

Well, okay, that explains everything.

Sun, 03 Jun 2007 08:51:57 GMT

While the pleasure principle dictates that I direct the sublimation of my libidinal instinct into playing Katamari Damacy or drawing comics (since artistic work is non-repressive) or finally getting the scav post together, the production principle—or should I say,the historical form of the reality principle—requires that I finish this essay regardless of the absence of scarcity of Sosc papers about Freud and Marcuse. How I long for the day when I can shake off this surplus-repression of a civilization of arranged domination and end the conflict between Eros and the aggressive death-instinct, preventing the destructiveness of the latter by removing all tensions, thus combining it with the Nirvana principle in life! It will be so glorious to overcome the myth of Ananke, made obsolete by labour-reducing technology, and finally live in a civilization propped up by non-desexualized instinctual energy.

In other words: AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH. Finals.

Shite.

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 09:24:14 GMT

We are playing assassins and I have just gotten the most applauded, the most intense agent from last year--the figurehead, or mascot if you shall--and now my days are numbered like the days of a dodo bird. The entire house is sort of mad at/in awe of me and
I AM ALREADY AN EXTINCT SPECIES.

As Morrissey says

Friday Mo(u)rning
Comes a time
A fall that breaks
This very smug mug of mine

Wish me luck--
Lancelot

UPDATE: Aaaaand I'm already dead! Betrayed by a friend on the way to class. SADNESS, but I survived longer than I thought I would (ie longer than the first night) and I took Sergey down, so mine was a brief but glorious run =)
...Besides, I then got rocking homework help from my assassin, which I understand does not happen in real life too often!

Here are the lovely announcements Mel wrote up about my assassinatin' adventures

Tragedy in the Hallway

True drama unfolds, full of chivalry, betrayal, and cunning
surprise attacks, as Lancelot shot Vasily Zaytsev just before
the clock struck three on this woeful morning.

Watch out everyone, the plot thickens...



Morning Murder...

Chivalry may be dead.  In a plot thick with trust and
betrayal,  Cyanide drew sword and killed Lancelot in a knightly
battle, while walking along a deserted path.

Good morning mortality...




yup, that's pretty much how it happened =)

Now I get to sit back and watch everyone else's paranoia for the next couple days.
This game is awesome.

SHOREY HOUSE DRAG SHOW

Mon, 16 Apr 2007 06:40:20 GMT

.... pation!

Tom (the Hostess): So, like all pageants, I am going to ask all the contestants a question and that question is: What do you want most in life?
Contestants: whaaa?
Tom: You know, what do you want most in life? Like, if I were asked that question, I would say “Shoes”

("Oh by the way, betch...")

Ken (Amanda): i gotta say a party with my girl barbie is pretty much all i need... which is difficult because, you know, Ken has nothing there.

Barbie (Julian): ...
Ken: -nudge- Come on, Barbie, say the same thing!
Barbie: I would like ...harsher penalties for parole violees! and and and, and world peace.

George Michael (Sylvia, our RH) “I would like...I would say I would like to have the best body in the world...

...but I already have the best body in the world. So I would like to maintain my six-pack until i am a hundred years old. Walk around with my shirt open like, I am one hundred years old... I have a six pack

Ambrosia Salad (Ponce) “I just wanna shake it”

(no pictures can describe. Music: hips don't lie)

Cindy (Matthew): I would like nothing more than love. As much love as possible” -hugs Sylvia and Ponce)

(time after time. I went to the thrift store with this one and I FOUND THIS DRESS. THAT'S RIGHT, I want some credit.)

Nick: “I'm with her. I want all of them” -points to crossdressed girls-

(I would like to point out that Nick still has his moustache)

Megan, Ileana, Stella, and Cathrine aka kelvin, Serkey, Nick and Stefan:
throwing up gang signs: “BYAHHHH”
Tom: how do you even spell that?

(Calculus. YOU. PLUS SIGN. ME. EQUAL SIGN. US)

Verdict: Amazing. No, I did not crossdress but I made pretty flowers for those that did, and helped decorate with the phallic balloons. Then I spent the time before and after speculating with Marcel. I especially wanted his opinion because he was the most talked-about of last years cross-dressers, next to Tom. Everyone says things like "And Marcel... was prettier than me and I didn't know how to feel about that."

My conclusion is that these people are all rocking.

Shorey House, you are awesome.

STUDIO BAND AIN'T NOTHIN' TA FUCK WITH

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 06:43:40 GMT

this entry is all about BANDS!
The first story is about my high school band, and is dedicated to my fellow band nerds. However, it was written carefully to provide an introduction to Studio Band for those who are clueless, and maybe share with you some of the spirit of the thing. I'm finding that I miss Studio Band as much as I miss CTY, which surprises me. SO WHAT I AM SAYING is that it is for everybody! READ IT.
The second story should be read by those who believe that the reign of hair metal ended too soon.
The third, very short story is for those who like... rambling?

