An ending and a beginning

I know I said I would blog during the summer, but my heart just wasn't in it. Every humorous experience I had was totally unfunny to everyone else. Such is the life in Conference Services. While I find 18 hour days and stolen laundry carts hilarious, no one else does. It just wasn't worth it to blog. 

Around the time I stopped blogging I also unfortunately lost my grandmother. My family spent a week at Babunia's bedside before she died on July 19th at the impressive age of 93. As her life ended and mine was just beginning I had a lot of time to think about how she spent her 93 years. Looking at pictures with my father it was her quest for life that just kept popping up. The places she went, the things she saw, nothing stood in the way of her curiousity. One of my earliest memories of Babunia was crawling into bed with her when I was little and listening to stories of her, my grandfather and my father taking summers off to travel the country in a convertible. While this personality trait would sometimes cause trouble, nothing got in her way once she got her mind to it. I have dreamed of seeing what she saw since I was a child, but my sense of rationality has always gotten in my way.

The night before she died I went to see 'Away We Go' with my friend Stacey. The general plot line of the movie is that a couple (John Krasinski and Maya Rudolph) travels the country trying to find the best place to raise their unborn child. At one point John Krasinskis tries to convince Maya Rudolph that they need to stay in their original town just "because it's their home". Maya Rudolph asks how do they know it's their home if they've never been anywhere else. I had been contemplating traveling cross country ever since graduation but at that moment, I knew I was going. I had never been more sure of anything in my life. 

The next morning I was woken up by my parents telling me that Babunia had died. I'm a big fan of sentimentality so I like to think that that sense of confidence in my road trip was Babunia's goodbye, her parting words to me. Despite the fact that I believe Babunia would prefer for a desire to learn Polish to be her final effect on me, it's those early morning tales of the open highway that I always associated with her. Now she's gone, and I've got to hit the road and see what she saw.

With that this blog has ended. I did not fail but succeeded far beyond what I ever thought possible. I graduated from the number 23 school in the country. Sure I don't have a job, but I've finally stopped making excuses. On September 15th (or 16th) my friend Ch'nel and I will hit the road and spend the next 4-5 weeks driving a circle around the country. We're not sure where we're stopping, but really that doesn't matter. I just want to see things. I want to see prospering cities just as much as I want to see cities that saw their best days decades ago. I want to go to zoos and national parks. I want to camp under the stars when I can't find a hotel room. 

My life has been planned for me since 7th grade when I took up squash so that I would have something to write about on my prep school applications. Once I made it to prep school I led clubs and captained teams to get into one of the top schools in the country. With my background I was supposed to graduate into a fantastic job. I didn't. For the first time in 22 years my life didn't work out as planned. And I'm happy. I'm not saying I wasn't happy before, believe me I was, but for the first time I've realized I can be happy without knowing where I'm going to be next week. 

Babunia lived to be 93. If I'm lucky to live for as long as she did I still have another 70 years ahead of me. If I don't, oh well! Whatever the case, I think I can afford to take a month and live life off of the track to success. 

The journey will be blogged, no worries. Please let me know if you would be interested in housing two lovely, jobless college graduates for a night along our way! When we come back to New Jersey I will hopefully have a better idea of what I want to do with my life. Right now it's just too hard to apply for jobs when you can't even come up with an answer to the question "So what do you want to do". After a month of contemplation on the open road...I hope I can at least return with an idea of what I really want to do.

Happy Birthday America!

Cliffnotes recap of my 4th of July weekend.

Summary: The 4th of July weekend is one of my favorite times of the year. For four consecutive years I've told my boss it's my grandmothers 90th birthday and that I need the weekend off. It's become something of a joke, a funny ha-ha if you will. Movies have even stolen my line (30 seconds in...I'm still waiting for the royalties!)  For the record my grandmother is 91 and her birthday is on Christmas Eve. Someday I'll have a job where I don't have to lie in order to get national holidays off.

Thursday

-Longest car ride ever.

-Sheets of rain

-I decide to be as quiet as I can so as to avoid distracting OMP leading to him driving off the road

-Times I listened to Sean Kingston's Fireburning?- 5

-Text from Florina around CT "Driving the van. Fireburning just came on and we thought of you"

-Gotta love Sean Kingston

Friday

-Third of July! 

-Morning spent at Ocean State Job Lot, Marshalls and Building 19 

-OMP bought a shovel specifically for digging ditches. Our life is complete

-Return to Nana's cottage to go to the beach, only it rains

-Perfect time for a post shopping nap. Fall asleep while listening to Fireburning 

-Wake up in time for dinner with the cousins and getting ready to go to the beach

-Fireworks and bonfires on the beach

-Lots of drunk 14 year olds on the beach

-High tide so only about 15 yards of beach contained the fireworks, bonfires, drunk 14 year olds and assorted other people

-I think some of the fireworks were set off by the drunk 14 year olds

-I love the 3rd on the beach

Saturday

-Traditional 4th of July party at cousins house

-Upon reaching their house I discover that we left the two cases of Yuengling that is required for our entry back at the cottage

-OMP volunteers to return and get it

-Old movies of Nana (91) and Uncle Mark (94) as well as my aunts, uncles and mom are viewed.

-Uncle Mark has a girlfriend in the movies that is NOT Aunt Pat, leading to much enjoyment

-Worst game of beer pong ever is played between the youngins. 

-Anytime I hit the winning shot in both rounds you know it's a bad game. I'm awful at that game.

-We switch to wiffleball

-Wiffleball flies over to the elderly area, narrowly missing Uncle Mark by about 3 inches. He doesn't seem to notice. 

-Party breaks up, Uncle Mark (remember, he's 94) pulls me aside to tell me that he's been watching me and he thinks I'm "slipping". I have no idea what that means. 

Sunday

-RED SOX GAME (Sox vs. Mariners)

-Marky Mark threw out the first pitch

-I got to see Ken Griffey Jr. play (he's on the Mariners), which was exciting as third grade me loved Ken Griffey Jr.

-Seats right behind the bullpen

We're going to deviate from the cliffnotes version to discuss something I thought about while watching the bullpen. Since it was right there I spent the boring part of the game observing the pitchers. Being a bullpen pitcher seems like a pretty good life. Hang around for most of the game, watched the game from a roomy bullpen rather than stuffed into a seat. Stretch. Maybe get called in, maybe not. Still participate in post-game celebration even if you did nothing. Great life.

Jonathan Papelbon may have the best job ever out of these folks. Around the 4th inning he wandered out of the bench area of the bullpen to pose. I'm serious, he posed. He leaned against the wall, shiney sunglasses on, cocky smirk on face. As people bumrushed the walls of the bullpen to take pictures he scanned the crowd for hot girls. It was hilarious. After that moment of excitement he spent the rest of the game stretching and doing lunges across the bullpen. Didn't step foot on the field at any point in the day and returned home to his million dollar paycheck. 

Also fascinating about the bullpen (again, it was RIGHT there), there were  signs hanging in the bullpen that stated "Do not approach players for autographs during the game". At first that made sense, don't distract the players during the game. As I stared at the sign throughout the game I started to think, "distract them from what?" They're doing nothing! Sure, some have to maintain their concentration, but most of them are going to do nothing during the game. Why shouldn't they sign some autographs for kids who think that the third string catcher is just as important to the team as Jonathan Papelbon? Doesn't matter who signs the autographs, they just want words written on paper. Also why don't we have signs in the office asking people to not bother us "during the game". The office is sort of like the bullpen. There are frequently people hanging around doing nothing but waiting to be "called in" if you will. I'm sure those people would be dying to sign autographs. Because of this correlation between the office and the bullpen I have come up with four new rules 

1)The office is to be referred to solely as "The Bullpen" 

2)People who are doing nothing and then join another group to help them out with projects should be referred to as "relievers". Those who come to your rescue when a client stops by when you're not there are to be referred to as "closers"

3)People not doing anything must offer autographs to anyone who comes in 

4)People not doing anything but want to look like they're doing something must stretch...constantly stretch. 

