Watching football with the family

We watch a lot of football in this house. Mom openly loves the Pats. OMP secretly loves the Eagles. Everyone hates the Jets. Today was a big day as all of these teams had big play-off hopes. This meant spending the afternoon in front of the television, fire in the fireplace (even though it was about 60 degrees outside) and yelling, nay, talking in elevated voices, at the television. I will outline the afternoon, through the help of youtube videos

I couldn't find a clip of this weeks game. So here's Wes Welker making a snow angel instead.

OMP: CHANGE IT! CHANGE THE CHANNEL!

Mom: CHANGE IT NOW! Your father can't handle this commercial!

 

I hate this commercial. I am of the belief that a car cannot be considered the best gift ever as it will be out of date within a year and you will be angry that you don't have the newest model.

Mom: I don't get it

Mom: I actually enjoy this commercial. I enjoyed it even more last year.

Mom: I like the Eagles when they play like this

Omp: E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES

I'd also like to note that this video makes me crack up each time I watch it. I love youtube.

Mom:....*sigh* you really can't hate him, can you.

Final tally on the day? Pats played a great game and showed

that they deserve to be in the playoffs. Brett Favre couldn't pull

through, however, and thus by his losing, eliminated the Pats.

Mom can tell you how. I blame his 

pregame speech which, no lie, went like this:

"Alright, let's just go out there, if it works, it works, if it doesn't oh well. I love you guys."

DAMN YOU BRETT FAVRE!

Eagles played one of the coolest games ever

and won my full support for the playoffs. I could use another parade.

We made Caroline pick us up a pizza, the fire didn't stop burning all day,

and my plague is getting better. Apart from the Pats being left out, I say it's

a good day!

Once more with feeling!

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

I apologize for the crazy font sizes. Apparently adding youtube videos makes the html go crazy

and I don't know how to fix it. Sorry.

Aw hell, in the words of the Teletubbies, AGAIN! AGAIN!

God's way of saying "Merry Christmas, Marianna. Thanks for coming back!"

I made my last entry a bit prematurely. I had assumed that most of the noteworthy happenings had already, well, happened. Rookie mistake, I completely forgot that Christmas Eve mass always brings the crazy.

I'm not sure what it is, but I can never make it through Christmas Eve mass without cracking up or in some other way completely offending Jesus and fellow church-goers. When I was younger and more immature I usually spent the entire mass making faces at my friend who was inevitably sitting directly across the church from us. He, as a good Catholic, would not acknowledge my ridiculousness and remained stoic throughout church. This infuriated me and made me even more determined to crack him. This always ended with my mom giving me a quick smack to the arm and a stern look. On the rare occasions I did crack him I would have the added obstacle of fighting the urge to raise my arms in victory. 

Three years ago I had the glorious moment of sitting behind Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block. This was before they got back together and made music videos involving them macking on girls young enough to be their illegitimate daughters. If you thought I was going to pay attention with him sitting right in front of me, I'm sorry but you are sorely mistaken. You guys don't believe me, I can tell. I kid you not, Joey McIntyre, in front of me, church. December 24th, 2006. 

Two years ago I made the mistake of wearing my thick woolen socks with my new pair of Uggs. It was not that cold to begin with and the packed church was warm. Around the prayer of the faithful I found myself going down. I finished mass barefoot that night.

Last year was the most epic of the Christmas Eve Mass fiascos, or so I thought. We went to my grandmothers church which featured a choir of late middle aged/early senior singers and a very old priest. The choir got me giggling with their attempts at gospel music. Many tried to get into it and be perky while others were clearly offended that someone would mess with their traditional songs and responding by remaining completely emotionless during the song. Hard to describe, but trust me, hilarious to watch. Then the priest started talking and it was all downhill from there. Snails have moved faster than the man talked. Every. Word. Was. Given. Equal. Time. And. Emphasis. He really nailed it home when he asked us all to say the lords prayer, then paused and added "verrrrrrrrry slowwwwwwwly". I started shaking but tried to hold it in. Next to me I noticed my sister was falling down. I was shocked to see her cracking up as she's usually pretty reliable for being stoic. I had been banned from sitting next to OMP due to an unfortunate behavioral incident at a wedding earlier in the year, my mother apparently thought Caroline would be able to keep me in line. This plan backfired and the combination of the priests request and Caroline trying to hold in her laughter were too much. I dissolved into laughter and had to sit down with my head between my legs to cover up the tears streaming down my face. I didn't think it could be topped.

