Easiest Job in the World

It's no lie that I live the good life. While it may be "stressful" at times, I've managed to pretty much skirt through life with minimal manual labor or non-scholastic work on my part. I'm talking, of course, about my ability to only get jobs that are slightly more advanced than what a monkey can be expected to do. In my work career, the hardest job I've ever had would probably be the hellish summer I spent as a camp counselor. Really that was more taxing on my will to live than anything. Ever have a secret desire to become a teenage mother? Get a job as a camp counselor for overprivileged six year olds, it will keep you celibate for years. Other than wanting to stab my eyeballs with rusty nails, all I had to do was craft, sit by a pool and play Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago for hours. Occasionally I would fear for my job future when a kid, who clearly watched too much television, would threaten to tell their mother I hit them if I didn't let them have an extra ice cream at snack time, but really minimal effort involved in that job.

Once I got to Bryn Mawr the work study scene emerged as quite possibly the biggest steal in the world. In exchange for getting up an hour early twice a week and chopping cucumbers, I received a weekly paycheck that was exactly the amount I needed in order to have a bit of fun that weekend. If we were feeling particularly risky and were going to have more than just a little bit of fun, I could easily throw in an extra hour pouring wine for drunk faculty, padding my wallet a bit more. 

After I grew bored with chopping cucumbers I added an additional side job running after soccer balls to my work schedule. This was an even bigger steal, all I had to do was stand still for 5-10 minutes at a time, broken up by brief periods of light jogging. Exercise, sun, and entertainment, all while being paid.

Even my summer job at CES, while time consuming, really involves nothing more than the ability to count and common sense. Count keys, sort keys, set up table, break down table, answer phone, take message, don't ask questions when given a task that sounds illegal. Simple. 

I have completely outdone myself this semester in terms of jobs that make you question your worth as a human. I run the CD player for Bryn Mawr basketball games. 

I started the season running the scoreboard, a surprisingly stressful task. Basketball games are by nature very fast paced, any hesitation or stoppage of the clock results in bad things, such as babies being killed, or at least that's what people made it seem like. I like to think I did a fairly good job running the scoreboard, to my knowledge no babies died as a result of my failures. When I showed up to the following game, however, I was informed that I had been moved over to "music". "What does that involve" I asked my boss. He shrugged and said "Press play when the time out starts, press stop before the time out ends". Wow. Sounded difficult, but I think I could do it. I moved to the end of the table (being ostracized from the side that had people actually relevant to the game, major blow to my ego) and became acquainted with Phil, the 70-something year old man that does the play by play for the 5 fans that come to the games. Phil had a long list of instructions of what songs he wanted played at what point. National anthem before introductions, Jock Jams track 1 (Let's get ready to rummmmmmmbllllllleeeeeee!) after introductions, then tracks 4, 11, 17, 18, 20 and 24 rotating through timeouts as needed. Alright, I could do that. Long story short, I couldn't. I misread the 18 as a 16 and played that instead. Phil was startled and shouted "This isn't 18!" as the YMCA blasted through the gym. I meanwhile was throwing my arms up above my head into a Y shape and was shocked to learn that I had messed up what is possibly the easiest job in the world. Phil thought for a moment, looked around the gym to see people twisting their arms into various shapes (none of which looked like M, C or As) and decided "alright, alright, I think we're ok, they seem to be enjoying this one". I decided the YMCA would be my secret weapon, every time I wanted a power struggle I would switch on track number 16 and go wild. I was ready to whip it out again at the end of the half when Phil caught me and said 'NO NO NO! Number 20....I like 20" So instead of throwing up a Y I was instead bopping along to "nuh nuh nuh nuhhhhhh nuhnuh HEY nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh". Oh well, next time.

The next game brought what has become a tradition, the getting me worked up into thinking that I might be given a job of consequence before banishing me to the cd player at the last minute. My friend Georgia hadn't shown up 10 minutes before the game and people became concerned that we wouldn't have anyone taping the game for future reference (or whatever reason you tape a game). I was told to run across the court (in my muddy boots, which I was later chastised for) and get a crash course in videography. Just as I climbed up the ladder and took control Georgia came running in, bruised from an unfortunate encounter with a patch of ice but nonetheless ready to video tape the game. I was sent back over to the CD player to began another epic power struggle over when to play the YMCA.

Today was a showdown for the ages between the 1-16 Bryn Mawr Owls and the 1-10 Trinity (D.C) Tigers. I raced over from my cousins baby shower, worried that I was going to be late. When I arrived at the gym 10 minutes late I was disturbed to see that I was the only one there. Damn you all. People gradually arrived and sat down at their posts. With 3 mintues to go we had no one keeping the book. The very important job of keeping the official record of fouls, points and time outs. This was my chance, I was called up to the big leagues. My boss sat me down and explained the book and it's responsibilities in detail. I was ready. I was going to rock this job and finally prove my worth to the table. At the last minute the bookkeeper came racing in and my boss turned to me and said "Well, looks like you're back on music!" and smiled a cocky smile. I shouldn't be angry, they really don't need me, I should be happy that he's willing to pay me to do so, and don't get me wrong, I love getting paid for doing nothing, but I had pumped up my self worth and had it deflated all within a minute. I slid down the table and nodded cordially at Phil. Let's go! National Athlem, introductions, "Let's get ready to rummmmmbllllllllleeeee!!!!! nuh nuh nuh nuhnuhnuh NUH NUH NUH NUH NU *abrupt stop, time for the game to begin*". First time out, I decide to go with track 20 rather than track 4, riiiskkkky. Phil tosses me a warning glance, he has no time for tom foolery. During the game I casually mention to Phil that I can burn some CDs for the next game, Phil shakes his head and tells me that's not necessary. Really? REALLY? Nothing really epic happened during the game, but I nearly lost my control on reality when during one of the final time-outs of the second half Phil leans over and says "Play the YMCA....that always gets 'em going" That's a three point field goal for Marianna right there.

Judging people I don't know

As I mentioned earlier in this blog, I take a class at Penn once a week. I've done this a couple times before and have enjoyed it. Going into the city once a week (although I say I go to school in Philadelphia, I actually go to school in "fake Philadelphia" as Chiz calls it) gets me off campus, forces me to plan ahead and be organized and allows me to meet people who are different than me. I mean different, very different. The kids in my Penn classes are NOTHING like the kids you meet in the Bi-Co. I have to take time before getting on the train to the city to plan out what I am going to wear. I can't wear sweats, nothing stamped with the word "Princeton" (which rules out half my wardrobe) everything down to my shoes has to look respectable. I'm never going to get to the level of fashionable that most of the people are in my classes, but I can at least look respectable. Even pulling my hair up into a ponytail gets a disapproving look sometimes. As a result, no matter how hard I try I always end up looking like a crazy cat lady when I walk into the class room. This week I sat across from 5 guys who each dressed in a completely different style, each one of them looking like a tool. While I didn't know it, I was in the early stages of bronchitis at this point and was totally unable to focus on anything other than the fact that I was staring at five of the biggest tools ever. So I of course wrote down everything I could about them and made up what I believe to be their backstories. Other than their wardrobes, none of this information is fact. Here we go.

Guy # 1

Style: European

Clothes: Scarf, shiny black ankle boots (what?) Tight pants, vintage jacket

Hair: Carefully gelled into a slight faux hawk

What I think his name is: Mark

Possible alternative for names: Evan

Where is he from: New York

Level of toolishness: Clothes and personal grooming were very tooly. My buddy Ari thought he was incredibly attractive, I disagree. He didn't say anything stupid during class, however, so we'll put him down as just a tool.

Guy #2

Style: Grunge, but stylishly grunge

Clothes: T-shirt with a picture of some famous musicians mug shot. I could see who, but I've seen the t-shirt around. Black zip-up sweatshirt, khaki pants that were surprisingly not ripped or torn. Black sneakers with white socks (bad choice)

Hair: Under a baseball hat

What I think his name is: Adam

Possible alternatives for name: Dan

Where is he from: Lower to Middle Bucks County, PA 

Level of toolishness: Least toolish of the five. He made me in my sweatshirt (it was cold!) look good. Spent all of class with a smirk on his face. Minor tool

Guy #3

Style: Caroline's ideal man (I get one dig at Caroline per every 4 entries)

Clothes: Black blazer, faintly blue collared shirt, finely pressed khakis, loafers, pink tie

Hair: Short, perfectly styled. Strangely flat on top

What I think his name is: Michael (not Mike)

Possible alternatives for name: Alex

Where is he from: New York City suburbs, most likely Westchester County, possibly Connecticut

Level of toolishness: Massive tool. He wore a blazer and tie to class. His shoes were polished. He didn't speak at all during class but instead snickered to his buddy (see Guy #4). Obviously Wharton. 

