Call it H Ween if you nasty

Ryan is the dead hooker to my truck driver. It was really obscene, realistic, awesome, and unique. I tied rope around his wrists and ankles and smeared fake blood all over his face and neck. The bruises look real but they're in fact Estee Lauder. He covered his head with glitter hair spray (indoors! we were almost asphyxiated) and I drew on a mustache and beard with brown eye liner. The condom I stapled to the back of his shirt was especially classy. As you can see, the purple soft ball shorts fit like a glove. I'm giving Meredith the jacket. She fell in love with it. I'm not sure why. In Grinnell, you celebrate Halloween the Saturday before the event. The most popular costume this year was easily "Flava Flav." Dead Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin was the second most common/distasteful. Actually, Adam dressed up as a blind man. That was really offensive.

Our pumpkins turned out really well too. I carved a vagina and a scary face and Ryan carved a penis and a scary face (not pictured.) I've had several people come up to me asking if that's actually what my vagina looks like. It was really hard to work all the layers in- it's not a good "stand alone" piece but with the other pumpkin, it makes perfect sense.

This one goes out to Shortauntiej

Last night, Ryan and I borrowed Christena's car and drove out to Carroll's Pumpkin Farm. It was the first time either of us had driven in two months. I picked two pumpkins from the actual patch that were both 15 lbs. Carving will commence in approximately 45 minutes. I stupidly wore my red Danskos. They are still covered in mud and rotten pumpkin. Mrs. Carroll let me wash my hands in the sink of the concession stand- the store is really cute and the farm has a ton of scarecrows with pumpkins for heads depicting various popular characters like Spiderman and Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean. It's like the Disneyland of pumpkin farms. We were really pleased with ourselves for making the effort to buy local until Anna freaked out on us at dinner. Danny Carroll is the Republican candidate running for State Representative. He's against stem cell research, same sex marriage, and freedom and we just contributed 20 pumpkin dollars towards his campaign. Damn. We don't regret our trip, however, because it was such an important mid-western experience. He's probably going to win though. People LOVE Danny Carroll around these parts.

While we were out, we stopped by Hyvee for tube rolls and brownies, our contribution to family dinner on our floor. Christena invited Ryan and me to dinner when we picked up the keys to her car. She LOVES to cook and sew and make art and watch movies. She's one of my favorite people on the floor. We had chicken and corn and mashed potatoes and rolls with Meredith's low sodium salt; Britt did the dishes. I'm bringing cooking supplies when I come back from winter break so I can be more domestic.

Ryan and I figured out our Halloween costumes. Initially, I thought it would be really awesome if I went as a sperm and he went as an egg. He wasn't into it. So last night at Goodwill, I decided that I would be a truck driver, inspired by this really awesome jacket I found on the costume rack. Then, Ryan found these really hideous purple short shorts. He's going to be my dead hooker!!! It's going to be sweet. We bought ropes and fake blood at Wal-Mart last night (we hit Carroll's Hate Farm and Wal-"We don't DO Unions"-Mart on the SAME night) and we're both going to wear the work boots we bought for NOLA.

Kathleen is getting a Little Sister from Grinnell. She passed the interview that the organization insisted be held in our room this afternoon. We did a bit of cleaning last night in preparation. My side was wholesome for approximately 14 hours.

This evening's itinerary:
1) Pumpkin carving
2) Dinner
3) Saw II (Ryan bought it last night at Big WM)
4) Saw III premier at the Strand Theatre downtown
5) Other things until 2 AM probably

Auntie Joanie! I got the package. It is incredible. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!!! Needless to say, the candy is gone, the window clings are up, and half of the people on my floor think you're really rad because you sent what they believe to be "Vampire Porn" (the Hanson card has helped too.) I painted a pumpkin on my window with the markers and I hung up the glow-in-the-dark skeleton right away using a piece of yarn with a condom attached to the end of it from a dance party I went to at the beginning of the year called Red Light, Green Light. We will go to New Orleans together some day. I think we would have a really good time being obscene and obnoxious. I'm finally old enough to be a cool niece. YAY!

Sex Toy Raffle

This is how I feel about spending my Thanksgiving at Grinnell with all the international students who can't make it home either. My cousins, Kavik and Kira will be taking my place this year at Thanksgiving in Bellingham.