God has a sense of humor, it seems, as this year he gave me my own personal Christmas gift.

I honestly went into church being careful not to make a fool out of myself. I kept going over possible circumstances and how I would deal with them. If I went into a coughing fit I would excuse myself until I regained composure. If the priest made an unintended sexual innuendo during his homily I would not yell out "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID" or even giggle. I would be allowed a small smile. Under no circumstances would I be allowed to make eye contact with OMP as that would undoubtably lead to a colossal failure of composure. I was going to make it through mass and make Jesus proud of me for once. 

We started mass with a sing-a-long of Christmas carols with the children's choir. Under Silent Night, the hymnal listed lyrics for English, Spanish and German translations. I asked OMP if he would like to sing the German version with me, we chuckled and began our off key howling in English. At precisely the same moment we both switched over to German, hoping to throw the other person off. Instead we just began the giggles. I thought this was the end. I panicked, the priest hadn't even walked down the aisle and I was already laughing. I regained composure and made it through the sing-a-long. The priest began his procession, swinging his incense dispenser the whole time. I spotted a problem, as you may have read I currently have the plague. As my asthmatic sister began to wheeze a bit, I realized this might spell doom for me and my injured lungs. I concentrated on not coughing, and succeeded, however I noticed that the room was really a lot smokier than usual. The people across the church were getting hazy, I was either going down again or the incense smoke was out of control. The choir began to sing again and I got my answer as the piano accompaniment was joined by the wail of the church fire alarm. I cracked up, openly, as I assumed this was a laughable moment. Lighthearted, ha ha ha, no harm done, right? Nope, the choir just sings louder, I assume they thought they could drown out the sound of the alarm. The congregation stares ahead, some joining in the song, others looking at the priest with looks of "now look what you've done!". Lots of hostility. OMP is shaking, trying not to laugh. Caroline is cracking up with me, thank you Caroline. Mom is smiling but worried about the feelings of the children's choir, so she joins the group that is singing loudly. The song, O Come All Ye Faithful if I remember correctly, is going on forever. They are making up verses, they have to be, there were at least 6 verses sung, only 3 listed in the hymnal. I wasn't laughing as hard as I wanted to be because I was hoping for one specific moment. You see the church is directly across from the fire station. I assumed that it was protocol to answer any alarms at any building. I was just waiting for the town alarm to go off and for the volunteer firemen who were in the church to run across the street to get their truck only to run back. I had an elaborate plan of how it was going to go, and it was going to be epic. My dreams were ruined, however, when the head priest, who was not saying mass, emerged from...somewhere...to the pulpit and with a perfectly straight face said "Don't panic, it's only the incense" before returning to his batcave.  Um, duh? No one was panicking. If I had to name all of the emotions in the room at that moment, panic would not even make the list. The choir keeps singing, we're on verse 24 by this point. The alarms are going off, I'm bitter that the fire department won't be coming, everyones getting a little testy...Caroline's still laughing. Finally the alarm stops, the mood lightens...THE CHOIR KEEPS SINGING, after verse 576 they finally stopped and allowed the priest to continue on his merry way. 