Back to Sunday

-Lots of home runs, always exciting

-RED SOX WIN!

-Post game walk into the city

-Couldn't think of anything to do so we sat on the banks of the duck pond and lobbed peanuts at ducks

-Animals are incredibly bold when you have food

-A squirrel got into my purse

-Spent the night at my aunts so that I could catch a 5 am train home the next day

-Try to fall asleep on her sofa while listening to Fireburning, it does not work as well as it did the other day. That song is really not a bedtime song

Monday

-5am subway to the train station, 6am train home

-The conductor kept walking in on people in the bathroom and telling them the importance of locking the door. It was awkward and inappropriate....yet HILARIOUS. I always locked the door. 

-Listened to Fireburning roughly 4 more times. I have no idea why that song makes me so happy, it's really not that good. Although no music I listen to is "good"

-Came straight to the office and within 5 minutes of being there was thrown into sports camp parent hell. Angry, angry parents

-Missing my vacation already

Slave to Technology

I haven't given up on blogging about vacation. I just have the worst job ever and a boss that will only let me take off for swine flu if I have a fever. Apparently hacking cough and swollen throat aren't good enough and should be combatted not with rest and relaxation but rather with 12 hour days spent babysitting little children while simultaneously ridding the world of bedbugs. I PROMISE I will finish the vacation blog within the week. PROMISE. (This promise might end up on liesitoldtoday.blogspot.com pretty soon)

I want to deviate from the vacation to to discuss my addiction to technology. I was startled to discover this addiction as I'm not exactly a "techie". I can't even figure out how to change the ring tone on my cell phone. Only recently did I discover how to change the welcome message so that it no longer read "Caroline is Awesome!". Apparently at some point I was a victim to her pranks. I'm pretty sure I've set her phone language to Portuguese before so I probably deserved it. Unfortunately despite the fact that you all think I'm incredibly witty, I couldn't think of anything to replace it so now when I turn my phone on it reads "Hello!". I think I'm going to go back to "Caroline is Awesome!" at least that always made me chuckle. 

In addition, I loved that Bryn Mawr was so technologically unfriendly. I loved that room draw was not done online but rather in a giant room with a giant whiteboard. I loved that instead of registering for classes online we waited in line and bitched about how our deans took forever. Despite what I told my professors I don't absorb more when I read my readings off of the computer instead of printing them out. I need to have that hard, paper copy in front of me for everything. The idea of the "Kindle" freaks me out. I love newspapers, magazines and trashy prep school novels. None of which can be recreated in electronic form.

Despite my inability to operate any form of technology, I'm lost without it. Yesterday I came home for the first time in ages. As I was packing up my laundry I stopped to consider whether or not I needed to bring home my computer or iPod. As I would be home for roughly 12 hours, 8 of which I would hopefully be asleep for, I decided that it was not worth the trouble. The minute I got home, however, I was greeted with "Farrah Faucett's dead, Michael Jackson's dead, Aunt Dot is dying, Babunia fell and I can't get a hold of Nana". After establishing who Aunt Dot was (a beloved aunt of a family friend) I immediately began to crave my MacBook, currently sitting alone and unloved in my dorm room. I needed to get on the internet immediately. I needed to sit on OhNoTheyDidnt for hours reading each and every comment regarding this pop culture apocalypse. It scared me how my first thought was "I can't believe I left my computer at work!" 

There is a computer in my mom's office, but that wasn't good enough. That computer is separated from the house, one must remove themselves and enter a "work zone" in order to use that computer. I have become so accustomed to having a computer in my life that I needed to be able to follow this story all well maintaining what I thought was normal social behavior. Clearly trying to have a conversation with your parents while starring blankly at a computer screen is not normal behavior however that didn't occur to me in this time of need. 

Perhaps even more complexing is that I didn't even stop to consider the television. Have we reached a point where my generation feels that the television is outdated? If we miss our shows, no problem, we can watch them online. We don't have to wait until 6 o clock to hear the news, we can check it out online. Who needs HBO when you have Hulu and Netflix WatchInstantly. I could have easily moved my family and our cocktail hour downstairs and stared at the television and no one would have thought any less of me. But even the television wasn't fast enough to relay my information to me. It couldn't provide that snarky feedback that I love so much from commenters on online gossip stories. I wanted to e-mail friends and get their response. E-mail Tara before Cindy broke the story for her. Read the completely untrue rumors that the television would never cover. 

The internet has given us this false sense that we can become part of the story no matter where we are. One does not need a journalism degree to become a journalist. Everyone is given the chance to give an opinion on the internet and I'm one of the suckers who wants to hear everyones opinion. I can spend hours reading about conspiracy theories or Hollywood scandals. The fact of the matter is that Michael Jackson's death was very cut and dry. He had a heart attack, he died. Five years ago there would have been a tribute to him on MTV, a running of the Jackson 5 movie on VH-1 and a couple of news stories. In this day of blogging and commenting, no one accepts that the King of Pop simply died. No one in Hollywood simply dies. CLEARLY the mafia put a hit on him because of his involvement in the midwestern corn trade! Even now that it's coming out that his doctor was sort of sketchy...well duh! He was Michael Jackson! Did we expect anything more? Frankly I always assumed he would go in some type of circus-related catastrophe. 

I love my blog(s). I love when people comment. I am a sucker for praise and the internet allows me to get praise from people that I might not see everyday. There is no hidden agenda to this blog, it is a completely self-absorbed outlet for me, by me and starring me. I wonder what would have been my outlet some 5-10 years ago. How would I have shared my thoughts and ramblings while receiving the feedback that I so crave. Some think that blogging has allowed more people to break into writing because there is a better opportunity to be seen. I wonder if it's hindered it as people are now lazy and waiting to be seen. 

Say I was born 10 years earlier and went through this writing phase around 1999 rather than 2009. The internet was around but rather than a blog I probably would have had a geocities page (black with the flashing star background of course) that I would put some funny pictures on and maybe a blink-182 song would play in the background. I would also not even consider putting my writing on there. Would I be more motivated to send freelance stuff in to magazines and competitions? Would I spend more time on my writing, editing it and working on my actual sense of humor rather than taking the easy way out of spending an half hour or so typing whatever the hell I want to into a little box then posting it? Would I perhaps learn how to properly use the English language? Would I learn how to spell? 

The internet has not made getting into the communications world any easier. I have a blog but I'm by no means a journalist and anyone that thinks having a blog makes them a journalist should be punched in the face. If you are getting benefits from a legit company to blog then you can make a case for yourself but remember, most "freelance bloggers" gets paid the same amount as freelance can collectors. And at least freelance can collectors are helping the environment. 

 I don't know how to end this entry without becoming a giant hypocrite. Am I going to stop blogging? Hell no! I said before, I love this blog. Am I going to stop reading every comment on every story on ONTD? Hell no! Those are some funny people! The internet age has dumbed down my generation, I'll be the first to admit it. We crave instant satisfaction, waiting more than an hour to get information about a breaking news story is a catastrophe in itself and (luckily for me) it's become socially acceptable to have no idea how to spell anything right. But it's entertaining. No, Crazy Bob in the Basement isn't a respectable journalist but I'd much rather believe his suspicions about the death of Abraham Lincoln than I would my 6th grade social studies textbook. 

That being said, last night was an eye opener for me. This morning I accidentally left my phone at home and enjoyed not having it on me at all times today. Sure, I was still able to be contacted via landline and walkie-talkie, but it was a small step towards recovery. I just hope I caught this in time and don't have to enroll in any 12 step programs. I don't have time for those in my 12 hour workdays.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also an edition of "What I Said, What I Wish I Said: Work Edition"

Me: Hi, I'd like to order a speaker system for one of our groups

Unnamed Media Service Guy: UGHHHHHHH! *sigh* Why?