Guy #4

Style: Preppy

Clothes: Yellow oxford shirt under a black fleece North Face pullover. Khaki pants, sneakers with no socks (there was an ice storm going on outside, bad decision)

Hair: A bit tussled, most likely grown out after a haircut at the beginning of winter break

What I think his name is: Andrew

Possible alternatives for name: Kevin

Where is he from: Massachusetts, probably Newton. Also perhaps from Virginia, Arlington area. Also, it just hit me, maybe Maine.

Level of toolishness: I was going to put him at massive tool, because he was friends with our other massive tool, but he won my heart when he was answering questions. As I mentioned in a previous blog entry our professor teaches by asking open ended questions that no one knows the answer to. Guy #4 was so flustered by this that he began shouting out random answers just to end the awkward silence. It led to such exchanges as:

Professor: So when you build a town around a company the first thing you'll need is a......

Guy #4: Fire truck!

So I'm downgrading him to tool. I will also spend the semester trying to woo him. 

Guy #5

Style: Dorky cute (I despise those who use the dorky cute as a fashion sense. Unless you are a clueless dork, it doesn't work! If you are fully aware that you look like a dork, then you are a dork)

Clothes: Collared grey knit longsleeve, jeans that were slightly flared at the bottom, glasses, new sneakers with yellow laces

Hair: shaggy, brown and curly

What I think his name is: Jeff

Possible alternatives for name: Charlie

Where is he from: I'm going with St Louis just because I have no clue and the random people are always from the midwest. 

Level of toolishness: As a person, he's only a minor tool. But he kept butting in to add his own two cents on everything which bumped him up to a big tool

I had more to say on all of these guys, but I was unable to write it all down when I got back from class because I was so sick. I picked a good week to get sick, our entire campus is completely covered in ice. So I'm not going anywhere, but it's all good because if I did go anywhere I would slip and die. Merion Green, a nice lawn in the middle of campus that everyone likes to hang out on when it's warm, is completely covered in snow that is then covered in two inches of ice. As it is on a bit of an incline, it is possible to stand at the top of it and with a bit of momentum slide your way to the science center and/or gym. That could be a fun experiment if I wasn't so afraid of pain.

Give me a child until he is seven, and I will give you a man

10:03-Worst day ever. Not sure how long I'll last here. I have bronchitis and quite frankly feel like death. Also, the soda machine just stole my money...technically it was Megan's money so I'm not as upset as I would otherwise be. I'll be frank, however, this is FAR from my best work.

10:06-Not sure what we're watching. Megan dropped the ball and didn't get Darkon, so now she has to wear a dunce cap and make an apology. Nicky brought backups, it appears we're watching the 7up series. The 7Up series follows a bunch of British youngsters from the age of 7 in 1964 through present day. 

10:10-Drew is missing. Ari is here but Drew is not. Ari goes up to her room because she is concerned that he might be "touching her stuff" which apparently is "against the rules"

10:11-Nicky makes the speech. She makes fun of Megan using an incredibly obscene phrase. Wow. Unexpected. WHOA! Surprise twist, Nicky dropped the ball and had her Netflix sent to her house rather than her house. She claims it's Netflix's fault.

10:13-Megan's apology takes the form of an interview as Paige berates her, questioning her allegiance to the club

10:14-"Enter the struggling world of the seven year old"

10:15-Already have a favorite, he wears a scarf and speaks ridiculously proper. He would judge me for saying "ridiculously proper"

10:17-All of the kids are horrible at time management. They're all late for school

10:21-Suzie has a 13 year old boyfriend. Holy moly. I don't really know how to handle this news

10:22-hahahaha, they're beating the crap out of each other

10:24-Capturing the Friedmans has left us all a little sensitive to comments about the children

10:29-Nicky tries to bring up the fact that she didn't get to go outside during school again. 

10:31-There is one kid who serves as his house captain. He's a jackass, but I want to be him. He leads exercises and the band....and he's 7. LOVE him

10:34-Ths one kid's parents are missionaries and he claims to have girlfriends all over the world

10:36-British children are born 40 years old

10:44-Ah, racism. Always enjoyable....

10:52-Tony is nicknamed "monkey". I swear to God he can climb anything!

10:53-They took all of the kids to the park. Everyone played together, except for the kids they found in an orphanage. They set to work building a house out of scrap wood on the edges of the park. Wow. Sad. 

10:53-End of 7 Up.

10:54: Begin 7+7

10:55-"Give me a child until they are 7 and I will give you a man"-We have heard that phrase at least 30 times. OUCH. This is the awkward stage

10:56-Oh this is epic. Wow, British teenagers are NOT attractive

11:02-Heh, one of them ended up in Austrailia.

11:09-HOLY CRAP! A dog is TEARING apart a rabbit in the back of this interview. 

11:11-Nicholas has the same glasses as Paige. He amuses himself by throwing rocks at rapid speed. 

11:20-Suzy refuses to look at the camera. It's driving me insane

11:24-These people grew up boring

11:25-The soda machine just took peoples money. I would have stopped them, but I'm still bitter

11:32-They're discussing their weekly allowances. Nicky is confused by British money

11:36-I feel terrible. ughhhhhhhhhhhhh, sickkkkkkk

11:40-seriously, boring, boring, boring 14 year olds

11:44-"Give me a child until he is 7, and I will give you a man"

11:50-The gang continues on to the third one. I call it a night and head to bed. 

Birthday Ride Exravaganza

*Editors Note: There are two entries today. I suggest you read the one below this first*

The Bogucki family has a ton of traditions. Setting a place for the Christ Child at the Christmas Eve dinner table, singing the Jack-O-Lantern song immediately after lighting our Halloween Jack-O-Lanterns, etc. The most honored tradition, however, is Mom's birthday ride. Every year, usually Superbowl Sunday, Mom picks a location that she would like for us all to go to. The birthday ride has strict and specific rules that are not to be broken. They are as follow.

1) Location must be out of state

2) Highways may be used to exit the state however once out of said state only backroads may be taken

3) Lunch will be in the form of an in-the-car picnic

4) Dinner must be something local or representative of the culture that we are visiting

5) Roads must twist and turn so as to make Marianna as nauseous as possible

Rule number 5 is unspoken, but I know its there. Past locations have included the Crayola Factory, West Point (I was 8, my parents threatened to leave me there...scarring), the Hopewell Iron Furnace, the Glassboro Glass Works (blatent disregard for rule number 1 on this one) and the Epharta Cloister (something about a cult) among other fabulous spots. We moved the birthday ride up to a Saturday this year for various reasons that I can't remember. Mom announced Lewes, DE as our destination and all was well. At 1 am this morning I opened my e-mail to find an urgent message that our location had changed and we would now be going to Strasborg, PA, to the Railroad Museum. Good choice, good choice. 