The rest of mass was conducted in a perfectly acceptable manner. I offended everyone around me by refusing to shake their hands during the offering of the sign of peace. Instead I offered "Merry Christmas, I have the plague, you don't want to shake my hand". I figured that the fact that I had been hacking into my hand all mass long would have warned them that they shouldn't shake it. Nope, they instead replied with "oh...well then...Merry Christmas?" before turning around in a huff. I'm sorry, I'm sick, you're elderly, I don't want this to end badly. Apparently it is in better taste to anonymously give someone the plague than it is to think about their health. My bad, next time I have some form of communicable disease I'll make sure to follow social standards rather than health standards. 

This entry was way longer than I thought it would be, this is only half of what I wanted to say. As I just took some Tylenol PM and am now in the process of passing out/wigging out, I'm going to save the rest for a later entry. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas! Have a fun "week in between holidays"!

Pre-Christmas Fun

I have a lot to cover here, so I'm going to need to divide it into sections.

First of all, how have the first few days of break gone?

Excellent. Sort of. I seem to have contracted the plague (for those of you keeping count between the two blogs, this is probably the 7th time I've claimed to have contracted the plague) and am quite frankly miserable. I considered writing a goodbye entry on the blog at 2 am this morning because I was pretty sure my lung had exploded during one of my coughing fits. By some form of Chirstmas miracle, however, I still have two working lungs. 

People keep asking me how I'm spending my break, and I honestly can't remember. It's become a bit of a blur. Most of it involves my sofa. I had to venture out last night, however, in order to go get my sister from the airport. I hadn't realized I had the plague yet so I agreed to go along for some fun. Food was promised, I was in. We left about 3 hours early for the 45 minute drive in order to allow time for food and traffic. This was our first mistake. On the drive to South Jersey I began to feel a bit under the weather. I coughed a bit, I had a stuffy nose. "Man up!" I told myself "This is no time to be a woman and get sick!" I should mention that my inner dialogue is a total chauvinist. It's gets awkward when you go to a women's college and frequently find yourself telling people to "Stop being such a woman". 

*CENSORED awful, awful joke removed here*

I've really gotten off track. Long story short, I was getting sick. We pulled into Famous Daves BBQ, a chain that allows us to pretend we're eating real BBQ food while comfortably sitting on a commercial highway in Cherry Hill. Eating dinner with my mother and father is always interesting because it is impossible for us to have a normal family conversation. OMP has taken to being extra ridiculous in hopes that I will write about him on my blog (I have to assume, because it's the only explanation for his crazy) and so while everyone around us was discussing the Eagles or holiday plans, OMP was giving us a lecture on the anatomy of the deer antlers above our table. G-Dawg (we're going to try out nicknames for my mom this week) was having none of that and called him out on being an attention whore. I, meanwhile, was falling quickly into the seventh layer of sickness hell as breathing was becoming difficult. What OMP didn't know is that I was planning on writing about our pretentious conversations even before he gave his scripted speech. Why? Because the first half of the dinner was an arguement between the three of  us over whether the Germans were justified in bombing the Lusitania in 1915. OMP claims the Germans shot an unarmed cruise line with no intelligence otherwise. G-dawg claimed  that the Lusitania was recently found to have actually had munitions on it, and thus the Germans must have known something. I claimed that the Germans got lucky and were probably tipped off by some narc. So if you had been listening to the conversations in Famous Daves last night, you probably would have heard something like this:

"McNabb really needs to...Christmas shopping...THE GERMANS KILLED INNOCENT CIVILIANS....like my new pants....mmmmmmmm, pork....LUSITANIA......Merry Christmas!....E-A-G-L-E-S-EAGLES...UNDERWATER ARCHAEOLOGY IS NOT REALLY ARCHAEOLOGY...can I get another Diet Coke"

After settling our differences and moving on to the second article in this weeks "Archaeology" magazine, the food thankfully came and distracted us from our arrogance. As we got up to go I realized that standing was becoming difficult. I stumbled out to the car, and realized that we still had to stop at the Christmas Tree Shop in order to do some last minute Christmas Shopping. 

