Police cite 81 people at underage party near IU -- chicagotribune.com

Police cite 81 people at underage party near IU -- chicagotribune.com

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Now, I could go on a rant about drinking laws in this country...that they are impractical and puritanical, and that the BPD have much better things to do with their time than bust 18-20 year-olds who really aren't causing any trouble, but I won't. I will say, though, that I was one of the 100+ people to get breathalyzed, but I was not one of the 78 minors to get cited. In short...

I am a total badass.

So friends, I have a job now. Yes, a real job! In fact, it's what I've always done, but now I'm paid to do it...I work on the stage crew at the IU MAC.

I love it. It's probably to early to say how I feel about it definitively, but...well, I love it right now.

Everyone I work with is helpful, nice, hilarious...we're all theater people, and as anyone who deals with theater people a lot knows, theaters EVERYWHERE attract the same types of people. Opera houses are no different.

I bitch and moan about going to work early in the morning, and giving up weekends, but secretly, there's little else I'd rather do.

If you find yourself in the Bloomington area some weekend soon and feel the need to absorb some high-falutin' culture, this weekend is the Fall Ballet and then two weeks later is Romeo and Juliet.

Youtube continues to make life worth living.

So, I watch "Weeds." I really liked it for about three seasons, but, for me, it has jumped the shark. Not in a terribly humiliating way, but enough for me to be disappointed.

Their biggest mistake was in changing the location. Having Nancy in the suburbs was central to the show. It was satire on upper-class, suburban life. It has now turned into a show about putting all the characters through crazy situations to see what they will do next. I'm really unhappy with the character development this season. Nancy has given up almost all pretense of being a concerned mother (she gets upset when the lives of her children are threatened, but that seems to be the extent of her maternal instinct). Shane has turned completely emo - he even tries to make his pain sound poetic. Doug, who was once a lovable screw-up, has turned into an annoying, asshole screw-up. Back when the racial insensitivity, drug-use, and general crassness were occasional, I liked Doug and thought he was funny. Now he's just sad.

I do like the way they've dealt with Silas. In fact, I thought it was kind of cool how they matured him at the same time they made Shane the problem-child. I like that Silas is trying to start his own legal business and that he is becoming the voice of reason. I also still like Andy. Not the whole business of him being in love with Nancy (Sidenote: The writers had to take a beautiful, platonic friendship between a straight man and an unrelated, straight woman and inject some sexual tension into it. That makes me angry; how often do you see friendships like that that work and don't have the sexual tension? I loved that the writers were not taking that very obvious route, but no longer. Just because two straight people of the opposite sex are friends does NOT mean that they want to, or inevitably are going to jump each other!), but I like that they have stayed true to the concept of his character. He's another lovable screw-up, but he always had more substance than Doug. And now he wants to do something with his life. Kudos, Andy!

The thing that bothers me most, though, is the part of the show that is hitting too close to home for me. Nancy has started a relationship with Esteban, a Mexican drug lord/politician. First of all, I don't see why they are in love and it feels like a telling and not showing thing to me, but it really bothers me that Nancy has gone off and remarried. For anyone who doesn't watch the show, Nancy's husband, Judah, died just before the events of the show. He's never mentioned anymore. Andy is his brother, and he doesn't even mention him. It's like he doesn't matter to Nancy, Andy, or the boys at all. And now she has a new husband who she presumably loves; the boys have a step-father and Nancy no longer has any formal relationship with Andy (if brother/sister-in-law is considered formal...) I just don't understand how they can all be so comfortable with ignoring their former lives. I hate Nancy for that more than anything else.

Forget Michael Jackson...

Two magnificent men of words died this weekend: Walter Cronkite (November 4th, 1916 - July 17th, 2009) and Frank McCourt (August 19th, 1930 - July 19th, 2009).

Okay Rachel, I'll play.

So, Rachel did her own Hot 50 list and dared her fellow bloggers to do their own. Here's my Foxy 15 list.


Oh, those Tams.


1. Sean Maher



















2. Summer Glau
























3. Mary Louise Parker























4. Jim Sturgess























5. Anton Yelchin






















6. Romany Malco













7. David Tennant

















8. John Slattery





















9. Marjorie Conrad























10. Richard Hammond














11. Rufus Wainwright


















12. Christopher Eccleston






















13. Alan Rickman (Just to qualify, he isn't really one of the fifteen foxiest looking people I could think of, but good god, that voice.)



