I've been talking to Kavik and Kira online pretty regularly. Yes, I understand Kavik is an unusual name. I decided to post this message because I just remembered that they will be at my house, sleeping in my bed, and eating my turkey this Thanksgiving. Kavik is a freshman at Seattle University and Aunt Jane and Kira are flying from Pennsylvania to eat with my fam. I want to come home for Thanksgiving. Probably don't tell my parents. They can find out when they read this.

Professor Alfonso handed back our midterms plus another essay she's been grading for the last three weeks in class today. I did pretty well. I'm convinced, however, she didn't actually read the papers because as I was rereading my work, I came across whole sentences that made absolutely no sense. I know she can read because every class, she summarizes the readings from the night before for 50 minutes solid. Good news everyone, Alfonso resigned and she's getting the hell out of my life. I wrapped up Newspaper stuff pretty early tonight. David puts his iTunes on shuffle every week and it managed to catch every song by U2 twice. I made sure to add all the "Love Your Body Week" events in the News calendar, including the girls-only masturbation workshop being held in the lounge of my dorm at 8 P.M., Tuesday. They're raffling off sex toys. I'm beside myself.

Next semester, I'm switching meal plans. I really only eat 14 meals per week. I also want to take a sculpting class. I can't believe we register for classes in two weeks. Well, kind of I can.
I have a lot of crap on my bed right now. I think I'll just lay on top/around it when I go to sleep in 30 seconds.

A Collection of Photographs from NOLA

Our accommodations at St. Luke's Episcopal Church: all 30 of us had a cot with a large foam pad to sleep on.

This house is a really typical one. It has structural damage and a "bath tub ring" at about 4 feet. The contents of this home had already been removed


The Lower Ninth Ward. This person had neighbors before the levee failed.

Jessica, Fai, Margie, and Neo in the Liplander during a rainstorm in the French Quarter. The "U" and the "P" in the Chevy Uplander looked like "LIP" at the right angle. Adam tried and failed to nickname the van "Rex."

This is the Jazz Band that played for us at the community meal. The trombone player on the end was especially passionate and I liked how the man with the clarinet wasn't wearing socks.

Fai, Erin, Anna, Rachel, and Margie at Joey T's on our last night. I had the Jambalaya.

We were not permitted to take pictures of the houses we gutted. The organization enforces this rule as a means to protect the anonymity of the homeowner.

Posted Tuesday, October 24, 2006

I've been home for a few days now and I'm starting to remember my routine. I didn't expect the readjustment process to take so long. I miss NOLA and I miss singing and laughing with Neo, Erin, Evan, Fai, Jessica, Rachel, Ryan, Adam, and Anna. We all decided that we would remain friends when we returned to Grinnell- as we engage in half-ass conversations with people who can't even begin to understand what we saw, what we did, and who we met, it's been great to know there are nine others that are feeling just as out of place. Last night we had a Red Beans & Rice dinner with about 20 of the NOLA Alt Breakers. Kathleen thinks I'm obsessed with the stuff. Becca and Maggie's recipe was spicy and delicious and I burned everyone CDs of all the inappropriate songs we sang rolling in our white Chevy Impala. I bought a vanilla air freshener for the car at a gas station mid-week to mask the dead animal smell we tracked in from the refrigerators we pulled from the homes we gutted. When she returned it on Saturday morning, Rachel decided to leave it in to make up for all the water bottles, masks, and contaminated work gloves we left in the back seat. I loved that car. Holla.

We worked on four houses throughout the week, all of which were in different neighborhoods that sustained varying degrees of wind and water damage. Several of the homes we were assigned had already been touched by local volunteers (the homeowners of the homes that we gutted did not have the financial means to hire a professional crew. The cost of gutting is typcially $3,000-$4,000 depending on the size of the home.) The home we worked on on Monday was significantly less taxing than the homes we tackled the remainder of the week.