Note: Christmas Tree Shop is not a Christmas store. It is a store that sells all sorts of goods year round. It is an ironic coincidence that we were there two days before Christmas. I do not shop in Christmas themed stores on principle. 

We began our wandering of the store, as that is the only way to shop at CTS. You must meander at a slow and steady pace. Anyone who knows me well will understand that this kills me. I love CTS but cannot stand the slow meandering. As walking and breathing were becoming hard, it added an extra obstacle. Plus, there are a lot of breakable things in CTS, glassware and such. I had to be on top of my game for an hour simply reminding myself to keep moving and to avoid anything breakable. More than one person stopped to stare at me. I'm sure I looked ridiculous. 

We got out of there and continued on to Philadelphia to pick CaBo (we're trying nicknames for everyone) up at the airport. We had plenty of time to spare. We are not good time managers. We expected the place to be packed as it is Christmas...instead it was eerily empty. Apparently people don't love each other this year. Oh well. We collected Caroline and returned home. By this point my vision was getting blurry and I was coughing like a smoker. Caroline simply talked louder about her trip to Mexico City so as to cover up my dying. We got home around 11 and had a nice birthday celebration for the sister, only three days late. As sick as I felt, I was not giving up Bakery House cake, so I rallied and got my head in the game long enough to devour two pieces of delicious. 

Today I feel better, we'll see what tonight brings. I have a busy day of crafting ahead of me, so that's keeping me on my toes.

I look like death

That brings us to section 2, what have you crafted so far over break?

Only the most epic snowflakes ever

Oh, and this bad boy!

I put my soon to be completed Cities degree to work by designing the layout of our traditional New England village. Note my usage of books to create a hill in the background.

Finally, Section 3: Gift buying

I know I said I was making all of my gifts, but I did go out today and buy a few additions. Here I noticed a hilarious trend, the husband buying the wife a gift. I think you can divide it into three sections.

First is characterized by a certain someone I was talking to yesterday. This man was all excited because he had bought his wife jumper cables for Chirstmas. He claimed that she was always talking about how she needed them and that she would never expect them. I told him that this is true, no woman would ever expect to receive jumper cables for Christmas. I know this person reads my blog too, but he probably won't read this until February, so I think I'm safe.

The second husband is the guy that goes to the store and has no clue what to buy their wife but goes by what is "pretty". I was at Burlington Coat Factory today and there was an aisle of glass vases that was filled with panicked men. They clearly did not know each other but they all kept turning to the guy next to them and saying "what do you think of this one" and "is this ok"? I would like to tell all of those men that, no, I highly doubt all of your wives want three foot tall glass umbrella holders. 

The third is the husband that brings the angry 12 year old daughter along. This girl is ticked off because it's the first day of winter break and she's being lugged along to pick out a gift for her mother. The father is usually yelling about how she just needs to help him out for this ONE EFFING MOMENT or bribing her with ice cream. More often than not the poor mother in this situation ends up with a pink fuzzy pillow and the newest Jonas Brothers CD. 

Back to the wrapping and the crafting. 

Merry Christmas, everyone! Have a great day! 