If you read the entry below this first, you'll see that waking up this morning was a bit difficult. I was up early, though, as I had to try and get Red Sox tickets which were going on sale at exactly 10. I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to my desk. I logged onto the Red Sox website, plugged in my iPod and spent a glorious hour just staring at my computer screen in a complete trance. I never made it out of the "virtual waiting room" and was unable to procure tickets. After failing at this task, I made my way downstairs as my parents had arrived and hopped in the car to begin our adventure. I now present a photo essay, 

"Birthday Ride: Views from the Backseat"

Let's start this off by looking at a map. We're off to a good start. I'm trying to prolong the inevitable plugging in of the GPS system as long as I can. I hate that thing so, so much.
A stop at the Chester County Visitors Center turns into our in the car picnic. Note that the GPS system has been put in place. 
Delicious sandwich if I do say so myself
Please.Turn.In.One.Point.Four.Miles. 
BLATANT DISREGARD OF RULE NUMBER TWO! 
That's better, this fits both rule number 2 and rule number 5
Well that's something you don't see in the Philadelphia Metropolitan Area!
Farm. In case you can't tell
The Strasborg Train Museum
OMP paced up and down between the museum and the car a couple times. Mom and I couldn't figure out what he was doing, I can only assume he was getting himself pumped for what would be the most epic adventure of his life.
This mannequin scared the hell out of me and actually caused me to duck and cover when I saw him.
OMP never refuses a good lecture opportunity. 
This looks like it would be nice, heated and cozy. It was two hours of bone chilling cold in there.
Mom drives model trains. The two nerdy men running this exhibit thought she was the coolest thing ever. One of them tried to fight my dad for her love. No lie, they got into a one upping contest about who owns more model trains. It was adorable. 
SEPTA, take note. I want velvet seats
If you thought it was cold INSIDE the museum....well outside was even colder. I guess that's not surprising, really that's to be expected.
It was one of the most beautiful days I've seen in awhile
I like to think that this photo is symbolic of my track to the future. 
BLATANT DISREGARD OF RULE NUMBER 2! AGAIN! You're on thin ice, OMP. Better study up on those rules for next year
And the sun sets on another Bogucki Birthday Ride

I'll Show You the Youtube Videos-an epic entry of an epic night

There are a lot of disturbing lifestyle changes that come with being a Bryn Mawr student. A constant sense that someone is keeping secrets from you, a constant fear that you are breaking the honor code, a complete disregard for your personal hygiene and appearance...it's no secret, Bryn Mawr messes with your head, big time. Perhaps the most disturbing is the strange phenomenon of forgetting all of the pain and suffering of the past semester over winter break. One month ago I was in agony. Tired, completely unmotivated, living in constant fear of being a failure. At least I think I was, I can't remember. I have no recollection of my emotions one month ago, I know that it wasn't a good time, but it feels like it never happened. This happens at the beginning of EVERY semester. As a result, I forget that, in the words of Nicky, college is hard. This week hit me like a ton of bricks and keeping my eyes open has been a challenge worthy of an Olympic medal. It didn't help that I took my two days off, yesterday and today, and filled them to the brim with activities. Here's how that went down.

I'm not exactly responsible when it comes to making doctors appointments. I was supposed to make a bunch of them for over break but never really got around to doing so. By the time I did they were all booked up so I had to go home yesterday to attend to those matters. The drive home was fairly tame. A lot of trucks on the road but otherwise normal.

I got to Princeton a bit early so I got a bottle of water and sat in the grocery store parking lot to pass the time. I started a game where I counted how many  of cars that went by had the giant orange circle of doom/Princeton University parking pass on them. I stopped that game pretty quickly, there was no real point when each car had one, I was just counting cars and when you think about it that's really a sketchy thing to do...sit in a parking lot and count cars. Doctors appointment went fine, I got to read Parents Magazine, my absolute favorite magazine in the world. Stopped by the office afterwards to get money for my services, and to tell some of my stories that no one else will listen to. Came home for lunch with my mother and some quality dog time. 

Went back into Princeton for another doctors appointment. The fire alarm went off in the middle of it and the intercom recording kept shouting "code red, code red, code red". No one seemed alarmed, however, so I guess we were fine? Stopped by OMPs office to say hi, I think I frightened him a bit. I would be worried too if my daughter, who was supposed to be in another state, suddenly showed up in my office. Chatted with him for awhile, tried out a few of my stories on him as well. He casually mentioned that I should probably be getting back to Bryn Mawr, I took the hint and left (jusssst kidding).

I had big plans to stop for everything cheap that I loved in New Jersey, gas, beer and iced coffee. Numerous accidents and road work got in my way however, and I had to settle for just gas. It was getting to be rush hour time and I had to get back to Bryn Mawr for a friends birthday. I get onto Route 1 just as they're closing up the road work on the bridge. Basically, Route 1 stops dead. Greaaaat. I hate that road so, so much. After 20 minutes of hell stuck it what is quite possible the worst designed construction project ever I was able to get into Pennsylvania (woo?) and make my way to the turnpike. By this point people are getting out of work and are cranky. I'm worrying about making my friend's birthday dinner so each mile seems longer and longer. I get to Bryn Mawr at 5:03. I throw my car into a parking lot that I'm not supposed to park in and race up to Sushi Land. Luckily, I am the Michael Phelps of speed walking and I catch up to my friends at the train station. 

We get to Sushi Land and it's packed. Our friend is waitressing and she tells us we won't be able to get a seat for at least a half hour if not more. Usually we'd wait, but tonight we were going to see Amy Sedaris at Haverford and had to be able to get over there by 7:30. Our other friends had already bought wine so we needed to find ourselves another BYOB to eat. We went up the street to Vietnamese. GREAT food at this restaurant, but horrific service. I'm pretty sure the same guy is the waiter, cook and custodian. We waited for about 5 minutes but no one even appeared, we went looking for someone but no one was there. We couldn't put up with this tomfoolery and went back down the street to the Mediterranean Grill. The place was packed, and by packed I mean completely empty. Good sign or no...we couldn't tell. It ended up being a good sign as the food was fantastic. 

As time was growing closer to 7 we decided to split into groups, half the group would drive to the Ford and save seats while the other half would walk. Originally I was in the walk group, but I managed to finagle my way into the drive group, win. We thought we were going to be early but a bunch of people had through ahead of us and were already there. We still managed to get good seats in the third row. Too bad the show sucked. 

The idea was that two Haverford students would interview Amy Sedaris and we would all have a good time. Amy seemed ready and willing to be funny and have a good time but the two students were decidedly anti-good time. It was awkward, very, very awkward. Very BiCo if you will. I think we can interchange awkward and BiCo, they really mean the same thing (that's Bi-College, Bryn Mawr and Haverford, for you non-BiCo readers). Also, unexpected twist (that really given her body of work should have been completely expected), Amy Sedaris has an incredibly offensive style of comedy. Anywhere else this goes over great. At the BiCo it goes over with the "should I laugh? Is it ok to laugh?" nervous giggle. All around uncomfortable experience.

We left the auditorium in desperate need of a drink. A new bar had opened up across from the Acme (Now how appealing does THAT sound!?!) and we decided to try it out. We couldn't remember it's name so we each called it something different. My personal favorite was Peter O'Tooles, which I now solely refer to it as. Other winners included McSquirrilys and McSwirleys. The ACTUAL name is Tip O'Learys. I still prefer to call it Peter O'Tooles. Peter O'Tooles was fairly lame. It was still early so only a few old men and yuppieish guys were in there. After one beer we moved down the street to Roaches. I hadn't been to Roaches yet, but heard it was popular with the drinking crowds. It was definitely different from the other Main Line bars. I'm not sure how the Main Line hasn't kicked it out yet as the beer is stored in fridges on slabs of cardboard and the bathroom is less than perfectly sanitary. Not a usual sight in Bryn Mawr. Megan pissed off the bartender by calling him sir, apparently she hit a nerve, who knew. Needless to say I will now refer to him by sir and only sir when (if) we go back. We stayed at Roaches for awhile, enjoying the smokey beer drenched atmosphere and creepy guys. After awhile Elizabeth, the birthday girl, announced that she wanted to move on to Kellys for more fun and dancing. Kellys is about a mile away from Roaches so we began the slow, tortuous walk down Lancaster Ave, each of us assigning ourselves a buddy to make sure we all made it. This long walk taught me a lot about my friends, mainly that we're all assholes. We spent the entire walk just yelling at each other and being incredibly cruel, pointing out shortcomings like slow walking and failures as a girlfriend. One might say "well you all had some alcohol in you, so..." nope, the alcohol did not affect this. Our friendship is based off of yelling and judgement. 