14. Jerry Orbach
















15. Sam Waterston


















I don't know what it says about me that I have so many significantly older guys on this list.

Least appropriate wedding songs

Go.

I think I've realized that I don't really believe in remarriage. This is probably a horrible thing to say, especially since I'm saying it about my widowed father. I just don't understand how he can ever love someone as much as he loved my mom. He was barely 23 when they married and 49 when she died. They went through so much together. I don't think that he would be betraying my mom in any way if he does remarry, I just don't understand how he could possibly want to marry anyone else.

PS. I like my dad's girlfriend. She's really nice.
PPS. Sorry all of my non-frivolous posts have to do with my mom and her deadness.

Your results:
You are Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic)

Dr. Simon Tam (Ship Medic) 80% Kaylee Frye (Ship Mechanic) 60% Malcolm Reynolds (Captain) 55% Zoe Washburne (Second-in-command) 50% River (Stowaway) 50% Inara Serra (Companion) 45% Derrial Book (Shepherd) 40% Wash (Ship Pilot) 35% Jayne Cobb (Mercenary) 25% Alliance 25% A Reaver (Cannibal) 20%

Medicine and physical healing are your game, but wooing women isn't a strong suit.

Click here to take the Serenity Firefly Personality Test

My roommate and I are in different colleges within our university FINAL DAY

Last full day with SoI roommate. Have hope that I will make it out alive. Will not let guard down, however.

Well, it's been a good year. I had fun, I worked hard, and I survived the communal bathroom. All in all, I'd say freshman year was a success.

If Atheists Ruled the World

Enjoy. I know I did.

EDIT: I do recommend reading fstdt.com, but be careful, don't over-do it, or you may just lose all faith in humanity.

Honestly, reading those quotes almost makes me doubt evolution a little...I would have thought that natural selection would have eliminated such stupid, ignorant people.

So, friends, I have declared a second major.

I am now in the Psych BA program and the Borns Jewish Studies program here at sunny IU Bloomington. I am also working on minors in history and theater.


I plan to be very busy from now until forever.

Right now, I'm existing in a constant state of being stressed out, even though I have very little to actually stress about. And I'm tired. All the time.


I think they call it college.

Polly Walker as Atia of the Julii from HBO's "Rome" is a badass.



Thank you.

PS. I just found out a few posts ago how to upload videos, so I'm just playing with my new toy here.

Prop 8 the musical

The video doesn't fit onto this page, so I linked to it instead.

I love Neil Patrick Harris.

My roommate and I are in different colleges within our university DAY 8

Have shared with roommate fascination with lying and deception. Fear that I am becoming the villain of my own life accounts. Roommate expresses interest in acquiring weapons. Perhaps I am not the villainous one.

This week in pictures

I love and dread this time of year.

I love it because the weather is getting warmer, the air smells like spring, the sun has reappeared, and there's a general feeling of relief everywhere (at least I think so).

I dread it because I can't concentrate (for instance: I have a midterm paper due tomorrow and another on Friday and I haven't started either of them), and because it makes me think of what I was doing this time two years go. Jesus, it's been two years already and I still want to call her up and tell her about my day. I think, about this time, I was teching Merchant at First Pres., and I must have had a lot of work for school because I remember being really busy. I remember thinking that Monday, March 5th was going to be my "day-off." I get a little moody and sad around this time of year - I watch dumbo a lot and think about her for no reason. Everyday up to the week of her death and funeral was sunny and (weather-wise) pleasant. That week got cloudy and rainy, and I loved it. It would have really pissed me off if the weather was nice that week. Note to self: next time I have to help plan a funeral, make sure to plan for a day when it rains.

I'm doing this thing where I'm trying to forgive my mom for all of the stupid, petty, infuriating things she did. It's hard, because that seems to be all we can talk about at home. Not that I want to dismiss or forget those things, but what we're doing right now is just as inaccurate and unfair as canonizing her memory would be. I guess we always wanted to say those things to her face, but we were too scared, so now we just can't help ourselves. And I want to stop doing that. I don't want to wake up one morning and not remember why I loved my mother. That's why that scene in dumbo makes me cry - it reminds me of everything I loved and miss about her. Maybe we talk about what pissed us off about her because it's easier than having to accept the fact that someone we loved and who loved us is no more. I don't care if it's easier, I don't want to be mad at her anymore.