The Most Overrated Christmas Tradition

A few days ago my mom called and told me that she had bought a gingerbread house making kit. I was excited, gingerbread houses combine everything I love in life, crafting, building, and candy. After a full day of football watching I couldn't wait to get to work making what was sure to be a masterpiece. I blended the frosting together without any problem. It was the consistency of toothpaste, as the directions advised, and was easily placed into the decorating tube...thingy. My first problem came with the first section. The toothpaste-consistency frosting quickly turned to cement-consistency. The dammed piece of "gingerbread" (I highly doubt that was gingerbread) would not stand up on the piece of cardboard that was provided as a base. Frosting was flying out of the top of the tube, my pair of pajamas, which I had been wearing all day, were quickly becoming caked in frosting dust. The nagging cough was then aggravated  by the dust, giving me a cough not unlike that of someone who just escaped from a burning building. My mom walked in and found me engaged in war with my piece of gingerbread and asked if I needed help. All I could do was whimper. She got the first piece standing and talked me through putting up the second piece. It was smooth sailing from there on out, but honestly completely unenjoyable. Squeezing the frosting out was hard. It hurt my hands. The "gingerbread" kept falling to the side, frustrating me as I put everything together. Finally the house stood tall, ready for decorating. While again, I found no enjoyment in making it, I was dammed if I was going to let the house beat me. I was going to make the most beautiful house in the world just to spite the gingerbread gods (the tastiest gods, by the way). My dogs had found their way into the kitchen and were simultaniously gnawing at my frosting caked pants. Really, thanks guys. There's nothing like tediously frosting a miniature house while two dogs (recently diagnosed with canine OCD no less...don't ask) gnaw at your legs like coyotes. My house looked fantastic once it was through. Classy, by no means ostentatious, New England simplicity at it's finest. I set it on a high counter and went to wash my dishes off. I heard the tell tale *THUMP* of Brodie hopping onto a counter and turned around just in time to see him selecting a gummy tree off of the house and making off with it. I honestly would have preferred for him to have destroyed the whole thing and made for a funny story rather than have messed with my perfect design and left me unable to fix it. Damn dog. He'll be getting far less tummy rubs tomorrow (that's a lie, I intend to spend all of tomorrow on the sofa rubbing that little guy's fat tummy. Ah home, life is good here). I quickly moved my house up to my room where it is proudly displayed on my trophy shelf. On the scale of Christmas fun I rate it far less enjoyable than paper crafting but more enjoyable than washing the dishes after Christmas dinner. I had such high hopes for this project as well.

Front View

Back View

Side View

The house and my trophy shelf marking my achievements in the Lawrence Township Recreational Sports Leagues. All of these are "participant" 

While we're on this tour of my room I should mention that my mom has labeled my drawers with what clothing goes where. I make it my mission to purposefully put the wrong clothes in the wrong drawers. Actually I make it my mission to never put my clothes away period. And yes, that is a Good Charlotte CD on my desk, I haven't really touched my room since high school, I like the authenticity of it. When it becomes a museum one day, people can see that I lacked the ability to perform everyday tasks by myself and enjoyed crappy bands. I'm not proud of it, but it should be documented. 

Being home has been great so far. I slept until 11 today. I woke up and thought that it was 6 in the morning so I sat in my bed silently for an hour because I didn't want to wake the dogs up. When I finally got up and saw that it was 11 in the morning I felt a bit dumb, but then I realized that I had just slept for 11 hours and felt fantastic. Spent most of today watching football. When football was over we watched more football. I think tonight we're going to watch football. I have to get my head in the game and get Christmas presents going. I realized that shouting "I HAD A THESIS" on Christmas morning won't make up for not getting presents for the family. You can be assured, however, that I am not buying presents. I realized last year that when you make peoples gifts you get the added bonus of hilarity as they try and figure out what it is. We'll be doing that again this year. My family is now on guard because they realize they're my sole contacts over break, so anything they do could end up on here. This is going to be fun. 

What happened/What I wish had happend

And I'm done! I handed in my thesis yesterday to little fanfare. When I called my mom she asked if there had been cake and balloons or people cheering when I handed it in. No, no there were not. There was a secretary who pointed at a box and said "have a good break". After she asked me that, however, I started to wonder why there hadn't been balloons and cake. I mean, is that so much to ask? After the success of What I said/what I wish I had said, I decided to continue the tradition with What I wish had happened/what happened.

What I wish had happened:

Scene: Guild computer lab, 4:00 PM, Thursday afternoon. Marianna sits at her computer and nervously presses the print button. All of a sudden the lights dim and a hush goes over the crowd. A smartly dressed man appears in a soft pool of light and announces into their microphone 

"Ladies and....ladies, I have a very important announcement, Mrrr Bah-Oh-Christ will now be printing her thesis". 