Studio Band Is Not Anything That You Should Be Fucking With

   The best part of Princeton High School is the Studio Band. The orchestra sucks. The guidance office sucks. Half our teacher suck AND HAVE TENURE. Our sports teams really suck. I remember when the football team won its homecoming game one year, and the school almost had a heart attack. We weren't exactly sure what it meant to have a team that didn't lose. Fortunately, they promptly lost all their other games and life went back to normal.
    The band is different. It is powered by coffee--mostly in the form of Downey, our Italian-turned-Irish band director who drinks twelve Dunkin Donuts mediums a day. And being a jazz band, it is composed almost entirely of rebels who don't give a damn about school and run their teachers around in circles. They run Downey around in circles, unless it is proven to them that band is Worth It. Then they reveal themselves to be amazing, dedicated musicians. Brilliant. They memorize pages of impossible music. They transpose all of the mountain of music that they play to the key of c for the flute part. They meet after school for hours at least once a week, do a band dance once every month or two, and get into punching fights over tuning. Simply put, they are awesome.
    And the administration hates them and denied them competition this year, but somehow they all got on a bus this Friday and headed for Berklee, Boston. My brother plays tenor sax (ROCK) and my Dad came along as a chaperone, so I know how it went:

Downey: I know you guys are excited, but it's like the planets evolving around the sun
Band: Mr. Downey, isn't it REvolving?
Downey: No, that's too Italian for me!
Band: ...
Downey: GET IT? revolving? LIKE REVOLVER? HAHAHAHAHA Anyway, it's like the planets, they're all in alignment, and then one of them goes out of order and EVERYBODY DIES.

In a huge competition like that, everything is very tightly run. You have twenty minutes to set up, eighteen to play, and five to leave, and if you go over that, you are disqualified. We only won one competition last year, so Berklee was the proof, the test, the validation of the band. Everyone was very nervous. They set up quickly as possible. Dad had a stop watch, and near the end, he called out "EIGHTEEN MINUTES!" But apparently the judges had set their clocks later, because when Downey asked "How much time do we have left?", they said that the band had eight.
The band was already all set up. Downey got a huge smile on his face. He turned toward the judges and said
"Let's dance."
For those eight, unrecorded minutes, they rocked it like a band dance. They played Never Been in Love Before as Downey slow danced with a band parent. They played Bill Bailey and the judges' mouths hung open. Downey called out songs left and right and the band pulled them up, because that's what the band is about. They play more than three songs a year.
But can the band absolutely master three songs? In the next sixteen minutes and thirty six seconds, they played Whiplash, Of Another Time, and Cherokee perfectly. Later that day, they learned that Sam Smith got Best Soloist in their division. And, as they formed the familiar huddle and held hands frantically, they were kept on tenterhooks until their name was announced last.
After the words "And in first place..."

After sundown, Dad's phone call found me on a Greyhound bus, riding through Indiana. When he told me the news, I yelled "YES!" so loud that I made the tired student sitting next to me jump. That's still how I feel now: proud, validated, insanely jealous, kind of in the mood to wake up an entire busload of people. You all get this instead.

Before the judges' decision, to the news cameras:
Bob: Studio Band is the best! See, the other bands are here *holds out hand* and we are HERE! *holds hand higher*
Flo: *pushes Bob's hand up even further*

At an improv play called Sheer Madness that had clearly done their research:
actor: That's not my pot! That's... Matt Gerard's pot!
flamboyantly gay character: Mr. Downey taught me the up-down method!

At the hotel, where, unbeknownst to the people planning the trip, marines and coast guards constantly came on their weekends off to get drunk, at three in the morning:

The vice principal, looking "as if he had been held prisoner three days without sleep" surrounded by drunk, muscled guys holding hard drinks and wearing kilts: You do not want to go into that room. It is filled with very young high school girls.
drunks: We don't?
Vice principal: no. please go back to your rooms.

Sam, to the vice principal who spots him getting off the elevator at five in the morning: Hey, Mr. Highlander! It's okay, everything's under control!

BRINGING BACK THE EIGHTIES
My other brother, Sam, is aiming to be a rockstar! Right now he is a guitarist for the infamous hair metal band, Glammaster. By infamous, what I mean is that they had a concert as part of some noncompetitive yet battle-of-the-bands type function, and they got cheers, applause, and a Fans of Glammaster facebook group (A SURE SIGN OF SUCCESS). The guys in the audience took of their shirts, "cause the girls won't!" and threw them onstage. Where, apparently, they were much missed, since they immediately went on stage after them. The result was that the band was suddenly surrounded by shirtless guys, who were shortly holding the lead singer up in the air in a show of enthusiasm. There were also french exchange students in the audience who told the band that they were "fantastique!"
Here's a list of some of the songs they played:

Sex Cousin
Sexecution
This Ain't No Sexual Picnic
and
Eye of the Tiger

Unfortunately, not even my brother knows the lyrics, with the exception of the chorus of the second, often shouted by the crowd, which goes, "Sexecution! ALL. NIGHT."
As you can see, truly a masterpiece of metal =)

Because two bands are not enough
My father, who plays about a billion different instruments, all by ear, without reading a note of music and mastering the toughest time signatures, is performing with his jazz band for the first time this friday. It'll be reaaaallly awesome AND his college roommate is coming to surprise him. EXCITING. Nobody tell. I've never met the guy, so it'll be interesting. Maybe when I am a famous author the vampire will come and visit me! But then she will be distracted by Seth, who will be a much more famous author and I will be like "Dash it all! I should have been a jazz musician!"
Meanwhile, Dad told me the history of the song My Funny Valentine today, which is a damned good jazz song. It's really slow and in a minor key, but apparently once it was a fast show tune. If you can imagine that! It was also sung by a woman, which explains the lyrics DEPRESSINGLY WELL.