We never made it to Kellys as we hit Erins first and just decided to stay there. Erins was hot and crowded and I didn't last more than one drink. Megan and Nicky set to work harrassing a man wearing a flannel shirt, with Nicky trying, as always, to figure out the fiber content of his shirt. Ari spent a good portion of the time talking to a guy that she claims is a "legend at Villanova" and when I gave her a look of confusion she responded "I'll show you the youtube videos". This man carries a light-saber everywhere he goes, so I judge the usage of the term "legend". I'm also wary of anyone who can only be explained through the usage of youtube videos. Paige and I are complete party poopers and couldn't take the hot smokey environment so we stepped outside for some air. Best decision we've ever made. First of all, we didn't get beer spilled all over us. Second of all, I ran into a friend that I haven't seen since 8th grade. Third, and most importantly, we meet Drew. Drew is a jazz musician specializing in 1920's and early 30's piano and trumpet music. We met him after he walked by us shouting into a phone "DO NOT CALL THE COPS! NO! SERIOUSLY MAN! BAD IDEA! DON'T CALL THE COPS!". We couldn't resist asking him what that was all about. After chatting with him about music and my dream to have a Great Gatsby party (he's totally down and gave me his card in case I ever go through with it) he whipped out a POCKET WATCH to check the time. Paige and I were blown away, this pocket watch weighed a ton and according to him was from the 1890's. It doesn't take a lot to amuse me so a pocket watch just blew me off the charts. I could have spent the night licking stamps and still have deemed it awesome simply because I met a man who unironically carries around a pocket watch.

First Doc Night of the Semester!

WARNING: Tonights feature was about "Capturing the Friedmans", the story of a family's struggles after the father and son are arrested for pedophilia. It was a very disturbing movie. Blame Paige. There are large sections missing from Doc Night of parts that I didn't feel needed to be blogged about. It was a very interesting movie nonetheless. 

10:08-Ari and Drew are late as usual, I'm struggling with getting a soda. Katelyn, a new addition to the club, helps me out by exchanging my dollar bill for quarters. Excellent addition to the club

10:09-Paige says that the movie portrays jews in a bad light then looks over to see that Shannon is reading Mein Kampf...this is not off to a good start. Paige: Uh, why...are...you reading...tha... Shannon: IT'S FOR A CLASS!

10:10-Paige got to go to Model UN conferences in Chicago. All I got was effing Yale. Paige is trying to sneak in an extra documentary...Shannon is not ok with this. Apparently this movie started off as a documentary about a clown and turned into a separate documentary about pedophilia once it was revealed that the clowns family had been involved in a child molestation scandal. She will be showing both of these documentaries. The first one is called "Just a Clown" and is the story of Silly Billy. Paige lets it slip that she lives in the same town as this man. Paige is losing control of the crowd. Apparently she thinks this is the greatest speech ever, it is not, it is confusing and disturbing. I give up, no more updates until the actual movie because this speech sucks. 

10:13-Ok, one more, Paige discussed how Silly Billy became Dr. Blood, a darker more mature clown. Ari interrupts to ask if she means stripper. One point for Ari.

10:14-Just a Clown begins. 

10:15-Paige lets it slip that she and Nicky went to Louis Kahns death place together before we went. Yelling, so much yelling. I feel betrayed.

10:16-The remote isn't working. Nicky decides she knows the answer. This NEVER ends well, but we'll humor her. Oh wow...she actually did help. She's going to hold this over our head for years

10:17-Just a Clown actually begins

10:18-The movie begins with David Friedman teaching someone to be a clown. We hear his voice before we actually see him. The instructions on how to blow up a balloon is strangely similar to other...acts. You know what I'm talking about. I might have to bail early on this blog if this movie gets too inappropriate. 

10:20-He's a clown to the millionaires

10:21-They're interviewing other clowns. Drew is laughing like a 5 year old at a birthday party. He is easily amused

10:22-These kids are dressed funny. I spot one in khaki shorts and a light blue oxford shirt with loafers. I want my kid to look exactly like him. The cake at this party is HUGE. Why wasn't I a rich kid? OMP! I'm looking at you!

10:23-A woman is discussing her sons party favor bags that she spent 6-8 months making. Now I wish I had rich friends as well.

10:24-We meet a clown called Marsha the Musical Moose. She's just phoning it in with that schtick

10:25-cut to Marsha just sitting in a field eating flowers. Realllllly phoning it in

10:27-I didn't really follow what just happened, but I think we just saw quarrelling lovers of Silly Billy

10:29-It's effing cold in this room. That's not a figurative statement to describe the movie, I mean it is cold and I am shivering.

10:31-Ari comes up with the greatest idea ever of inviting Silly Billy to May Day

10:32-Now we meet Dr. Blood, the mature clown......stay tuned...

10:33-HO-LY....CRAP! This would traumatize me for life! He's running around the room threatening to chop off fingers and heads. Kids are running and hiding. How can I get a career as a completely traumatizing childrens entertainment character. 

10:34-End of movie? Now we're going to learn about his messed up family...

10:35-Paige sets up Capturing the Friedmans about Davids brother and father who have been convicted of pedophilia. This is going to be far less enjoyable than the first film

10:36-We meet Jesse and Arnold, the brother and father respectively. Apparently the family loved making home movies

10:38-After seeing Revolutionary Road earlier this week, Nicky deems this the week of "reasons you shouldn't get married"

10:39-Lets set the stage. David is the oldest son, Seth is the middle and the "rebel", Jesse is the youngest and "always trying to catch up"

10:40-Apparently Arnold, the father, used to play in a band up at the hotels in that abandoned town my family and I went to on vacation a few years ago. Good story for another day

10:41-The mother doesn't like to talk about the father

10:42-David makes video diaries that are supposed to be private. He asks that if we aren't him to please turn it off. Megan wonders whether this is a trick and whether we should obey him and turn it off. Turns out David made video diaries to document his emotions while his brother and father were on trial. Bad idea, the police are going to want to see those tapes eventually.

10:47-Arnolds wife claims that child porn was a form of meditation for him. Awk.

10:51-Apparently when Arnold was arrested David came home dressed in his clown costume. 

10:55-A search of Facebook for "Capturing the Friedmans" brings up a Facebook group called "Weird Wednesday" at Illinois State University. Here a group of people watch "weird and upsetting movies every Wednesday night". That sounds eeirily familiar to what we do. We decide that this is a good thing, if state schools are doing it that must mean it's cool

11:09-Things just aren't adding up here. The kids stories just...aren't adding up.

11:15-Awkward, David decided to record the family while his father was under house arrest. 

11:16-Just awkward. Family, if anyone gets arrested for anything and is placed on house arrest I am banning you from making any form of audio or video recording. I reserve the right to blog if the crime is particularly hilarious though.

11:19-Apparently the original idea is that this whole thing would last a year and then they could look back and laugh at how ridiculous it was. Whoops.

11:20-David believes his parents only had relations 3 times,  each in order to create their children. Davids mother is interviewed and proves him wrong. 

11:28-FAMILY HOUSE ARREST DANCE PARTY! (Note to my own family, these will TOTALLY be allowed if one of us is placed on house arrest)

11:29-House arrest balloon animals will also be allowed.

11:30-The sons and the father were best friends. The mother was skeptical of the whole situation and really didn't trust any of her family. 

11:33-The mother just referred to his sons view of their father as "one of a Santa Claus Messiah"

11:40-I can't even begin to explain the court proceedings and the chuckfuck that they are so I'm not even going to try

11:41-The effing family even made movies the night before Arnold went to prison. Them playing music and dancing around. Crazys

12:01-Peter Panaro is a terrible lawyer. Do not hire him to defend you. He suggests the son admit to sexually abusing children, even though there is no evidence against him. Good move, Sherlock.

12:06-Creepy cat shot. Jeez this movie's long

12:08-I'll say it again. Peter Panaro is a TERRIBLE lawyer

12:09-Panaro is confused as to why his plan backfired. 

12:10-IDIOTS! This kid is being sentenced for child abuse and they're out on the lawn of the courthouse making movies of them dancing and screwing around. IDIOTS!

12:12-Wow, the eighties, you could film and take pictures inside federal buildings for personal use. How times have changed

12:14-Arnold did not die of a heart attack as David had previously said. He overdosed on anti-depressents in jail. How you're able to do that, I don't know, I know nothing about jail but I'm pretty sure it's hard to get your hands on a ton of anti-depressents.

12:19-Epilogue: David is confused as to how this did not turn out the way he planned. Really? Really? Filming your brother and father as they prepared for their child molestation trial DIDN'T WORK OUT IN YOUR FAVOR? Amazing. Fancy that.