Murmurs of awe spread through the crowd as everyone rises to crowd around the printer. I take center stage with a big smile on my face. Someone has given me roses and a sash that reads "I finished my thesis". As each page comes out the smartly dressed man announces the page total over his microphone.

"1....4....19.....24"

The crowd grows excited with the rising page count, just when they think it's reached the end another page comes out

"30....37....42..."

One freshman faints, having killed herself all week trying to eek out a 5 page CSEM paper. How little she knows about the pain the next four years will bring.

"45.....48....annnnd...53! 53 pages everyone, we have a 53 pager"

A cheer goes up. Someone in the corner angrily shouts

"So what! My thesis will be 70 pages"

Eh, it's Bryn Mawr, someone's always going to one up you. I can deal. My thesis is carefully removed from the printer. The smartly dressed man carefully packages it in an acceptable fashion, binding the pages with threads of gold. He then carefully inspects it before thrusting it into the air a la Simba in the Lion King and pronounces it "brilliant". It is handed to me and I am escorted out of the computer lab. A horse drawn carriage draped in flowers and silk waits outside. I am helped into the carriage and we jauntily make our way over Thomas Great Hall. There I descend the front stairs, surrounded on both sides by the entire student body of underclassmen. They lead me to the cities office where I am greeted by famous and important people (Nelson Mandela comes to mind right now) all who want to shake my hand and arrange for lunch dates to discuss my ground breaking ideas. The line ends at the Cities office where I enter to find the room filled floor to ceiling with balloons. After presenting my thesis to the Queen of England I am invited to eat as much Bakery House cake and drink as much champagne as I can handle. 

What a great day!

What actually happened?

I press print, I go to get my paper, have to wait forever because someone is printing out a book. And actual book. She had scanned a book into a computer and was now printing out each page...single sided. I was appalled. She wasn't even doing the "I'm sorry, this is awkward" shuffle that you're supposed to do when you print out too many pages. Finally her book ends and I see the first page of my thesis. That's all I see because the printer had run out of effing paper. I nearly punched the sophomore standing next to me. I apologize. So I go and get the paper replaced and print again. After getting my two copies I hold them for a minute and smile. A face pops up over the divider between the printers and computers. I scream. The face says, with a perfectly straight face, "Is that your thesis....congratulations" before popping back down. I stand in shock for a minute before replying, "Thank you!". That was awfully nice of her...if creepy. I wish I knew who she was. I carefully make sure that all pages are straight before walking to my room to put it in it's special folder. The three minute walk between the lab and the dorm was the longest walk of my life. I was aware of every uneven ground, every puddle, every place that looked like solid ground but was actually a secret mud pit, I saw it all. I finally made it to my room where I bound my thesis into its strange folder clip thing that I had been given. It looked pretty, it looked REALLY pretty. I needed to find a way to put the other copy together so I went to the library to consult my friend who I knew was still writing hers. Alright, fine, I wanted to brag. I show it off and people oo and ahh. It was a good feeling. My friend gives me a big binder clip to keep it together, apparently this is what we had been told to do (who pays attention in class? Not me.) I climb the stairs out of the library and into Thomas, up to the second floor. It was 4:30 at this point, most of the professors had gone home, if they had even come to work at all. The hallway lights were off, the only light coming in the windows from the setting sun. I stared down the long hallway that led to the office. This hallway looked right out of a movie about college in the old days. It just screams academia. No one was around so I decided to strut my way to the office, the theme song from Chariots of Fire playing in my head. As I turned into the office I announced "I HAVE A THESIS TO TURN IN!" and held my head up high. The secretary looked up and said "Thats good, put it in that box and sign your name, have a good holiday". 

Anti-climactic, but still fantastic.

Documentary Night! Finals Edition!