Me: Um, for a dance...

Media Service Guy: What kind of dance?

Me: Um...social? Girl-Boy? High School?

What I Wish I Said

Me: Hi, I'd like to order a speaker system for one of our groups

Media Services: UGHHHHH! *sigh* Why?

Me: To make you miserable. Also to have a dance

Media Services: What kind of dance

Me: Erotic. For one night only the Carl Fields Center of Equality and Understanding will be getting freaky.

Censored

In regards to the post that used to be here...

OMP: Yea.....that's not something you should put on your blog.

Busy week at work. I'll finish the vacation story soon.

My Part II tease was a lie, this entry contains no Al. BFV Part II

Where we last let off we had colonized the library and were dangerously close to being kicked out for squatting. After waking up the four of us pulled ourselves together and classily crossed the great hall to the front desk to see if our room was ready. Here we all made the same "hey! We found a great room with four beds and a lot of books, can we stay there" joke. As we all laughed at our family joke a la Brady Bunch style the front desk clerk just stood in silence. He did not take kindly to our shenanigans. Caroline, OMP and I each took a step back and waited for Mom to work her magic and get us an upgrade. Last time we were here she managed to get us upped from a small room in the new wing to a GIANT room in the tower (mega classy room). She achieved minor luck and had us upgraded to a fairly larger room. We took it, when you crash in the library like a bunch of vagabonds you really can't be choosers.

We took the elevator up to our room before discovering it was actually on the second floor (although it was called the 12th floor for some unknown reason) and could be easily reached by the nearby staircase. We also noticed the floor was creepily quiet. It was only a few days before Memorial Day, supposedly one of the hotels biggest weekends. We all noticed it, but no one said anything. This castle of gold could not be tarnished in our eyes.

The beds in our room were calling our names and we all settled in for a bit of a nap. After said nap we all set to work making sure we achieved just the right mix of fun and relaxation. OMP practically ran to the indoor swimming pool. This is always incredibly amusing as OMP notoriously hates swimming and water activities, however the indoor pool at The Homestead is his idea of nirvana. Mom told the girls to get our dinner clothes out so that she could iron them (I can't iron, amazingly four years of women's college didn't teach me to iron, what a waste of an education). It was here that I noticed my shoe bag was missing, meaning my only pairs of shoes were a pair of cheap flip flops and nice sneakers. I'm not one to be picky but I had a brand new haircut and a wide variety of dresses that I been saving for this event and I'm ashamed to admit I threw a bit of a hissy fit. I wanted to look cute, polished and rich but all I had was a pair of flip flops from Burlington Coat Factory and Chucks with bumblebees on them. Mom took control of the situation and together we walked out to car to see if we had just forgotten to take it out of the car when we were unloading. 

The cars were all valet parked up by the stables (just keep rereading that sentence) so it was a bit of a hike. When we got there we were shocked to see that our car was practically alone in the parking lot. With no forms of public transportation in the area,  it was clear that we were literally some of the only guests in the whole gigantic hotel. The bag was not there and I began to whine again. Ever clear-minded, Mom convinced me that my flip flops complimented all of outfits perfectly. I switched my tactic to my sneakers, we were going to be going on a nature walk the next day and I didn't want to get my sneakers dirty. I had kept this particular pair clean all semester, a new record for me, and I was rather proud of how clean they were. Mom just shrugged and said "alright we'll buy you some new ones". 

My mom is not cheap, but she's not an extravagant spender either. I was thrown off by the fact that she would just throw down money for a new pair of sneakers at the only (overpriced) store in town simply because I forgot mine at home. But that was part of the beauty of the Homestead, money didn't exist here. Thirsty? Go buy a soda. Hungry? Go pay 10 bucks for a bowl of soup. Need sneakers? Buy them. I think that's part of the reason I love the Homestead so much, because of the mindset that it puts my family in. We don't just save up enough to afford the room at the hotel, we save beyond that when we plan to go so that we can afford the luxury of leaving the credit cards in our room and just charging what we needed to the room. In these recession wracked times, this luxury is more fulfilling than ever.

So Mom and I walked down to the store to buy a new pair of sneakers. We found a pair in my size, tried them on, bam, new sneakers. Mom paid for them and I embarrassingly thanked her. She shrugged and said "I've been trying to buy you a legitimate pair of sneakers for years. Now maybe you won't hurt yourself so much at that job of yours this summer". I thought about it, "Wow!" I exclaimed "Just think of how many fridges I can move in these!". Mom sighed, she really hates my job sometimes. Three weeks later I must say that these shoes are absolutely fantastic and I don't know what I was doing by cheaping out when buying sneakers. A good pair of sneakers feels spectacular!

We stopped by the pool to make sure OMP was still alive. There we found him alone in the pool floating along in pure bliss. I fully expect him to have installed an indoor pool in my sisters room/his "office"/my storage room by the end of the summer. He got out of the pool when he saw us, dried off and told us that he "felt like a millionaire". With OMP became the first to reach the "like-a-millionaire" status we were all grasping for. 

What OMP sees in his dreams (note the potted palms)

We met up with Caroline who I can only assume had been at the gym and went down to the Great Hall for tea. 

(Again with the potted palms, I need some of those for my room!)

Pots of tea were brought over and we quickly drained them. Our family can drink tea, we are all huge tea fans. Add the fact that we were tired and caffeine deprived and it becomes clear that another round was needed. Luckily at The Homestead your wish is their command and two more pots were brought over in a jiffy. Revived and relaxed, it was time to continue our day.

OMP headed to the....well we'll say library for the sake of keeping this story going, while the women went to the concierge to see what movies were playing in the theater that night. Nothing good was playing, just some animated film. Oh well. A couple made dinner reservations in front of us and we overheard that the dining room would be open the next night. When our reservations were first made we were told that for some reason the dining hall would only be open on our last night. Mom and Caroline practically tackled the nice young couple out of the way in order to change our reservation for the next night from the tavern to the dining room. 

It turns out in an effort to cut the budget, the hotel was only opening one of their restaurants at night, rather than both. Mom bit the bullet and asked how the hotel was faring in the economy. Without hesitation the concierge replied "Not well". Her frank outlook on the situation shocked us. In an environment where everyone goes out of their way to please you and tell you what your want hear, her honestly was a shocking reminder that we were not Vanderbilts in the gilded, but rather a normal middle class family in the "oops, now what" age as I like to call it (I named it that after my time in Ireland. That seems to be the general feeling over there...oops!). Luckily Caroline had moved on to a rather difficult puzzle in the corner by this point. It's always best to not burst her bubble. 

Despite our shocking reminder of the times we were still pleased that we were able to change our dinner reservations for the next night to the infinitely more classy dining room. It was getting close to dinner time as it was, so we went back upstairs to change. 

As I was changing I looked outside and noticed the most fascinating spectacle, a group of people dressed as Confederate soldiers and southern belles. As if we hadn't already identified ourselves as the hotels only northerners, Caroline and I threw open the window and began pointing and taking pictures

(not classy)

(not classy)

We scampered down to Sam Sneads Tavern, stopping to gawk at the Southern culture show going on (as we walked by they were having a hawking demonstration, complete with live hawk). At Sam Sneads we enjoyed a delightful meal, although we were all excited that we would get to eat in the dining hall the next day. After dinner we crashed in bed. I tried to read my book but only got about two pages in before crashing. The trip was off to a good start and there was so much more to go.

Coming up in Part III: I promise you will meet Al.

Family Vacation: A Multi Part Epic, Part I

There is nothing in the world more fantastic than a Bogucki Family Vacation. Like most things we do, BFVs are delightfully classy. Past vacation spots have included Utica, NY, Altoona, PA, an abandoned town in upstate New York and perpetual family favorite Pittsburgh. Basically the idea of BFVs are if the place was once thriving and is now experiencing a bit of economical depression, than it's the place to go. Unfortunately this means on the rare times that we do go someplace prosperous, we're the kiss of death. Luckily, we don't mind, that might even make it better. 