12:20-The mother remarried and moved far away from any of her family members. GOOD FOR HER. The poor woman.

12:21-Jesse is released from prison into Davids arms. Elaine (apparently thats the mothers name) gets a hotel room to see her son for the first time. Good plan, don't let him know where you live. 

12:21-post movie discussion. Our conclusion? Don't hire Peter Panaro as your lawyer.

C's get degrees

It's the final countdown!! (dun nuh nuh nuh....duh nuh nuh nuh nuh....duh nuh...ok this could go on for awhile)

Last semester of college began today. For some reason during my last semester, the semester I'm supposed to just screw around, I have to take 5 classes. We won't get into that, but rather quietly accept it in exchange for being allowed to graduate on time. I'll just leave you with this word of advice, make sure you know EXACTLY what your schools course load requirement is when you go abroad, otherwise you're in for a fun e-mail around July. 

I'm going to preface talking about my classes by saying that my three classes today were fantastic. So if any of my profs stumble upon this, I truly mean I am excited for these classes. That didn't stop them from being hilarious.

My first class is at 8:30 in the morning. I haven't had an 8:30 class since high school. I haven't gotten up at 8:30 without being paid to do so since....God knows when. I woke up this morning and trudged down to the science building, a building I haven't taken a class in since freshman year, to learn about GIS, a computer program for mapping. While OMP told me it wasn't possible, I will actually be graduating with a skill. One would think that a computer class would have a very straight laced, to the point professor. Our professor instead began class by giving us all brightly colored pencils "just because they're fun" before handing out the syllabus. The syllabus began with the sentence "we are about to embark on a journey together". I smiled, this class was a bit daunting at first with all the technology, but I'm getting a good feeling about it. The second half of the syllabus is blank, we are supposed to "fill that out together". This is going to be a wild ride. In an effort to get us to understand "place and space" the professor had us tell the person next to us where we were from. That person was then supposed to blurt out the first three things that come to their mind. The Michael Scott approach to mapping. The inauguration clearly weighed in on everyones thoughts.

My Partner: I'm from outside Washington DC

Me: Barack Obama.

Girl behind me: I'm from Nairobi, Kenya

Girl's partner: Barack Obama.

We were let out early to go enjoy the inauguration festivities. I returned to my room to find that most people were just getting up to shower. That was freaky. I flip on the inauguration and am quickly sucked in. As my friend Nicky would later tell me, "It's like the Golden Globes, only with politicians". LOVED the arrivals. Loved the angry looks on some people and the others that were just bouncing up and down the stairs. Was surprised at how well the ex-presidents are looking. Bush Sr. Was moving slowly, but looked fantastic. Shaking hands with everyone, hugging Bill Clinton, like a giant party. Definitely thought Gerald Ford was still alive, apparently I was wrong, very wrong. I think that Dick Cheney and Joe Biden should have a sitcom together. While I don't want to make fun on Cheney in a wheelchair, there was nothing funnier than Biden getting a little too excited and moving a bit too quickly then looking back and realizing that he was at least 5 steps ahead of Cheney. I was dying. Also have drunk the Joe Biden Kool-Aid, the man is hilarious. He should have a song and dance variety show. Basically I would like for all TV networks to form Joe Biden related television shows. Variety shows, sitcoms, crime dramas, game shows (he would either host or be the star panelist that comes back every week a la Charles Nelson Reilly in Match Game). Also the Obama girls are without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to this country. 

I had to catch the bus to Haverford at 12:35. I began to worry as the clock began to tick closer and closer and Obama still hadn't been sworn in. He finally appeared at 11:55. I was banging my hand on my desk to get them to move faster. Benediction, introduction, Aretha Franklin, my man Joe Biden, Obam....no wait, musical interlude (loud cursing from me, clock ticking) finally he gets out there. Come on, come on, come on! I'm shouting. As he's pronounced president I look at the clock, 12:10. I do some quick math and decide I can listen to 15 minutes of his speech before I have to get ready and go. I quickly Google "How long will Obama speak for". 15 minutes, replied WikiAnswers. Perfect. I watch in silence, I didn't want to go to that damn celebration the school was having where people would cheer and offer their own commentary, just a moment of me and my president, mano y mano (did I spell that right?), tell me what you are going to do for the country that I am about leave my protected little college world for. Good speech, enjoyed the quote that everyone else enjoyed "You will be remembered for what you build, not for what you destroy". Really, really enjoy that quote. 15 minutes come and go, and he's still talking. crap, crap, crap, I can't leave him now. He's probably going to go for some big finish, I can't miss the big finish! I hang on for three more minutes and am disappointed with the lack of a big finish. I was nearly late for the bus for that? I grab my backpack and book it to the bus. When it gets warmer I'll walk to H-ford, but it's damn cold now. 

I'm taking a history class on the west at the 'ford. I am not a history major nor have I ever been to the west, but I felt I couldn't leave the Bi-Co without ever taking a class over at the 'ford. After booking it to the bus and fretting about missing all of the inauguration fun, the professor holds a class that lasts no more than 15 minutes than dismisses us. Now I have to book it back to the bus or else I'm stuck there or walking home. I'm not a fan of running on the first day back. 

I returned to my room to watch the parade. The parade was lame. Maybe I missed....everything...but it was lame. I was disappointed. Again, I had to book it to the train station for my class at Penn. Where do I go to school? Bryn Mawr? oh well, I'll take classes wherever. The train to Philly seemed shorter than usual. Maybe it was because I was tired and had a great playlist going on the iPod, but I was almost disappointed to reach the city. As we pulled into 30th I saw news vans surrounding the station. This is usually not a good thing in Philadelphia. "Oh crap" I thought "Someone's been shot". Turns out they were waiting for people returning from Washington on the busses and trains. Oh. Well then. I skipped up to Penn, cursed Drexel out for shutting down the sidewalk in between the schools making me take the long way around. It.was.cold. Very, very cold. I raced into the Au Bon Pain to join my friend Ari for a bowl of soup. It did not warm me up, at all. I noticed I was getting funny looks from people that boardered on angry and disgusted. I looked down and realized that under my jacket I was wearing a Princeton sweatshirt. I'm sorry, it's warm, I'm cold, deal with it. I still took it off, I'm against offending people on their own campuses, one of my trivial rules for life. 

The class itself was a bit...odd. Looks good, I think. The professor was very vague and spoke in "and_______" terms. As in: 

Prof: "So of course we're looking at short term AND________" 

*Class looks around, confused*

Brave Soul: "Long...term..?"

Prof: "Exactly"

Try this for EVERY sentence. He was funny though, so we'll stick with him. He didn't say much about himself, such as his qualifications, degrees, etc. He did casually mention that he is a member of the Screen Actors Guild...so I plan on exploring that for the rest of the semester. He also didn't realize that there were Bryn Mawr students in the class and completely went off on how we are an inadequate college.

Prof: "You can have a college in the country. Those sister places. Sisters, sisters, seven of them I think, like that Bryn Mawr place. Great school, great academics, but no resources! No medical school! This is why we need cities"

He was saying this sarcastically, but the rest of the class (all Penn students) were nodding eagerly as if they completely agreed. Ari and I just surpressed our laughter. 

A cold walk back to 30th St ended my first day of classes for me. I have been spending the rest of the night. exploring possible spring break plans. I'll say this....a road trip to Dinosaur Land is not out of the question. 

Links of the week:

Christmas 2009 comes early as Caroline makes a fool out of herself in the Washington Times

People from Arizona are idiots (Megan and her friends and family excluded)

Forgotten plus sides of the economic recession

I had spent the past two days in my room doing diddly-squat. I blamed everything I could (sprained ankle, stomach ache, weather, etc) but really I was just lazy. Because I have been completely immobile for the past two days, I have "rescheduled" myself so to speak, and have mixed up my sleep pattern.  I woke up today at 12:30 and had breakfast while everyone else was making lunch. My lunch came at around 4 and at around 4:15 I took a shower and "got my day started". I went out to do some last minute back to school shopping, mainly searching for a pair of jeans that DOESN'T have a hole in the crotch or stains. I failed. I did not find any new jeans that I liked. I did find going out of business sales, which filled me with great excitement.