Finals don't stop us from holding docu-night! A quick update, my thesis is excruciatingly close to being done. I'm running out of time and all that's left are the details that if I don't fix them they'll haunt me for the rest of my life. I just can't let it go. I'm turning it in tomorrow and there might be some post-partum depression. That will be taken care of by some post-partum drinkin'!!

Anyway, small numbers tonight, but we were still able to crank out a documentary night. As always, here's what happened.

Tonight's feature is American Teen, a movie that follows high schoolers around during their senior year of high school...because that's never been done before. Some things you should know before we begin: I enjoyed high school, Nicky hated high school, Ari and Paige fall somewhere in between. 

11:00-Starting late this week. Paige just hurt herself, that was funny

11:08-Paige isn't ready, she blames finals....then admits she was just watching Watch Instantly on Netflix all week. We will be watching American Teen, a movie about 4 teenagers in Indiana. We have obtained this DVD through completely legal means. Don't ask questions.

11:09-

Ari: Who wants to get drunk tomorrow night 

Nicky: I would love to...but I don't know about the aphids

11:10-one minute in and the passive aggressive bitterness has already started

11:11-Paige: there is one really attractive guy in this film.

-People Paige also finds attractive: Ben Kingsley, the Pregnant Man

11:13-ok, the kid Paige thinks is cute is actually cute

11:15-Aw, the basketball guy is cute...in a Michael Phelps way

11:18-Nerd guy: I play video games because then you always get the girl in them

11:19-Ari: That's a lie...we've watched a whole movie on this subject...it's INCREDIBLY hard to get the girl!

11:20-and the mandatory crazy old lady appearance

11:24-OH SNAP! Girls boyfriend broke up with him. So she calls her gay best friend. 

11:26-Ohhhh the awkwardness!

11:37-Nicky: And THATS why you don't send naked pictures to people

11:39-Aw basketball boy's dad is an Elvis impersonator that performs for weddings

11:43-Oh jeez, basketball boy has a bad game and now he's all upset. I can't handle this.

11:46-

Ari: Fun fact, my high school is the most filmed high school in the country 

Paige: Fun fact, my high school had no walls 

Nicky: Fun fact, Elliot Fisk, classical guitarist, went to my school 

Me: Fun fact, My high school has 127 million dollars. 

*silence* 

Nicky: Fuck you, Marianna

11:48-And we meet the "marching band stud"

11:50-Ari: This is a really awkward version of Swimfan

11:55-Seriously, do these people not know they're being filmed? 

11:57-"This could have been a felony" hey, you know who else committed a felony? Paige.

11:59-Oh god, another basketball game. I can't take these. AHHHH! 

12:02-The fact that I didn't truly discover alcohol until college makes me angry. High school could have been so much fun drunk. At least that's what these kids are making me think. Apparently you also get the hottie if you're drunk in high school. Mother of!

12:08-Uh oh, popular people

12:10-Nicky: Screw you Marianna! 

We should really stop playing "how does this movie compare to my high school"...but it's too fun to make Nicky angry

12:13-Ari's a douche

12:16-And the bitchy girl gets into Notre Dame. Hooray, being a bitch leads to good things

12:21-Ahhh, awkwardness, awkwardness

12:23-Oh MItch, oh no, don't break up with her via text message, no...DAMMIT!

12:24-oh god, more basketball. My heart can't take it

12:26-Basketball boy scores the winning basket in the sectional (whatever that means). I tear up a little. Paige makes fun of me. Excuse me for having feelings

12:28-Seriously, alcohol in high school is incredible! Why was I not on this bandwagon

12:32-Poorly staged slaps...and a coup is being planned'

12:34-oh lordy, the geeky kid loves taxidermy. Excellent plot twist

12:36-We're (well, I'm) debating whether the grandmother and her friend are lesbian lovers

12:37-oh. Mitch is elected prom king. dammit.

12:39-Paige is laughing at the mentally imbalanced. She, like Ari, is a douche.