Four years ago my family found the Homestead Resort in Hot Springs, VA. Caroline had recently been deported from England and she was sad so clearly a family vacation was needed. I was not included on this family vacation, it's a sore subject. Long story short they loved it. It was the perfect mix of class and history that is needed in a BFV. The Homestead is one of the last remaining classy old-money mountain resorts that used to be popular in the early 20th century. Here people wait on you hand and foot, open doors for you, pull out your chair and basically stop only just short of physically moving your feet to allow you to get from place to place. It is elitist and fantastic. For some reason our family likes to imagine that if we were a family in the early 20th century we would be one of these high-class wealthy families who would "summer" places. While our pretty stellar education background would support this theory, we are doomed by our vowel-ending last name and ruddy Irish complexion. Luckily racism has evolved since then and our prep school pedigree makes us acceptable Homestead visitors.

The next year I was invited on the BFV when they decided to return to this land of milk and honey. I packed up my dresses and skirts and prepared to live the lifestyle that I believed I had been deprived of for so long. The days that followed were incredible. At dinner in the dining room every night I would enjoy filet mignon while men in tuxedos and women in clothes that cost more than my car danced to a classy band. The days were spent swimming in the indoor pool that looked like something out of Daddy Warbucks house or lounging with a book in the library amongst potted palms (I am of the belief that potted palms are the ultimate in class). It was like being on the Titanic without the unfortunate sinking episode. This was clearly the Bogucki Family heaven that we had been missing for so long. We returned home from vacation and immediately began saving for our next visit.

As you may have heard, I recently graduated from college. My summer boss began asking how soon I would be able to work and I realized that I would need to get out of town for at least a week following graduation if I wanted any hope of a vacation this summer. Mom began making suggestions, including such exotic places as Bermuda, a cross country trip out west and family favorite Pittsburgh. I met each one of these with excitement although secretly waiting for the news that we had saved up enough to return to the Homestead. OMP and Caroline each said that they were going to have to pass on this BFV as they were busy with...whatever it is that they do with their lives. With only Mom and I attending this vacation, it was determined that yes, a trip to the Homestead would be doable. A room was booked and excitement began to build. OMP got wind that we were going to the Homestead and suddenly end of the year chaos at Princeton disappeared and he was completely free. Caroline heard Homestead and suddenly her busy schedule of baking brownies and playing flip-cup was freed up and she hopped on board as well. I was pumped, it was going to be an honest to goodness BFV.

Longest introduction to a story ever. 

At 5 in the morning two days after graduation I was dragged out of bed and directed towards the car. OMP began to load the car and I began to supervise. Clearly I was terrible at my job as I didn't notice that he forgot my shoe bag (not as classy as it sounds, it was a GS tote bag with some shoes in it). We'll come back to this. We set off into the early morning, slowly chipping away at the 7 hour drive ahead of us. The ride to the resort is one of the best parts. We are a very Northern centric family. There is no mistaking that. We RARELY go south of the Mason-Dixon line, which is strange considering it's creepily close by. Caroline's move to DC has forced us to cross that mysterious line far more times than I would like. Our ride through rural Virginia is as exotic to us as Europe. We pass through Kelsey's new town and I realize that yes, a lot of cows do live there, she is not lying to us. We twist our way through small towns, stop at a gas station with a surprisingly lovely bathroom before eventually making it the top of the mountain. Here we stop to enjoy the serenity before descending down the mountain to nirvana. 

We pass by the Jefferson Baths (we'll get to those later) and twist our way into Hot Springs where the Homestead rises up before us, calling us to the lifestyle that we wish we had become accustomed to.

(Note: Picture definitely not taken by me)

Unfortunately our room wasn't ready and as we had been up since 5 in the morning we were quite tired. We gave the front desk our number and colonized the library. Within 5 minutes we had all passed out on lounge chairs (amongst the potted palms). At one point the gardener came by and started watering the palms, I think she almost watered Mom as well. Our vacation wasn't off to a classy start......

Coming up in part II: Al the Nature Guide and the shocking realization that even dreams aren't recession proof.

Lock It Down, Folks

6/4/09-Please note edit

Well, I can now cross going on lockdown off of my to-do list. 

That's right, after being protected from the world of public school during high school I had the joy of going on lockdown today at work when reports of a gunman on campus surfaced. Our first hint that something was wrong came when my friend Lucy called asking if we knew what was happening on campus as all of the P-Safe cars were out in full force. We did not, so we suggested that she return to the office as they would probably just get in the way of her picking up signs. 

Right after I hung up the phone, Andrew came into the room staring at his cell phone. "Um....apparently there's a gunman on campus". After years of hearing about Columbine, Virginia Tech, etc, I've always wondered what I would do in this situation. I'm a panicker by nature. I panic at the littlest sign of trouble. I imagined if I ever heard about the slight possibility of a person with a gun within a block of me I would immediately lock all of the doors, dive under the nearest table and start saying the rosary. That was not my reaction, nor anyone else in the office's reaction. We calmly shut the doors as a precaution and stayed away from the windows, but generally we just went about our work as per usual. Due to sure curiosity we kept checking the news reports but nothing was showing up. We called those who might worry about us, answered the phone every time it rang with the same automated message and waited. 

It was strange that waiting. I guess subconsciously we all knew that nothing was actually wrong. There were no sirens, so no one had been hurt. The seniors who were moving out hadn't gotten the message that there was a "gunman" on campus and were thus moving around as if nothing was wrong. It was pretty clear that everything was going to be alright. Yet we waited. We didn't go near the doors or windows. We waited. That minor chance, that minor thought in the back of my mind of "what if something enormous has just happened?" The complete lack of news other than vague "gunman" in a non-identified part of campus led to a lot of speculation. Having never gone through anything as dramatic as a campus shooting in my life, I wondered if this eerie calm was actually signaling something terrible. I didn't know, so I waited.

Edit: A call came through that broke the monotony of the University's automated message. "Tara?!?!? Who? Marianna? What sort of excitement am I missing!". Cindy, everyones favorite former director of CES, had taken a break from Joe Biden beach watching to turn on her television only to find that her beloved University was under attack. Cindy provided us with far more information than the automated message/text messages/website combined. She was the first sign that news had spread outside of the confines of campus, luckily the news she had heard was that the gun was fake. 

At 11:30 the media circus started as all of the area news helicopters arrived at once. Within 3 minutes of hearing their chop-chop-chop in the sky we got the all clear to leave our offices if we wanted. Just in time for lunch. I ran outside to count the helicopters. I really like when I can read what channels they're from, so I was excited to see that CBS sent both their New York and Philadelphia teams. Pretty awesome. One of the seniors wandered across the street to ask why there were so many helicopters. Whoops! You really need to work on that notification system, Princeton! 

Eventually it came out that it was just four teens looking for free booze in the dumpsters. They found a fairly realistic looking water gun and were walking around with it. OMP was hoping that it would be a student so that he could kick him out of school or something. He'll be disappointed that it was just a no good townie. I'm hoping it was the townies that have been spray painting our van to look like a NASCAR car every night. A part of me is also hoping this was all an elaborate set up by P-Safe to scare people away from dumpster diving, a Princeton post-commencement tradition. The possibility that I might be arrested for walking away with a toy from a dumpster is a fairly big deterrent. You win this round, P-Safe.

Commencement Wrap-Up: Only 2 Weeks Late

I know I haven't written a real entry in weeks. I'm starting to avoid this blog the way I used to avoid reading the comments at the end of a paper written two hours before it was due. I just keep clicking over it. I have tons to write about but it's almost too overwhelming to think about it so I just avoid it. Meanwhile, fantastic blogable events keep happening but since I'm a stickler for chronology I refuse to write about them until I finally write about the fact that I graduated. 