THE DRAMATIC CONCLUSION:
So I think what I am saying here is that my house is extraordinarily musical. I am so lucky =)

LE HUZZAH!

Fri, 09 Mar 2007 04:33:40 GMT

So... I'M GOING TO FRANCE!
Paris, autumn quarter. It's a civ, so the class is European History... IN FRENCH. Basically the most amazing opportunity ever. AND I found out this morning, right before going to my French lector exam, which I ROCKED to its very foundations! Now all I need to do is learn how to speak, read, write, and understand the language and I WILL BE ALL SET. I think the language is called "france-ish": I'll have to do some research. And hey, is HUZZAH masculine or feminine because I think I may be confusing genders--
IN CONCLUSION:
yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

In other news I suspect that most people have a different spring vacation than I (tears). I say SUSPECT because only two high school friends answered my post so I have to say, what is the matter guys ARE WE BREAKING UP? If you truly never want to see me ever again, I feel like I should do something to deserve it and with THAT introduction:
http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/365143
=)
DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME IF YOU VALUE YOUR SANITY. The person who made it is a sick, sick... genius. Someone should hunt him down and ask him how the HELL you can kill werewolves with shoe polish. Now how does that make sense in any way. How does it make sense that I've played it so much that I'm on number seventy-something? The horseshoe one. what. the. hell.

In other other news we chanced upon a high tea place that was absolutely lovely about my nut allergies and this gives me HOPE FOR HUMANITY! In other other other news, I've chosen Battlestar Galactica over Babylon 5 (the same group of people are watching both but I don't know... the second doesn't grab my attention) but first I have to finish Firefly but also I have this obligation to color crayon pictures and basically what I am saying is that life is good =)

Sorry to miss you all back home and
Good luck with the quiz!

Thank you, thank you; I'll be in town all week,.

Tue, 06 Mar 2007 07:48:40 GMT

It has been called to my attention that because of the wondrous wonders of the Quarter System (of Wonders!) I may not have the same break as you all. MY CRANLAND/PRINCETON TOUR lasts from the 17th to the 26th. Of whatever month we're in--MARCH. I knew that. So please tell me when you have Spring Break so I can rejoice with anticipation (YAY) or steel myself for the loss of your valuable presence (boo.). If you ARE going to be around, tell me whether you want to eat at Hoagie Haven. Hoagie Haven is seriously lacking at University of Chicago, and I cry sad tears every time I have the wish to eat a buffalo chicken cheese-stake at one in the morning. THAT WISH IS NOW UNFULFILLABLE.

with sadness-
Jane

ps-- is this not the most ridiculous meme question ever:

9. Can you do push ups?:

appropriate answer: NO BECAUSE I NO LONGER HAVE ANY ARMS.*

The Criminal Lack of Lives of Crime

Mon, 05 Feb 2007 00:15:27 GMT

Thanks to the magic of Livejournal, I have just found out that most of my friends HAVE NEVER CONSIDERED A LIFE OF CRIME. Inqueries around Shorey House have lead to the same surprising conclusion.

WHAT? As a young child, you never considered holding up a bank with a bandana over half your face, then running through the wilderness/desert/suburbia with the police hot on your trail to your SECRET HIDEOUT, where you would have snazzy oriental rugs and a refrigerator and maybe a butler and they would never find you? And you would go from city to city, breaking in to the most well-guarded buildings with almost ninja-like stealth, maybe even sending a letter to the bank first saying that you were in the area, but YOU WOULD STILL ESCAPE? And maybe you would be generous and give back to your community, in which you would be a beneficent but mysterious stranger--that is, if you stayed in one community long enough... Your wanted poster would be in all the post offices, and you may actually be in the WILD WEST?

never? Before this, I thought that this romanticized criminal was an essential part of being a child, kind of like wanting to run away and join the circus, or growing up to be a firefighter or a rock star. Wasn't it part of the American Dream that if you are just not making it in the ol' colonies but you were really clever, you could always move Out West and become an outlaw (with guns!)?
I could be making this up, but if so, why does everyone love Ocean's Eleven and ROBIN HOOD and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?

So, maybe now that I have made it less about shoplifting and killings, tell me:
have you really never considered a life of crime?

ps- guys I am seriously not a criminal okay? Hobbes lols!