12:40-Best four day weekend...ever.

12:41-"As you sit here and take in your final oder of your senior class"-um, great graduation speech?

12:42-Nicky rants about high school, I go for one final dig "I enjoyed high school!" Nicky: You know what! You were allowed outside! FUCK YOU!

12:44-Everyone heads off to college....how sweet

12:45-Paige: Stay seated! There's an epilogue!

12:46-Collin (basketball boy) says he is single and that needs to change. I'm sending in my application. Aw, Mitch, I liked him too, even though he was a jerk, he says he's matured. Hannah's now in NYC, apparently at Paiges old school. Paige should have stayed there, saved us all the embarrassment of being friends with someone who committed a felony.

12:48: Discussion. Nicky: Kinda reminded me of high school except it seemed better than my high school

In the final stretch, let's all get our heads in the game and push on through. I can do this.

What I said/what I wish I had said

I'm "proctoring" exams right now. Bryn Mawr uses the word proctor differently than most colleges. Usually a proctor is someone who polices the exam room keeping an eye out for cheaters. Here the proctors main duty is to direct people to the bathroom or call the nurse if they get sick. It's a great study opportunity, although thats not working out for me right now as I'm on exam return duty...and the renaissance choir has decided to practice in the Great Hall. They're lovely, but distracting. ANYWAY! The post-bacs taking their exams crack me up. They want to make sure they do everything right, so they ask a million questions to make sure they don't break the honor code. A lot of them had "honor codes" at their previous colleges that...weren't honor codes at all. I'm going to say this, if someone has to sit in a room and watch you take an exam, then they don't trust  you. Here is an interaction I had with one of them as she was picking up her exam and as she dropped it off. Here is also a conversation I wish I had had with her.

What I said

-Which room do I take this in

-Whichever room you want

-Well which one do you like

-Uhh....Taylor G

-Alright, now how do I get there

-Uhhh.....just go in and sit down somewhere

-But what if I pick the wrong room

-You'll be fine

-Who will collect my test

-Just bring it back here

-Really? I can take it there and bring it back....no one will worry that I cheated?

-Do you plan to cheat during the 100 feet between the buildings?

-NO!

-Well then.

*later on*

 

-My exam was missing the honor pledge, do you have an extra one I can sign?

-What?

-The pledge that I have to sign saying I didn't cheat?

-We trust you

-What?!?!

-Did you cheat?

-NO!

-Well then, can I have your test please

-Let me just take a moment to look it over

-ehh...I'd prefer if you didn't. That's a grey territory of cheating...

What I wish I had said

-Which room do I take this in

-The basement of Erdman

-Well which room do you like?

-Taylor G

-Alright, now how do I get there

-Take the blue bus to Haverford and catch the hot air balloon shuttle to the other side of campus

-But what if I pick the wrong room

-Then I will have no choice but to take you to the honor board

-Who will collect my test

-Public Safety, bring it to their building

-Really? I can just take it there and bring it back....no one will worry that i cheated?

-You seem awfully jumpy for someone who claims they're not going to cheat. You're going to cheat aren't you!

-NO!

-You're going to have to come with me. 

*later on*

-My exam was missing the honor pledge. Do you have an extra one I can sign?

-Oh sweet Jesus why didn't you tell us sooner? You're sure it didn't have a pledge?

-The pledge that I have to sign saying I didn't cheat?

-YES! THAT PLEDGE! Now we have to invalidate all exams being taken right now and start again, we're going to be here until 1 am now.

-What!?!?!?!?

-Are you sure you didn't just throw it out after you cheated? You had guilt issues turning one in  after you had cheated so you threw it away..didn't you!!?!?!?!

-NO!

-Fine, just fill this one out while no one's looking. Quick, quick, quick, I could get fired for this

-Let me just take a moment to look it over

-Oh that's it, let's go, honor board, stat.

Hey there thesis...I'll finish you sooner or later...