I don't know why writing about graduation has been so tedious. Right now you're all thinking "clearly you don't want to admit that college is over and that you're now a grown up". Not true, I am fully ok with admitting that college is over. College was hard. Fun, but hard. I am very much alright with the fact that come September I'm not going back. Talk to me in September, and I might sing a different tune, but right now I am A-OK with being home and futureless. 

Maybe it's for the best that I'm not going to write some giant graduation wrap up detailing all the events. It would probably bore you. It certainly bored me at times. Here are the basics of what you'll need to know. On Saturday Philadelphia's Mayor Nutter spoke to the crowd at Convocation. He gave one of the strangest speeches I've even heard, often times it sounded like he had written it down on a napkin on his way to the school, however I enjoyed it. It wasn't forced at all. He just sort of stood up there and shot the s*** to use a foul but very apt phrase. I was certainly amused. After Convocation we had Garden Parties where my friends Amanda and Chandlee put on a fantastic garden party for my family. We were, to my knowledge, the only party with balloon hats. After Garden Parties my family dressed up in really fancy clothes and went out to a really fancy restaurant in Philadelphia. Basically my sister and I treated graduation weekend like a fashion show with numerous dress changes. The food was fantastic and the waiter put a candle in my key lime pie, which is always fantastic. 

Sunday was the big show. After brunch with the family, including my 93 year old grandmother who was quite the trooper today, we all packed up my room in an effort to make the post-graduation clean up as quick as possible. Caroline, OMP and Babunia went off to go reserve seats while Mom stayed behind to help me get pretty and to take 30,000 pictures. Upon going outside I realized that it was DAMN COLD. WOW, unexpected. I was definitely not prepared for it to be so cold outside. I lined up with my class and shivered as the wind blew against my legs. This did not bode well. As we marched into the giant tent on the green I was distressed to see that it was not warmer in there than it was outside. I sat down in my seat, saw all of the grad students in front of me and fully realized just how long this ceremony was going to be. 

To give Bryn Mawr credit they didn't mess around. They got straight to the point of handing out the degrees and it moved as fast as a ceremony giving out as many degrees could. This didn't help the fact that Ari and I were sitting right next to the edge of the tent and weren't protected from the cold at all. California Ari was clearly in physical pain, while I was just mildly uncomfortable. 

When it came time for my row to stand I felt some unexpected nerves. I'm not sure why I wasn't expecting to feel nervous, this was a major life moment, but I was thrown off by the pit in my stomach and shakes. I had imagined this moment for years. During every late night paper writing session, during every finals week, there has always been a moment where I've sat back and imagined myself grabbing that diploma. It's always been such a beautiful moment, everytime I've wanted to hand in a paper that was 3 pages when it should have been 10. Every page of a book that I've wanted to just forget and hope that it doesn't come up on the final. Every time I've wanted to quit (and believe me, there were PLENTY of times) the image of that diploma was always so vivid in my mind and I knew that the moment I finally grabbed it would be the most satisfying moment of my life. 

I guess realizing that that moment was only moments away justified the nerves. As I inched my way up towards the podium the pit got stronger and stronger. I started stressing out, oh crap, don't be that girl that pukes on stage. In front of me someone's name was messed up, oh crap, what if they mispronounce my name. Alright, focus. No puking and no stressing out about your name. I got up there and as soon as the professor with the fabulous British accent began to announce my name everything went silent. I know, it sounds cliched but it was like a movie. I didn't hear him announce my name. I didn't hear the applause from the crowd. I didn't even look the president in the eye. I zeroed in on that diploma and I walked across the stage to get it. I looked at President McAuliffe as I took hold of my degree and the volume on life came back just in time to hear her say "Excellent Job, Marianna". I'm ashamed to say I don't think I thanked her but rather just smiled and nodded. For the first time in four years I had that diploma that I had so frequently envisioned in my hands. I could feel it. It was real and it was mine. 

Post graduation was all a blur, pictures were taken, hugs were had, room was packed, party at home was celebrated. In every picture that has gradually appeared on facebook since, however, the biggest, most beautiful smile has been on my face. I didn't want graduation to be such a big deal. People who need commencement ceremonies to feel good about their accomplishments are tools who require praise and ridiculous ceremonies. But it truly was a special moment. Maybe because imagining that moment has been what got me through Bryn Mawr. I so rarely fully accomplish my goals. I'm not the type to fail, but until college I rarely allowed myself to struggle. I struggled at Bryn Mawr, frequently, but for some strange reason I wouldn't allow myself to settle for comfort this time. To settle for C's or mediocracy. I didn't exactly end with a 4.0 (Let's make that clear, by no means did I end with a 4.0 or anything close to a 4.0) but I earned every grade I got. I was the president of a club, a hall advisor and held a bunch of different jobs on campus. I gave architecture tours on parents weekend and served on panels on prospective students weekend. While ending with a sub-4.0 grade, I definitely earned my Bryn Mawr degree. 

To sum it up, while I hate to be a tool......commencement felt pretty damn good. 

I know, I know

Anyone wondering why I haven't updated in awhile can contact the Princeton lockshop. They can definitely account for my whereabouts over the past week. 

I'll be back soon.

Summer Blog

http://liesitoldtoday.blogspot.com/

Recapping those little lies we all let slip when desperate to keep conversation going.

Ever say something just because, but when thinking about it later realize it was a complete lie? That's what this blog is for. I'll recap the little lies that I've told recently and accept submissions from my readers as well. This is not a space to confess to murder. This is solely for those random things that we say and then wonder "why the heck did I say that" later. It could fail miserably, but I'd like to give it a try.

Housekeeping

Things to cover

1. Graduation

-Yep, it happened, I made it through The Mawr. Despite honestly thinking it wasn't going to happen numerous times this year, it seems they thought I was fit to leave. Graduation weekend has a lot to talk about so we'll need to cover that at some time.

2. Vacation

-Immediately following graduation the Bogucki family hit the road and went on vacation. As Bogucki family vacation stories are always popular, we'll have to devote an entry to this at a later point.

3. The future of this blog

-If any of you think I'm going to stop blogging you're sorely mistaken. You're stuck with me, deal with it.

The problems

1 and 2. Graduation/Vacation

-There is a lot to cover and I just don't know how to cover it without writing it out detail by detail. I will try and come up with a solution to this within the next two days

3. The future of this blog

-My yearly indentured servitude at Princeton started today. Besides taking up a lot of free time that would otherwise be dedicated to blogging, my boss has also declared the office a blogging blackout zone. As my life in the summer IS the office, we might have a problem here. You might be in for a fun summer of movie reviews. 

-I think if we're going to continue this we might need to come up with a more focused mission statement for the blog (I'm using 'we' statements here because I like to think of my readers and myself as a team). Me rambling about my day is going to get old once I'm completely unemployed and sitting on my parents sofa all day. Maybe we can get this blog a theme that can then turn it into an instant hit a la "texts from last night" or "fml". Then I won't have to get a job. Everyone wins.  Send me a message if you have any ideas for the blog. 

Success

Looks like I need a new title for this blog

Senior Week Recap

Great Adventure

Senior week began with a trip to Great Adventure. Nicky, Andrea and I agreed to stick together as none of us liked roller coasters. We arrived at Great Adventure only to find out that unlike other amusement parks, there were really no non-coaster alternatives at the park. No problem, we still had a lovely day watching all of the animal shows, eating Dippin Dots and going on the Teacups multiple times.

Hero of the Day: Anthony, ride operator extraordinaire who not only handled the ferris wheel but also the pirate ship

Quote of the Day: "Welcome Back Riders!" Said at the end of every ride. Including those that did not go anywhere.

Second Runner Up Quote of the Day: "King Da Ka is a great swimmer, he is the Michael Phelps of tigers. Speaking of Michael Phelps, looks like someone has the munchies"-Perhaps I should get a job as the host of the Six Flags Tiger Show. It looks like an entertaining job.