Tuesday we were assigned a duplex full of contents including a handful of storage containers filled to the brim with "Katrina Gumbo"- a combination of water from the storm, roaches, personal items, and sewage. The homeowners had yet to return to their property so we were especially concerned with preserving the photos and dishware we found buried under piles of crap and structural debris. The difference between the organization we worked under and a professional gutting company is that our primary concern is the homeowner. Professional teams don't get payed to sort through a stranger's belongings. We found two refrigerators in the duplex. Fortunately, they were both upright. I took one out with a hand truck; Ryan took the other. Thirty minutes later, scavengers with a large pick up truck came by and drove away with both of the units. According to our crew leaders, it's not uncommon for people to come by and sort through and repossess the items pulled from the homes of their neighbors. One can bring in $200-$300 worth of scrap metal on a good day of hunting. We returned to this home several times but we were never able to completely finish the process. Unfortunately, half of the duplex was deemed structurally unsound after the ceiling over the master bedroom buckled in a rainstorm.

We were sent to the home of a retired school teacher on Wednesday; her property is yards away from the "Mr. Go Levee" in the Lower Ninth Ward. When the water finally settled in September, 2005, it did so at just over eight feet. At this home, the fridge was not upright; the smell of an overturned fridge is was like nothing I've ever smelled before. Adam threw up in his mask last summer when the volunteer crew he worked with mistakedly opened the fridge door. 13 month old milk, cheese, meat, and eggs oozes out in green liquid form. When we entered, the ceilings were on the floor. Under the ceilings was a solid two feet of debris and contents mixed with cracked sheet rock and plaster. The work was hard and we were only permitted to stay until noon because our crew chief didn't trust the roof. Anna, who worked for two months last summer with the organization, said this home had some of the worst structural damage she had ever seen.

The remainder of our week was spent at Ms. Holmes house in the Lakewood neighborhood. Since April, she has lived in a FEMA trailer next to her home and for the last six months, she has been sifting through the debris in her house without a mask in search of salvageable items. In a day and a half, we were able to finish her home and during lunch on Friday, she told us her evacuation story over a roast beef Po Boy. Our garbage pile after just two days was 15 feet across, four feet high, and almost thirty feet long. Ms. Holmes plans to rebuild. We found termite damage and black mold in almost every room (plus an ungodly number of red cockroaches) but still, the neighborhood is all she has known of the city. We watched as Adam walked her through her home at the end of our final workday; she cried throughout the entire walk through. Ms. Holmes will begin another phase of reconstruction when she has the money to hire a contractor. She's been stuck in the same rut for over a year and we helped to pull her out.

The city looks like a war zone. There's not much more I can say about its physical state. It will take five to 10 years for the city to truly function again. Fifty percent of its residents have yet to return.

New Orleans is an incredible place, though. We visited the French Quarter several times- Cafe Du Monde/beignets twice- and listened to a mediocre talk about Displaced Populations at Tulane University. On Thursday night, we attended a community meal the Episcopal church prepares for its gutting volunteers. They bring in a jazz band every week to entertain patrons- this week's was pulled straight from Frenchman Street (we visited a few jazz clubs on Frenchman our first night in town.) After the dinner, we stopped in front of the Real World New Olrean's Mansion on St. Charles. Robbs hooked us up with the address. Ryan and I were beside ourselves. He basically wept as I took his picture in front of the Belfort. Bourbon Street was insane- so many middle aged white women and men doing incredibly embarrassing things. I saw one pair of breasts and two penises. One of the greatest parts of the trip for me was just driving around the city. Adam and Anna made sure we saw it all; the areas hit hardest and the ones barely touched physically by TFW (Initially, search teams were instructed to spray the acronym, which stands for Toxic Flood Water, on the sides of homes flooded with the most hazardous waste.)

I'm looking forward to returning next year, probably next summer. I would like to get a group of friends from home to come down with me. I can think of a handful that would be into it and then there's Kari who would be an excellent waterbottle filler.

On a lighter note: Spanish kicked my ass and Professor Purcell can't seem to get past my "grandiose prose." I still maintain that my diction and sentence structure make for a more interesting read. I have a five pager due tomorrow and a few papers due next week. I would also like a new winter vest. I think I'm going to order my Land's End winter gear this afternoon. It's only getting colder here. I bowled a 569 series last night. Two games I scored above 200. Lynn still calls me Margo because he says it saves him time. The pre-shot cheer is already included in the name- Mar(gie)-Go. He's belligerent.

Carroll's Pumpkin farm this week. WHAT AM I GOING TO BE FOR HALLOWEEEEEEEN?!