The first stop was Filenes Basement. To my knowledge the chain isn't going out of business, just our store. They were having fantastic sales on everything...unfortunately I am not a 65 year old woman as that is who all the clothes were targeted for. I do not enjoy wearing oversized sweaters with rhinestone buttons or stretch leggings with stirrups and polka dots. I did manage to find a pair of pants for 15 dollars and a cashmere sweater for 25. I almost bought a ridiculous looking bathing suit for 9 dollars, but decided against it. I may regret that later. 

I stood in line for the purchases for what seemed like forever. I think at one point the line moved backwards. As I was paying the cashier did her best to make sure I would never come back to the store again, including knocking the sweater to the floor, holding up her finger and saying "hold on, I'll get that in a minute" and then walking away to talk to her friend. The cashiers were all talking about the great sales over at Circuit City. "Aha!" I thought, "That's right! Circuit City is going out of business, JACKPOT". I quickly paid for my purchases and raced (safely) over to Circuit City. You would have thought they were giving away gold bars. People were practically parking their cars on Route 1. I myself parked over at the mall and crossed the fenced off area rather than spend the time to turn around and park in the actual Circuit City parking lot. I was not alone, what set me apart from my fellow times savers, however, is that I was not running into the store. Nor was I shoving my child out of the way because they were moving too slow. It was a hectic and emotional scene that I frankly was not comfortable with. Once at the door I see a giant sign "EVERYTHING ON SALE! 10% OFF EVERYTHING!". What? Seriously? These people are RUNNING for a 10% off sale? Inside I begin to look around. I guess 10% off of a flat screen tv is a lot, but 10% off of an already overpriced DVD is not worth it. I considered getting a new camera as mine is literally falling apart (thank you Parade Night....) but I hadn't researched them and frankly didn't know where to even start. I wandered over to the laptop supplies. I've been meaning to buy myself a laptop sleeve as currently I wrap my laptop in a towel whenever I bring it around in my backpack...but again, the discount just wasn't worth it. Things were being thrown, people were yelling into cell phones, acting like this was a Home Depot the day before a hurricane. I left in disgust, getting plowed into by a guy using his baby stroller as a weapon in one final display of human indecency. As I walked to my car more cars came careening into the parking lot, more people raced by. I wanted to yell at them to go to Best Buy for the same prices with less of a hassle, but no, they need to learn these lessons on their own. Just as I crossed the fence over to my car another car pulled in next to mine and a smartly dressed couple, clearly on their way to dinner, barreled out of the car nearly knocking me over. Next to them two high schoolers joined the rush as an immigrant couple proudly sauntered in the opposite direction with their purchases. Recession induced blow out sales, bringing us all together.

I'm highly susceptible to brainwashing

"Hey Marianna, what are you going to do for your last week of break?"-a commonly asked question

"Well...uh....I need to buy a popcorn popper...and some socks"-My answer

It had become very clear that my break was about to end on a note that could only be classified as lame. Luckily I have Paige, the newest addition to our group of friends who is actually eager to spend time with us. Paige actually enjoys seeking out our company, arranging group outings and can be counted on to make "plans". This is something that we've managed to go through 3 years of Bryn Mawr without, and quite frankly we often don't know what to do with her.

Paige facebooked me the other day and asked if I wanted to meet up in The City. Just to clarify, this was neither Boston nor Philadelphia, both of which have previously been referred to as "The City" in this blog before. Who enjoys living in the Eastern Seaboard Megalopolis? I do. I quickly said yes and suggested Tuesday as a day for fun and excitement. Paige agreed that Tuesday was good. This was all happening too easily. I decided that Tuesday would no longer work for me and instead suggested Wednesday. Paige still had no problems. I was wary of her flexibility and the ease with which she responded to change. Again, this is new that I would have a friend like this.

Paige is known for her "plan making" which really plans nothing we don't already know. We eat dinner every day at 5, we have done this every day since freshman year. Paige still feels the need to "plan" dinner for us. Given this history I was not surprised when I got a schedule for the days events that really didn't tell me anything, but instead was filled with a bunch of subway lines and question marks. 

We met up at Penn Station at 2. I would first like to apologize to my friend Nicky who I called a goddamn liar when she said the NJ Transit trains were double-deckers. It appears they have changed since I last rode them and they are now FANTASTIC. So comfortable. Back to the story. At Penn Station Paige and I first dined on what she calls the "best bagels in New York". No. I'm just going to go on record as saying no. The "best" anything cannot be found in Penn Station. They were good, but I've had better. We continued on to our first stop of the day, the supposed death spot of Louis Kahn. Kahn died in a Penn Station mens room. Obviously we could not go inside, nor was it marked. We instead chose a random mens room then held a moment of silence outside of it while a homeland security guy stared at us with that "I know you're up to no good" glare they're so good at. 

After that awkward moment we went up to Times Square for the most awkward or awkward moments, the Scientology info session. I had promised Paige that I would go with her, thinking that she would be like my other friends and never follow through on this plan (we still need to go to gay bingo). Well it turns out she did. I was nervous, I crack under pressure. As we were walking Paige turned to me and said

Paige: The goal of the day is to not be brainwashed

Me: Alright, but I'll warn you, I'm highly susceptible to brainwashing

Paige:....I can see. Princeton's done quite the number on you

Touche, Paige, touche. I made Paige go first and she walked up to the info desk and asked to see the informational video. A nice woman asked for our names and we unfortunately gave them our real ones. First mistake. She led us into a room that was boiling hot and turned off all of the lights so that we were suddenly in pitch darkness. This could in no way be good. I'm not a fan of making fun of other religions, however all I can say is wow. The movie....was...uh...wow. special. Halfway through (it was 45 minutes long) I began to fall asleep. I panicked thinking that they had drugged the room and if I fell asleep it would all be over. I look over and Paige is chugging Snapple. Thinking that she's on to something that drinking will keep me awake I begin to chug my Snapple as well. Turns out Paige just really likes Snapple. I'm having a moral dilema with myself right now over whether or not to make fun of the movie, so I'll just end with this point. I had the option of walking out of that theater without buying any books....but I also have the option to shoot myself in the head with a gun or jump off a tall bridge (almost a direct quote). As we tried to sneak out we were caught by surveys. Fake addresses and phone numbers were given, I came up with the lamest last name ever, and a "friend" suddenly texted us to tell us they were ready for lunch so unfortunately we couldn't stay, but we'd definitely be back...with our friend! 

We walked in silence to the subway station. Paige kept looking behind us. We had that paranoid "they're on to us" feeling. I still have that feeling. This blog is going to be taken down before the end of the day, I can tell.

We continued our day downtown for some quality happy hour. My mom and I enjoy this place in the West Village that serves half priced martinis at happy hour, so Paige and I eagerly made that our third stop of the day. At the subway stop Paige stops to read a map. 

Paige: Hey, can you help me here, I'm not good at reading maps. We need to find McDougal St

Me: Eh, I'm not really good at maps

Paige: You're majoring in Cities!

Me: Well...we don't really work with maps...

Paige: ....You're taking an entire course on maps this semester!

Homeless Man: MCDOUGAL IS UP THE STAIRS! DOWN TWO BLOCKS! THEN MAKE A LEFT!

Me: See? Who needs a map

Homeless Man: I SAID! UP! THE! STAIRS! DOWN! TWO! BLOCKS! THEN! MAKE! A! LEFT!

Paige: Thank you....

Homesless Man:........make a left.

I found it funny, Paige...not so much. We found the bar with no problem, but still had about 5 minutes until happy hour. Readers of my Ireland blog would know that I refuse to enter a happy hour right when it begins. So, like I made my sister walk to the end of the street and back, I made Paige do a few laps of the neighborhood. In doing so we got lost, and ended up being a half hour late to happy hour. Poor planning on my part, I take responsibility. By this point the sun was beginning to go down and it was damn cold. The bar was nice and toasty warm and we settled in next to the fireplace. While we had planned on doing some walking or wandering in between our stops, it was just too cold. It became clear that the rest of our night would consist of sitting in eating and drinking establishments until it as time to move on to the next eating or drinking establishment. 