Monday

Boat "Cruise" on the Mosholu

A booze cruise is a typical senior week event. This year it was replaced with dinner on a stationary boat/restaurant. While initially met with some resentment, it ended up being a lovely time. We all got dressed up and enjoyed a beautiful night looking at scenic Camden. Afterwards we had some fun at Dave and Busters, although we were all pretty spent by the time we got there. I played some games, got myself a stuffed dog named Archibald and found myself out of cash and plays with still an hour to go. This lead to me enjoying numerous glasses of free water while I waited for my friends to finish up.

Unfortunately this would be my downfall as we ended up in the traffic jam from hell on the way back. For SOME reason busses from Bryn Mawr love to go to Philadelphia by taking Lancaster Ave, to City Line Ave, to the Schuykill. These are three TERRIBLE roads. Any readers of my blog would know that while on paper it's not a great route, an incredible amount of time is saved by taking I-95 to the Blue Route. Does anyone listen to me? No. That's how we wound up stuck in a traffic jam at 1 in the morning on the Schuylkill. Only the Schuylkill would have a traffic jam at 1 am because they Schuykill is one giant traffic jam. I even wrote a paper about this! People on the bus are tired, their drunkeness is quickly fading into hangovers and they're getting grouchy. I'm quickly realizing that I have 3 full glasses of water in me and am about to be in distress. 

Despite my decision at the beginning of Senior Week that I would go out of my way to make sure that I did not make a fool out of myself, I'm ashamed to say it got to the point where I had to run up to the bus driver and plead for the door to be opened. After a quick discussion she relented and I set about losing my dignity on the Schuylkill Expressway. I reentered the bus to applause and quickly ducked into a seat hiding my head in shame. After sitting in traffic for another half hour we finally made it home where the bus driver stopped me as I was exiting and said "Oh I'm not forgetting you!" Great. Just great.

Hero of the Day: Bus driver who opened the doors on the Schuylkill Expressway during the traffic jam from hell at 1 in the morning allowing for certain needs to be met and giving me a bit of fame during Senior Week

Quote of the day: "My life is a musical"-Paige W. as she jumped from chair to chair on the Mosholu

Thought of the night: Who the hell thought a restaurant where the only views were of Camden and I-95 would be successful?

Tuesday

Tassle Tea

Tuesday was pretty low key. The Alumnae Association threw a reception at the restaurant on campus where we received our graduation tassles and copious amounts of champagne. We were under the impression that once the champagne was gone the underclassmen student workers would be allowed to go home so out of the goodness of our hearts we set to work trying to finish the bottles. An hour and a half later we would be informed that there were actually two whole other cases in the kitchen. 

Hero of the Night: The Alum Association and their cases of free champagne

Quote of the Night: Anything said during Paige W's "impart wisdom on the underclassmen" time

What is "impart wisdom on the underclassmen time": After champagne time we met in Paiges room and hung out with some underclassmen. We put Vitamin C's "Graduation" on some speakers and began yelling out any advice we had for them, making sure to stop and all join in during the chorus. 

Wednesday

"Bowling" and "Night Club"

Wednesday night was supposed to be bowling and a night club. The problem is that the bowling alley we went to only had 3 lanes and was more of a lounge, and the night club was really more of a bar filled with sketchy men. Oh well, good try.

Hero of the night: The woman who literally put out a bowl full of quarters so that we could play pinball at the bowling alley. I made about 4 bucks in quarters this way

Quote of the night: "Hey man, you wanna bowl some more?"-Said by a fratty looking boy to his friend after they exited the bowling alley only to find 3 busloads of girls in party dresses entering the alley

Runner up quote of the night: "I'm sorry, did a truck load of girls not just enter this club?"-Said by Ari after a guy complained to her that he doesn't usually have to wait in line to get into the "club"

Thursday

Bar "Crawl"

Thursday night was a goodbye to the Main Line bars that we apparently frequent. We don't get out much so saying goodbye to them really wasn't that neccessary. Nonetheless we got our wristbands which apparently gave us drink specials that night and headed up to Erin's Pub, the only place that we could even consider calling our "college bar". We're that lame. We tried to "crawl" down the road to Kelly's, but we really hate that place. The night ended back at Erins for some people and alone walking back to Bryn Mawr in the dark for others.

Hero of the night: Drew, mainly because Ari was pissed that we spent the night talking about Drew.

Quote of the night: "Yes, you'll find them on that board over there under 'Thursday'"-Erin's Pub bartender when asked if our wristbands got us any drink specials there. 

Runner up quote of the night: "It's cool, I have some Easy Mac and crackers in my room, I'll just eat that"-just one part of the epic 5 minute long phone message

Friday

Graduation Rehearsal 

(Note: CLEARLY this is not a picture of my own rehearsal, but it was the only one on Google Images that accurately described my feelings on the day)

Graduation rehearsals always suck. No explanation neccessary.

Hero of the day: No one. 

Quote of the day: "In case of an emergency we will evacuate to Schwartz Gym. If the emergency is that Schwartz Gym just blew up, no one panic, just turn around and walk to the library. See, it's simple"-Said completely dead pan by the Bryn Mawr CES director. 

Doc Fest: In Which We Experiment With New Technology

Shameless Plug

It's senior week at Bryn Mawr right now, a full recap will come on Friday, but right now I need to make a shameless plug to all of you creepy Bryn Mawr seniors that I KNOW read this blog. Vote for me for class notes editor. Paige and Nicky nominated me as punishment for going home one night instead of going to senior cocktails. As much as I like to be modest and pretend that I'm embarrassed by this nomination....come on, I'm the person who wrote an entire blog bragging that I won 7 medals at dorm olympics. I can't even lie, I would LOVE to be class notes editor. It combines everything I love in life, attention, praise and attention. Also a little bit of gossip and writing thrown in there. 

Here are my official promises to you, the glorious class of 2009, if you make me your class notes editor. 

• Unlike the class of '83s class notes, ours will be funny
• While not nearly as scandalous as the class of '59s notes, all scandalous stories will be put first in the column 
• I promise to not only write  about myself
• Every column will end with a running total of how many people Paige "Music Box Killer" Safyer has killed. 
• I will create a cuteness scale with which I will rate all new baby photos sent in so that we can have a definite answer as to who has the cutest baby in the class
• Every column will contain one lie. If you write in to me and are the first to guess correctly then the next columns lie will be about you
• If its a slow news period I will use the column to insult the other classes and challenge them to rivalries to be settled at reunions (Class of '63, you're up first)
• It will be like a semi-annual published blog devoted solely to the Class of 2009, and who wouldn't want to read that!
• I promise that if elected I will finally succumb to my professors wishes and learn the difference between its and it's. I might even learn how to spell. Hell I might even learn how to properly use commas. 

What are my qualifications?

• This blog.
• I have read class notes from various colleges, universities and prep schools since I was able to read. I may have even learned to read by reading these notes. The amount of alumni magazines that we get at our house is mind blowing. We get magazines for schools that no one in the house even went to. I know how these things work.
• mariannasadventures.blogspot.com (which I reread the other day and realized that it was an INFINITELY better blog than this one)
• I write a semi-annual newsletter for my summer job. Examples available upon request. 
• Again, if you are a senior reading this blog it's because you enjoy my work. Let me write about you!

It's going to be a heated battle in which I am up against a bunch of my friends. This makes me angry. I have been approached twice about running on a joint ticket and have declined. I work alone. I am funnier than my friends, it's just a fact. They might be "better writers" who are able to "spell" and "use commas correctly" but come on, they're boring! It's a proven fact, if your writer is boring then no one will send in class notes. They've done studies on this. If your writer is fun and exciting, everyone's going to want to send notes in. Again, they've done studies on this. At...some...place. But it's a proven fact. 