The Lakes Of Pontchartrain

I survived all my finals. I wrote and revised a total of eight essays last week, I gave a gripping presentation on Robert Noyce and the Robert Noyce '25 Science Center, and I failed a Spanish test. I know what you're thinking and I'm almost positive I failed. Like, I hope I score in the two digits. Kathleen gave me some really sound advice the night before all of my stuff was due and I was lying in the hall ass up in obscure Spanish grammar: "It's not worth it; don't kill yourself for this." Then Noah came out and asked me if he could barrow my calculator. Of course I said yes because he's a cool dude. I jumped up off the ground, sprinted into my room, tore through the piles of crap on my desk, woke up Kathleen, found it, and ran back to the hall where I made the hand off. The Calc was out of AAA batteries. I'm pretty sure I haven't fired it up since May, 2006.

I'm in New Orleans now with finals behind me. Here's a really brief play by play of my life since Friday at 4:05 because the wireless is shaky and I'm on the porch in the rain in a sketchy neighborhood.

4:05 PM - Turn in my final paper for tutorial.
4:06- Receive a call from Kathleen- who has already left for Denver- asking me to unlock the door to our room because she forgot her towel and pillow.
4:07- Throw the keys up the fire escape. She catches them and leaves for Denver.
4:19- Run to Norris so Ryan can pick up his check to take to the bank.
4:20- Receive a second call from Kathleen. She needs her cell phone charger.
4:45- Visit Wells Fargo and Saints Rest. Wells Fargo is where all the Sub Frees bank.
5:05- Make a Wal-Mart run with Ryan, Carter, and Will.
6:00- Play Skip-Bo with the floor before dinner will Anna finishes a paper.
7:00- Go to Dinner. It was pretty good, I think.
8:00- Start laundry.
8:30- Ryan starts to pack.
9:00- Hang out with the flood- End of Mid Sems FIESTA. AYAYAYA…
1:00 AM- Finish laundry. Naked.
2:30- Shower.
3:00- Power nap.
3:30- Arrive at the wrong bus stop for the Alt Break Departure to NOLA.
3:45- Arrive at correct bus stop. Two very important parts of my body were frozen. They are on me chest.
4:18- Leave Grinnell. One girl is late AND forgets her ID so the bus driver drives twenty miles over the speed limit to make up for lost time. He sighs. I know because I was sitting in front.
5:35- Arrive in Cedar Rapids with plenty of time with “Wide Open Spaces” playing on the radio super loud.

And then a lot of other stuff happened. I snored for a good hour in the airport at Cedar Rapids before our 7:45 flight to Dallas. I think I was trying to sleep off the pain of having to surrender my brand new face wash, toothpaste, and Hemp Lotion from the Body Shop at security. All of the tubes of product that exceeded 3 OZ in volume I was forced to trash. When I asked the Woman Guard if she was “sure I had to leave the lotion,” she said “yeah, I’m sure” and then made a really obnoxious breathing-out noise under her breath. I slept the entire flight. We were so pressed for time in Dallas, we had to sprint up three flights of broken escalator. We made it to the top in exactly the same amount of time as the people who opted for the working escalator. We were big sweaty LOSERS.

The city of New Orleans hit me like a ton of bricks. While the water is gone, every road is covered in gnarly pot holes and homes are still tagged with spray paint from the crews that checked for bodies over thirteen months ago. Every block almost, a car is pulled over with a flat tire. The only thing “new” in New Orleans are the cars because everyone had to replace their vehicles after the storm. Today I saw a FEMA trailer with an Escalade parked right next to it. The distribution of wealth here is unbelievable. All the FEMA trailers are white. They’re issued to whole families for only a year. One block, the houses have two stories and are dressed for Halloween and on the next, they act like garbage cans, holding in crap and mud and debris from the storm. Many of the houses that we've seen from the street have not been touched since the homeowner evacuated. We’re staying in Orleans Parish at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church on 30 cots in the gym. The high school down the street from us is surrounded by police officers and every entrance has a metal detector. Apparently, every class has between 50 and 70 students because they can’t pay the teachers enough to come back and teach in such piss-poor conditions. We hit Bourbon St. our first night in town. To get to the French Quarter (which is incredible and full of life) we had to pass several full blocks of subsidized housing units. The projects are vacant now because the city can’t afford to get them back in order. I don’t know where the 1,000 or so families are now that once lived there. No one seems to know when the city will return to normal. Never, probably. Everything is abandoned and no one has money to rebuild.