After a happy hour that lasted much longer than an hour we moved on to dinner just down street. Dinner went much more quickly than we had intended and they seemed anxious to keep us moving even though there were 5 people in the entire restaurant, so we moved on to a coffee/dessert place around the block. Here they didn't care how long we stayed. We practically had to send up flares for the check. Paige and I relaxed with some pie, cappuccino and the Scientology personality test which has, no lie, over 300 questions. Occasionally the questions seemed a bit too relevant to my life, which again worried me that they were following me. 

The end of our night came with a trip to the Comedy Cellar comedy club, which Paige had recommended. The clubs name is not ironic, it is in fact a cellar (basement would be an overstatement) with comedy. We were forced to get awkwardly close to the couple next to us (who we are now debating whether or not they were a couple), who were not friendly people. The male had lost his iPhone right before we sat down and spent the first hour looking for it. Sometimes instead of looking for it, he would just stare at me accusingly, as if he thought I had stolen it. The girl kept looking at the guy and shrugging at all of the jokes...she didn't quite get the political ones. Jokes about Bernie Madoff elicited a "who's that" question from her. 

The comedians were good. A few washed up comedians from Comedy Central specials of yore. They mainly made jokes about being washed up. Nightline was there, so I may achieve a goal of mine of being on Nightline. I've never had this goal, but I have realized it is a goal that I should have had. Now it is my goal. 

I had quick trip up to Penn Station after the show ended before hopping on NJ transit home. While the ride up had taken exactly 1 hour, the ride down stopped at every single stop. Jersey Ave? North Elizabeth? Check and check. Around 1 am I made the "I really need to get my own place next year" phone call to my parents to have them come pick me up. 

Today I find myself with a mysteriously sprained ankle. I am retracing all of my steps last night and cannot for the life of me figure out how this happened. Check back for updates on my misfortunes.

Link of the week

The Cork St. Patricks Day Parade will be US themed this year, but without a special guest

ONE MORE TIME!

E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES!

Old Habits Turn Into New Quasi-Related Habits

The Bogucki family has a hoarding problem. OMP saves everything he or a family member has ever owned, from his father's bowling shoes to a cowboy hat he bought in Montana when he was 8 (he will be chiming in with the correct age in 3...2...1....). Caroline hoards anything she can off of planes, such as napkins, salt packets and dinner rolls, only she refuses to hold them herself instead making her poor little sister who just wants the effing plane to land already pack them into her already packed carry on. She also will take any leftovers from weddings home. Even weddings in Mexico. I hoard....well I don't really hoard as much as I collect. Not collect like one would collect valuables or even have a hobby. I just pick stuff up and put it in my pocket more often than not. As a child this led to small collections of shells, rocks, pennies, a failed attempt by my aunt to interest me in stamp collecting (stamps could not be picked up off the street and thus did not interest me) and the subject of todays entry, bottlecaps. 

Mom, not being a Bogucki by blood, does not fall victim to the hoarding curse that has ruined the rest of us. She has in fact been spending the past 30 years trying to rid the family of the curse. She has failed. As the bottle cap collecting gradually turned from a disturbing habit into a possible hobby, she encouraged it, hoping that having a single focus would in turn encourage me to become organized. I made that last sentence up, I have no reason why I was discouraged from having a messy room filled with junk but yet encouraged to pick up trash off of the street and place it in a jar. Whatever the reason, I acquired quite a hefty bottle cap collection over my lifetime. I abruptly stopped collecting bottle caps probably once I started high school. I guess this is when I became popular and realized that my collecting was "freakish". Stop laughing, I had friends and I think they liked me, that means I was popular. I digress. 

I don't know how many bottle caps I have, I've never counted. I don't know what types I have, I've never researched them. The early bottle caps either came from off of the street or from the remnants of family parties. After my family picked up on my new hobby they began to bring them home from other places, which has led to my number of caps from Poland. Every summer my Dad, Poland's third most famous archaeologist (debatable), would leave my mother with two small children for three months while he excavated the Neolitic farming communities of central Poland. Stay with me, I promise this has a point. He would arrive back with various bottle caps of all sorts of colors and names such as "Coca Cola" and "Pepsi". That's right, Poland at that time still sold soda soley in glass bottles. This right here is what kept me going in my collection. I was fascinated that things other than beer came in glass bottles. Needless to say I sent my father back to Poland the next summer to bring me home some more. 

My collection was still fairly small. OMP would only bring home four or five bottle caps at a time (I know you drank more Coke than that!), there was a surprising lack of beer in the house, and, as it was the nineties, all other American beverages were coming with plastic twist off caps. My collection was looking grim. Then a chance visit to a German restaurant in the White Mountains of New Hampshire changed my fortune forever. 

I must have been around eight when we were vacationing up in North Conway, NH. We were dining at a German restaurant, as we are cultured people, when my parents both ordered beers. My mother asked if they could bring the cap out with the bottle, as I was somewhat of a bottle cap connoisseur (my words, not hers). The waitress was impressed that such a young child would have such driver and determination in life and said she would do us one better. No one knew what that meant and frankly when you're in a German restaurant in the middle of the woods "one better" could really mean anything. At the end of the meal the waitress appeared with a giant bag of bottle caps, at the time I assumed it had been all the bottle caps they had used that year, now that I am of age I realize it was probably all of the bottle caps from happy hour. These caps basically doubled my collection overnight and got me going bottle cap crazy. The power of the caps summed the courage in me to start asking for caps at parties, to pick up every and any cap I found on the ground, and to move my cap collection out of the bucket they had been sitting in and into a more fitting barrel that had been used to package wine. While I was already pleased with myself in general at the age of 8, this bottle cap triumph of mine really just further upped my image of myself. 

The caps began to control my life. I was quite the reader as a child and read many stories about the depression and WWII as seen through the eyes of precocious youngsters. All of these stories had a common thread, in each one the lead character would either sell scrap metal for money or collect scrap metal for the war effort. I was terrified. I listened intently to the news every night for two reasons, signs of incoming meteors (this fear was the result of a trip to the planetarium gone wrong) and signs of impending war. I didn't care about horrors of war, I just cared about my bottle cap collection. I knew that the government kept a secret database of all precocious and patriotic children who collected bottle caps and would immediately come to seize my prize collection should we go to war. As a precocious and very patriotic child, I knew it would be my duty to give it up, but much like a child who raises a seeing eye dog, it wouldn't be easy. Luckily, by the time we went to war technology had advanced enough that the government allowed me to keep my collection. 

Now my cap collection sits on my bookshelf in my room. It's neatly arranged by color in plastic baggies that are then stuffed in the wine cooler or whatever it's called. Every now and then I look over at it and think "when I get some free time, I'm going to go through that". As I have taken numerous 3 hour naps in the past two weeks, I realized that "hey! I have a lot of time!" and pulled out the collection. I still haven't counted it. I still haven't gone through all of them. But today begins my new series "Marianna's Bottle Caps" (better title to be determined later). Every so often I will profile one of my favorite bottle caps. I will include where it is from, roughly from when, how I think I got it and why I like it. 

Todays selection is

Squash

Made By: Thor Bryggeriene

Made In: Randers, Denmark

How I Think I Got It?: Most likely brought back from Denmark by OMP

How Old?: 11 years? 10 years? 

Fun Fact: Thor Bryggeriene brewery was a Danish brewery founded in 1856 that closed in 2003 (www.beerme.com)

Why I Like It: As prez of the BMC Squash club, the idea that there was a beer called Squash screamed "FUNDRAISING" to me. I though it was cute that it was one of the first ones I pulled out of my collection, considering all of the time I've put into squash over the past few years. Also, I like the color scheme, it's fun.

Why I Don't Like It: It reminds me that I have to find us a squash coach. Does anyone know any squash coaches in the Philadelphia area?

Highlights Post

Wow, I have so much to cover and cannot do it all justice. Two major holidays and a week of fun in between are just meshing together. I'm going to try and do the highlights of the past week, I might forget a bunch of stuff, I might lie a couple of times, but it should give you a good wrap up of my holiday festivities

Christmas

-The plague had hit me hard and left me unable to tell up from down. I stumbled downstairs on Christmas morning and sat in a chair staring at Christmas gifts for an hour while I waited for Caroline to get up. By an hour I mean 20 minutes max.