Best of luck to my competitors, however I intend to approach this competition with the same intensity that I approached the dorm olympics. I'm not sure if you remember, but I walked away from that one with not one, but seven medals. I go balls to the wall when random competitions of minor importance come up, and to quote Michael Scott "Our balls are in your court". Game on.

Tool Update: In which Penn tries to ruin my sanity one last time

I handed in my last paper at 3:30 in the afternoon on Saturday. I had stayed up all night finishing every last bit of work that I had, desperately squeezing it in before the 5:00 deadline. After breathing a sigh of relief I checked my e-mail to see what's new. There I see a message from my Penn professor claiming he can't open our project. Of course. Of course just as I was about to celebrate Penn brings me down. I e-mailed him every piece of information that we had ever written in any type of format I could save it as and closed my e-mail. I had finished college and not even Penn could bring me down.

My Future as a Nun

We had a senior dinner with our department today. It was going to be at our professors house but at the last minute it was inexplicably changed to our dorm common room. Let down. Anyway, it led to fantastic awkward conversation with my advisor

Advisor: Marianna, what are you doing next year?

Me: No clue. No idea, no goals, no skills.

Advisor: You have plenty of skills that you just don't realize

Me: Such as.....

Advisor: You can do Excel

Me: Actually I can't, but that's your lead off?

Advisor: You can spell

Me: Excel and spelling! Those are my skills?

Advisor: Jeff, help me out here, what are Marianna's skills

Professor: She's a good listener

Me: I'm doomed.

Advisor: Have you thought about the church

Me: Are....you suggesting I become a nun?

He was in fact referring to my thesis and was wondering if I had explored employment with the church (I most definitely have not). Needless to say, not a good dinner for the confidence level. 

Tool Update: In Which We End on a Fairly Good Note

Twitchy e-mailed us all last Friday to set up a make-up presentation time. As none of them e-mailed me during Fling I made an executive decision to not e-mail them back until after May Day. I assumed that come Monday morning I would open gmail to find Tanner and Twitchy to have arranged a meeting time that I could agree to and all would be fine. On Monday morning I find that Tanner also chose to ignore Twitchy's e-mail and that Twitchy had not followed through to find out why we had both been failures. Oh well. I tried. Oh wait, I didn't.

Eventually it was decided that we would meet the professor at 3 on Wednesday to present. Tanner suggested that we all get together at 2 in order to go over the presentation one last time, look at him taking initiative. I eagerly agreed. I took the earlier train in so as to guarantee I wouldn't be late. As a result I was REALLY early, so I wandered around the Penn bookstore for awhile. I'm definitely now on their creeper list. It turns out I was even earlier than I thought as when I got to our meeting location, neither of them were there. After waiting 10 minutes I texted Twitchy who claimed that we weren't meeting until 2:30. I assumed that I had read the e-mail wrong and settled back to do some quality waiting. I would later check the e-mail when I got home and see that they clearly said "2:00pm". Once again, Twitchy did not correctly use the reply all feature and I was not informed of the change of plans. 

Once we all met up we went over the presentation a couple of times, each time Twitchy was very concerned that I wasn't going to be able to speak for 5 minutes. This may come as a shock to most of you, but I try not to talk in this class. When I talk that means I'm taking talking time away from others, and when others in that class talk I am amused. Twitchy thought that speaking for 5 minutes would kill me, ha, that makes me laugh. 

We walked over to our classroom and found two guys in there watching soccer on the projection screen. It was around this time last year that I got really into soccer in Ireland and so I felt a rare twinge of "study-abroad sickness". Twitchy and Tanner looked angry that they were using our classroom, I pulled up a chair and asked the score. Just as the two guys were about to tell me Tanner asked them to find another room and switched the display over to powerpoint. These two honestly do make an effort to ruin all of my fun. 

The three of us sat in silence for awhile, occasionally making fun of the other groups presentations before the professor arrived. Giving a presentation to a single person, when the the goal of the presentation is to present to a group of people, is a very strange thing. I didn't know whether to look at the professor the whole time or to pretend like there were other people in the room. Very awkward. Tanner started it off before tossing it over to me for my bit. As I began my section I heard Twitchy mutter to Tanner "Wow, look at her go! Unexpected....". Damn right, there's nothing I enjoy more than a good presentation. Twitchy stepped up, contradicted everything I had said in my part and then brought us home with finances. A few moments of silence passed before the professor launched into a series of questions. Overall? We did pretty well. I was impressed and I think the professor was too.

After the presentation was done the professor asked me when my grades had to be in again, as it was earlier than Penn. Upon hearing he needed the grade by Monday he said that as long as we got it in by Friday (the due date) we would be fine. Twitchy got a little huffy and said I never said it had to be due by Friday for us. I told him that since the project was DUE on Friday I didn't think that would be a problem. Twitchy mumbles something about how we could have dragged it out over the weekend but generally seems to realize that he doesn't have an argument here.

At that point I considered the project over. I still had to complete a write up for the final product but all of my interaction with the tools was done. The rest could be completed over e-mail. Until Twitchy said, in front of our professor, "let's meet on Friday to make this thing". You can't really say no to that in front of the professor. If he knew we put the entire thing together by e-mail I think that would affect our grade. I sigh and agree, but only if we meet in the morning at a time that would allow me to get back to Bryn Mawr for a meeting at 12. Tanner, full time alcoholic, looks pained at the idea but agrees. We go our separate ways, I try not to punch any Penn students in my way on the way out. 

This morning I chose to drive to Penn so that I wasn't at the mercy of the SEPTA schedule and would be able to make it back for my meeting. After circling the block I found the perfect spot right outside our meeting location. I pulled in and went to the meter only to find the message "Out of Order, see time limit". What the hell does that mean? Does that mean I can stay here for 3 hours without paying? That would be incredible. Or does it mean I can't park here. Only one person will know the answer to this, mom. Mom doesn't know the answer but she's more than willing to call the Philadelphia parking authority. Hooray. We're put on hold. No hooray. As we wait on hold I see a Penn public safety guy on a bike coming down the road. I rather rudely hang up on my mother and jump in front of him and begin wildly asking if I would be towed. He tells me to hold on and returns to his phone call with his friend. OH COME ON! I really, really hate this place. After finishing his phone call he tells me "yea, no problem, just no more than 3 hours!". No problem with that!

I run inside to meet Tanner and finish this beast of a project. Tanner pulls up what he's been working on for our write up and I have to admit, it's pretty. While he rarely e-mailed us back and could be a flake at times he really pulled it together in the end with the presentation and write up, and he's also a nice guy. Twitchy comes flying in, having overslept and pulls up the write up I had sent him last night (ideally for him to have read last night, but oh well). He frantically scans through it then looks at me astonished "This last line is perfect! Such bullshit but perfect for our marketing plan" (for the record the last line was referring to diversity). Damn right, I can bullshit with the best of them. We put it all together into our write up and it looks great. Honestly, truly great. I'm proud of what we've created and am amazed that we managed to pull this off.

I had to run to my meeting so I said goodbye to the boys, going with the awkward "see you around" (yea right). As I pulled out of Philadelphia the Schuykill Expressway was stopped, so I turn onto the Vine St Expressway and headed for I-95. Right before I got on I-95 I was face to face with the Camden waterfront. Staring me in the face was the gaping hole in that waterfront where we were going to put our building. I couldn't stop, clearly, but I have to admit I took my eyes off of the road to stare. I could see our building there. It fit so nicely. I looked over to Old City and imagined two neighboring districts along both sides of the river. This project could work, it really could. 