My roommate and I are in different colleges within our university DAY 2

Awoke this morning (later than usual) pleased to find that roommate had not killed me in the night. She said that people in the College of Arts and Sciences (hereafter: CoAS) cannot be trusted and made sound effect of dramatic music upon my entrance to the room. Cannot help but think that it is she who cannot be trusted.

My roommate and I are in different colleges within our university DAY 1

I transferred into the College of Arts and Sciences; she to the School of Informatics. She supposes that we will still be friends - I have my doubts.

I think this little dude is what is missing from my life. If I could get the animation to come with it, then surely I would want for nothing.

Mmm, sleep. I love sleep. It makes me very happy. And very grouchy when I don't get enough or when I am woken up unexpectedly. Imagine just how grouchy I was this morning at 3:45 when the fire alarm went off. Everyone in Forest B-Tower had to evacuate the building, into the snow, and stand around in the bitterly cold 11 degree weather. My roommate, my next-door neighbor, and I all made it out in leggings and our coats. Karys had boots; my neighbor and I had rather flimsy slip-ons. Some people had blankets wrapped around themselves, some people were fully dressed, and I swore I saw someone in a bathrobe and no shoes. I have never been so cold in my life. I was so cold that it actually hurt. We stood outside for about half an hour, waiting for the Bloomington fire department to check for any actual fire. Turns out, this wasn't a drill - someone on the eleventh floor smelled smoke. There wasn't really a fire, and we got to go back inside. I curled up under my blankets, and didn't feel warm again for what felt like an hour.

Moral of the story: Worst. Morning. Ever.

Commenting on flair is just my thing now...since I can't do it on facebook, I have to do it here.

The creator of this flair just didn't get it. It goes, "If you don't stand behind our troops, feel free to stand in front of them." It's a play on words and double meanings, commonly called a "pun" or "joke."

Just to break from the rather gloomy and cynical mood of my blog, I thought I'd share this little revelation I just had.

I have a pretty good life. It's not perfect and I can think of a few big things I'd change, but overall, I'm doing well. I'm in college at a neat place, I have lots of friends, both old and new, and my family pretty much rocks. So, yeah, not perfect, but on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give myself a 7 right now.

I posted this on facebook the night after the election...

There are so many people who deserve thanks for pouring their hearts and souls into Barack Obama's presidential campaign, and I hope all of them are having a really good day.

But most of all, thank YOU, American voters, for not fucking this one up.

Special thanks to CaptainOT at A Christmas Yuleblog...I really liked your comment on my last post, Captain.

This post is kind of depressing and personal, but it's my damn blog

I was just thinking about this while I was walking back to my dorm after picking up some food from Read...

For almost two years, I've sort of thought that my mom's death hadn't changed me at all. I still felt like I was more or less the same, except for the obvious lack of a mother. And once the initial shock and grief wore off, I thought I was pretty much back to normal. In fact, I still think I'm mostly normal, but I finally realized that I'm not exactly the same as I used to be.

Before she died, I always felt that I could talk to anyone about anything that was bothering me, or was important to me, or whatever. I did, too. Usually, I said just about anything that was on my mind, barring the indecently rude or eccentric thoughts that I like to believe everyone has occasionally. Now, I censor myself almost constantly. Because, as I already said in a previous post, my situation makes other people uncomfortable, and I'm pretty aware of that. But I don't just censor myself about my mother. I don't like to talk much because I assume that other people will think I'm boring, or inconsequential, or whiny, or just plain old stupid. Maybe I always thought like this and since I got to college the problem is more pronounced, so I'm blaming it on my mom. Maybe this does have to do with her death - after all, it's not unheard of for the death of a loved one to have lasting effects on a person. Maybe I'm just a little shy and blowing it out of proportion and I need to stop psychoanalyzing myself. Maybe I was rude and far too forthcoming before all this and I'm now acting normal. Maybe I need to find a new way to start my sentences.

In any case, I only have a few people to whom I can talk freely - mostly my family and a couple of friends. Even the title of this post is defensive because I feel like I need to preface this with some kind of disclaimer that I'm about to say something emotional. And I can't bring myself to delete it because I can't get over the feeling that to not inform who ever reads this of what they're getting into is rude of me.

For everyone I've met in the last two years, I wasn't like this before...at least, not that I can remember.

Found this and the segment about what people say after a death is so true that I had to post it. I think I had similar thoughts when people said the ever so stupid, "If there's anything I can do..."

I love you, George Carlin.