-Santa Claus was good to me. The recession is hitting him hard as he has had to take up a second job. He clearly moonlights at the Forbes College of Princeton University gift shop as I somehow received a sweatshirt, track jacket and knapsack from there. This is to be added to my collection of another sweatshirt and countless t-shirts from there. The new sweatshirt is indescribably comfy and has been worn for a week straight. Random....but usefull. 

-We had a secret Christmas brunch and a secret Christmas dinner. Holidays are more fun when you have secret parties and don't tell other people about them. That last sentence is a complete lie. 

-I got a beautiful new sweater and promptly spilled red wine all over it at dinner. Luckily Mom is a stain mastermind and got it out with a bottle of Perrier and a strong will to succeed. 

-I blacked out from the ick at around 7 on Christmas and don't really remember anything else from the night. I think it was a success, however.

Day after Christmas

-I think I went to the movies with Ch'nel and her sister. We went to three different theaters, each of which disappointed us in some way.

-I am now boycotting the Oxford Valley Mall theater. They tripped me with their obscenely large curb and rolled their eyes when I limped my way in. They also wanted 12.50 to see a movie. We did not stay.

-They also had a pothole outside their theater that broke my tire. Thumbs down.

-We ended up seeing Role Models which was surprisingly funny and adorable. I recommend.

-Ended the night by playing "How many donuts can I get for a dollar" at Dunken Donuts (or as the girl behind me on the train says, Dunkies). This game is the single reason I am glad that I was friends with Kelsey Cunningham at some point in my life. Hours of entertainment come from bringing a single dollar into a Donut shop and asking how many munchkins it could be traded for. Answers have ranged from 4 to 70. This night we had to play through the drive-thru, which added an extra challenge. We ended up with 20, a reasonable haul if you ask me. 

Dec 27-28

-Eh, stuff happened

Dec 29

-Went to Massachusetts

-Stopped at Wrenthem Premium Outlets on the way up

-I was still feeling sick and angry that my sister wanted to shop

-When we left she had no bags and I bought a 4 dollar shirt at White House Black Market and a 20 dollar dress at Barneys. I win!

-Got to my grandmothers house and was subjected to hours of Jon and Kate Plus 8. I hate that show. Hate it so much. Everyone in the room hated it, you could tell, but everyone thought someone else wanted to watch it so no one changed the channel. Bad move, family, bad move.

Dec 30

-Went to Marshalls, bought two dresses and a pair of boots. Apparently I think I have a social life that requires party clothes. Even the fact that I consider myself to have a social life is a stretch

-Went up to Boston to play trivia at this bar near my aunts house. We've been wanting to bring OMP for years as he is a human Wikipedia. We were convinced we were going to thrash the competition. Unfortunately the theme was 2008 and every answer had happened in 2008. He was good for the political ones but was unable to tell us that Katherine Heigl was the highest paid actress or identify a scene from Zack and Miri Make a Porno. The MVP of the night turned out to be my 11 (12?) year old cousin Will who pulled answers out of no where to score massive amounts of points. It helps that he does absolutely nothing but watch television. We came in at a respectable 4th out of 12 teams. We were in second for the whole game, but fell hard on the first final question (I am aware that that is a contradiction, let it go) and were too timid to wager enough points on the final final question (which we got right) to pull ourselves back. Oh well, we beat my cousin and her boyfriend who were awkwardly on a double date with another couple at the table next to us. Thats always awesome when your entire extended family shows up to play trivia at the table next to you when you're on a date. They claimed it wasn't a date, just a get together, but I claim any gathering of couples counts as a double date and want to portray this as an awkward adventure. My other cousin brought her boyfriend to sit with us and he had to sit next to her father and across from OMP and my mom. I'm going to reconsider this whole situation and name that the more awkward experience.

Dec 31

-NEW YEARS EVE!

-I was going to go into the city to meet two friends from school and go out with them at around 7. At 10 am I woke up to find my parents missing, along with the car and no note as to their whereabouts. They do this frequently when we're up in MA as they have a normal sleep schedule and my sister, grandmother and myself often sleep until the smell of lunch wakes us up. I went for a walk on the beach and carried on my merry way.

-I got home and at around 11 a phone call comes in from the parents "Get your stuff, you're going to the train station". Dammit, I thought, it's finally happened, they're finally fed up with me and are sending me away. I looked out the window and saw that it was snowing...heavily, white out conditions. The 'rents wanted to get me and my sister into Boston before we were snowed in. It was a very valiant gesture as, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't drive my kids anywhere if there was snow like that. They would be s*** out of luck. (the snow didn't end up being too bad, but in the moment it was looking like we would be having a repeat of 1998 (year completely made up) when my mom, sister and I were snowed in my grandmothers cottage with downed trees and 4 foot high snowbanks blocking our every exit with no electricity or heat). 

-Train to the city was surprisingly scenic, but involved an hour of listening to the girl behind me brag about all the times she's driven drunk "not just drunk, but BLACKOUT, ahahahahah". Never, ever, go on the streets of suburban Massachusetts after dark.

-We got into the city and camped out at my aunts house until it was time to go on our merry way. My cousin, fresh of his all star trivia performance, taught us how to play Guitar Hero and Wii. Caroline is apparently quite the Wii expert, so she claimed, I schooled her in Wii Baseball. I'm going to need to get a Wii, maybe once my N64 breaks. 

-I went downtown at around 5 to meet up with my friends at our hotel. This was a last minute plan when we realized we had no way to get out of the city at 2ish and somehow we managed to get a swanky hotel room in downtown Boston on New Years Eve for 99 dollars. I'm going to take this moment to plug the Kendall hotel in Kendall Square. A converted firehouse that is absolutely charming and elegant. I miss the free champagne hour by 5 minutes, unfortunately, but the news that I was staying at a hotel that offered a free champagne hour delighted me. I cannot stress enough how fantastic this hotel was. 

-Got ready and went out to eat at Papa Razzi. Good food, good times, good friends, good.

-Realized it was 11 o clock already and scampered over to Harvard Square to ring in the new year at Tommy Doyles pub. It was fairly empty when we arrived, which concerned me. But about 15 minutes before midnight the place suddenly filled up to the brim. As the countdown began I got incredibly excited. With each ticking second I realized it was almost the new year. Almost 2009. The year I'm going to graduate. Only a few months until I complete college, I've almost made it. As the clock struck midnight I was filled with total glee, I made it to 2009, this end is in sight, I can do this. 

-Danced the night away for the next few hours. Not one but TWO women (both of whom came with boyfriend like characters) asked if I "swung" and wanted to make out. I'm very attractive to the closeted lesbians apparently. Maybe I'll use that as a pick up line next time I meet a cute guy "you know women find me extremely attractive.....". Nevermind, that will only attract a sketchy breed of male that i do not want.

-I left my ATM card at the bar. 

JANUARY 1st 2009!

-Swanky hotel offered a full breakfast. I love this hotel.

-Tried to get my ATM card, they said they put it in a safe and won't have access to that safe until 9 that night when the manager comes in. That's all well and good, except I'm heading for Jersey at 1. The Irish bartender shrugs. My friend agrees to pick it up and mail it to me once they call to say they've gotten it out of the safe. After numerous phone calls over the past two days, they keep telling me they've been too busy to get it out. Apparently the combination on this safe is not just numbers but an elaborate system of obstacles and challenges. Please, take your time.

-Drove down to Jerz. Car started making funny noises and shaking somewhere around Hartford. Spent the rest of the trip feeling like we were going to break down at any moment. While my plague had gone, Carolines was just starting. As the car struggled to move, she struggled to breathe. My iPod had minimal power left in it and I was unable to page through the songs as that would have killed the battery. So I had a shaking car, a snoring sister and Dane Cook yacking away in my ear as I hoped and prayed that if God really loved me he would make it so that shuffle would play a continuous hour of Bruce Springsteen after Mr. Cook finished describing his trip to the supermarket. I eventually gave up and listened to Harry Potter on tape that my mom was playing, gotta love the Potter. 

Now I'm spending my Friday night waiting for the bar to call me back and otherwise staring into space hoping someone isn't using my ATM card to buy something stupid like coffee. I should take this moment to say that anyone using an ATM card to buy a coffee or fast food item is at the top of my s*** list. If you don't have the cash to pay, then you are unable to get the food item. I will end this blog on that angry note. Happy 2009!!!!