As much stress as this class gave me, it was so refreshing to take a class that actually had a practical outcome. At Bryn Mawr we study the history or the policy of locations. It felt good to take a situation and create something rather than study something. I went into this project wanting to be a good person and create something that would help the people of Camden. What we created is a fairly upscale development that really won't be marketed at all to the people of Camden. It felt good to let my inner evil real estate developer out. If I had suggested this in a Bryn Mawr class I would be stoned. Instead I would have to have created eco-friendly community centers. The idea to create luxury condos just isn't an option. Not to be hokey, but the fact of the matter is, for the first time in my life I looked across the river at Camden and didn't see the past, I saw the future. I had a little laugh and said out loud to myself "holy crap....this really could work". I then looked to my right and saw that a truck was trying to merge into me and decided to never take my eyes off of the road ever again.

I hated this project with all my heart but I love what we created. Minor upgrade for Penn. 

Their basketball team still sucks.

Doc Night-In Which We Watch Multiple Docs

10:12-We will be viewing two films tonight. The first, a Werner Short on sculpter/skiier Walter Steiner. "The Great Ecstasy of Woodcarver Steiner". I introduced this film and gave quite a fantastic speech where I gave personalities to the great Netflix movie reviewers. I'm hilarious

10:13-Oh crap, this movie is in German! Unexpected obstacle.

10:15-Nicky finagles english subtitles onto the screen. This will be the first film where I will have to blog and read subtitles at the same time. Also, many of you know my feelings on subtitles. I hate them. 

10:16-Paige: Quick! Timothy Treadwell or this guy! We all unanimously agree on this guy, mainly based off of the qualification of being "not dead" and "not crazy"

10:17-Paige wonders if Michael Phelps carves wood in his spare time

10:18-OUCH. Skiing is painful

10:19-Somehow we've digressed to the regulations on beauty pagent entries. Paige claims it's harder than becoming president. We think that's a stretch.

10:19-Alright people, even though it's subtitled doesn't mean we can talk over it"

10:21-He appears to be ice fishing while talking to the camera

10:22-OMG Werner circa 1974 has appeared on screen. 'Stache and all. Even in German....his narration is fantastic. 

10:23-Paige deems Swiss people "sooooo attractive". Her back-up? Characters from Igmar Bergman films. Let's see how long it takes her to figure her mistake out.

10:23-We're now divided Team 1970's Werner vs. Team Walter

10:24-We've digressed into wondering how Werner might narrate a night of passion. "At this moment...on this spot....this is where I have exceeded my wildest expectations and performed beyond my abilities". The subtitles lead to far more snarky comments

10:26-Oh lord! Wiping out on the jump itself seems like the scariest thing ever! Not only do you crash but you then fall off the edge of the jump.

10:27-Paige just realized that I actually got everyone to watch a sports documentary

10:28-They keep mentioning countries that don't exist anymore. I start cracking up. Elizabeth accuses me of being insensitive to the genocides that occurred in these countries. Just once I'd like to get through Doc Night without being accused of racism or any other sort of insensitivity to other cultures.

10:29-1970's Werner speaking German provides a level of entertainment previously unknown.

10:30-Cell phone usage needs to be gotten under control at Doc Night!

10:35-Werner, out of no where, pulls out a giant walkie-talkie. He proceeds to have a conversation with the guy on the other end about himself, even though the guy wants to talk about Walters injuries. It's always about Werner. 

10:36-Apparently Walter wiped out and now can't remember anything and is bleeding profusely from the head. Werner doesn't seem too concerned

10:38-Werner warns us that we are now about to view the crash in slow motion. Thank you for the warning Werner

10:40-They left a concussed Walter alone then found him a half hour later in the woods. Way to almost lose your subject Werner

10:41-Walter goes to put his goggles on before realizing that it's going to hurt...a lot...

10:42-Paige: Wait! Is Swiss short for.... (We all stop and listen intently to what she'll say next)....Sw....shit, it's Switzerland isn't it, not Sweden. Giggles, Paige is an idiot

10:43-Elizabeth had been holding out for Campus Corner until Megan got here but can't wait any longer

10:46-Walter decides to start at a lower starting point than his competitors because he's just that good. Not going to lie, that's sort of a douchy move.

10:48-Ah, the ceremonial releasing of the pigeons

10:55-We look up what Walter Steiner is up to now. He now lives in Sweden, so Paige is....sort of right. We look up his town, sadly he's not a "notable resident" two mass murders, a paleontologist and "Susannas sister" are more important than him.

10:56-Now we're listening to some terrible story about a bird he tried to raise as a child and then release into the wild. When it didn't adapt to the wild he had to shoot it, it was the "only thing that could be done". Quite possibly the greatest 2 minutes in any documentary we've ever watched

10:57-Nicky counters that story with "One time my mom jumped into the duck pond to save a duck that was being attacked by another duck" You win again, Nicky

10:58-We start discussing the Doc Night t-shirts. Katelyn suggests we put our favorite quotes from my blog on it. I support that idea

10:59-Drew interrupts our t-shirt discussion and demands that Nicky finish the story about the duck. It gets better. Nicky was against saving the duck as it being attacked was "eh, natural order". After it was saved they brought it home and tried to raise it in a tub. They named it after an educational film they saw in school about smoking and cancer. Apparently they took it outside to walk it and it flew away. It did not appreciate the Belletier family generousity.

11:00-In researching this movie we keep finding Werner docs that we wish we watched. Apparently one is called "Werner Eats His Shoe"

11:02-Werner doc ends, time for Vernon, Florida. Recommended by Dr. Bill Crescoe of the University of Oregon. He studies something mol bio related. He came to Bryn Mawr to give a talk and Nicky was the only person to show up at his lecture. They decided to talk about Doc Night rather than mol bio. Strangely enough, this happens a lot. 

11:03-This is a documentary by acclaimed filmmaker Errol Morris. We realized we had not watched an Errol Morris doc and that's just wrong. Nicky claims it's perfect for us as we like movies where we can laugh at others. 

11:05-Nicky asks for questions about molecular biology. Paige asks why her speech sucked.

11:06-Now we're discussing saved AIM conversations. Apparently Drew is a creeper who saves AIM conversations. Let it go on record, Drew is a creeper.

11:07-Shit, lightening. Liz wants me to drive her to Batten after this is done. I refuse, I have a good parking spot.

11:12-We need subtitles to this one as well. Deep southern accents are impossible to understand with any background

11:14-I really don't know what's happening here...

11:17-Paige is bored with this movie and has decided to take the "which color is my aura" quiz on facebook instead. Elizabeth asks her to "report back soon with the answer"

11:18-It's green.

11:19-Megan's arrives. 

11:21-I wonder what color my aura is...

11:22-Is this the most boring movie ever made? Megan wonders

11:23-It's orange....oooo, there's one called How New Jersey Are You!

11:24-What we've learned so far. In order to catch fish you must kill your mule and drop it in the lake

11:27-That NJ quiz was North Jersey centric

11:29-I took my attention off of the tv for too long and now there is a guy pulling opossums out of a box. this is maddness. 

11:34-Nicky just flipped a shit about the fact that we are facebooking during her documentary. We are all shamed. 

11:35-Paige just points out that there are no women in Vernon, Fl. Interesting....

11:36-Drew is getting cranky and wants to watch another Werner one.

11:37-Apparently we haven't taken down the patriarchy yet and Drew gets his way

11:39-We will be watching La Soufriere about a volcano on Guadelupe

11:45-Paige has lost it. 

11:46-In La Soufriere, Werner explores the island of Guadelupe, abandoned after a volcano warning. He meets the few who have chose to remain

11:47-Oh god, unexpected dying puppy. Not ok

11:48-Seismic crisis

11:52-Werner defies warnings and gets as close to the volcano as possible. Reasons unknown.

11:58-"He only survived because he was the baddest guy in town" Ari nominates that as Drew's nickname. 

12:01-Katelyn has just revealed that she speaks French and that Werner is not correctly translating the subjects words

12:09-The volcano never erupted.

12:10-Whoa. minor racism. unexpected.

12:11-Did Werner save the island from destruction? Maybe. Is Werner God? Yes.

Next week we will be holding Doc-Fest from Noon until 8 at night. I'm working on big plans for it. Something spectacular.