The first house we gutted today was fairly easy but we’re only ¾ of the way done. The homeowners had already done a bit of work on the duplex. We met with them and they seemed to think they would be rebuilding within the next year. To gut a house, you have to remove all the contents i.e. refrigerators, photo albums, and left behind clothing then remove the walls including the molding and sheet rock. We ate our PB&J lunch next to Lake Pontchartrain- only a dream of mine since hearing the remix of “The Lakes Of Pontchartrain” by the Be Good Tanyas.

At the end of the day, we popped in the Mix CD our group compiled. I contributed “Jolene” by Dolly Parton. It seems to be growing on everyone. We had red beans and rice for dinner tonight- a Monday night tradition- with the other volunteers from the Episcopal Diocese. It was tasty.

I love it here and I know the city is important to many people but I don’t know if I would have come back to pick my life back up if I had lost my home, my family, and all of my personal belongings. It’s all so daunting. According to our leaders with the Diocese, homeowners are at the stage in the recovery process where they have many good days and only some bad days. I’ve had only good days so far but I’ve been trying to put myself in the place of the people who survived Hurricane Katrina. The houses must look and smell like they did this time last year when all the water started to drain but kids are going to school and new businesses are opening everyday.

I’d like to come back here with my parents and my friends. Only at different times.

No. Sleep. Til NOLA.

Professor Fisher hates freedom.

That's why she assigned four essays for our mid-semester take home final. The best part of the test was the "What's the worst thing you can call a man/woman?" brainstorm. A good time was had by all at the impromptu all-hall brainstorming session. Today in class, Ashley from sub free told us that her friends came up with much "nicer" names. Pssh. Those sub free kids are a HOOT.

I finished what I could of the test at 3:30 this morning then picked it back up again at 6:45. Three hours does not constitute a night of sleep. Three hours is a nap on a Saturday afternoon. I apologize, Kathleen, for keeping you up. Glow of the lap top/frantic typing noise v. Snoring. Hmmmmmmm...

Tonight is my last ReNew Orleans Alternative Break meeting before TAKE OFF. We'll discuss travel plans and go over the week's itinerary. I'll be late and I'm considering not telling anyone and just running in, tears streaming down my face. Bowling is every Monday. I SWEAR I marked off the 7-10 PM time slot when we were scheduling meeting times. I really REALLY need to study. I power napped for 15 minutes in the Fireplace Room before Spanish today. When I arrived in class, I remembered that all of my work was exactly half finished. Ben talked a lot nothing and with many grammatical errors. He's going to get really high marks in participation, though. This irritates me. Instead of participating, I started my Christmas list and brainstromed things I want to do with people I like back in B*Town. IKEA was number one. Coffee and bagel on Rail Road, number two. And eating chips at boulevard Park number three.

I have a two hour long monitor shift in the SRC library today. Last week, when I informed Lester that no one showed up to relieve me at 5:30, I stupidly volunteered to take the second hour. Ryan and I are going to picnic in the library because I have to leave for bowling at 6:30. I'm seriously considering not doing any work until tomorrow and peacing out before midnight this evening.

Professor Alfonso also hates freedom. She assigned 10 essays, five of which will appear on an in class exam. Of the five, we're required to select three "to essay." She wants five paragraphs for each piece. When the assignment first dropped, Jess Cheney tried her best to convince Alfonso that it is almost physically impossible to write 15 coherent paragraphs in a 50 minute class period. She didn't care. We were given the prompts ahead of time for a reason. I'm writing eight and submitting the three strongest that appear on the final cut. By weeks end, I will have written 13 essays, completed an oral presentation on a local monument, and passed(?) a Spanish exam.

Holy crap.

I leave for New Orleans at 3:30 AM this Saturday. In less than 110 hours, I'll be snoring on a plane feeling really good about leaving Grinnell, Iowa behind for a week.

Thomas, the name of a killer

So the Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning was "bull shit" just like my Dad promised it would be. I probably didn't need to "see that piece of shit" (also Dad) but I did and I will never again. Nor will I go to Texas or eat meat or say anything remotely insensitive of someone who has a mental disability who wields a chainsaw because we all know what happened to the last 34 people who couldn't keep their mouths shut.

Here is a brief synopsis. It's 1939 and America has reached the bitter end of the Great Depression. The only industry in a barely-there town in Texas is the meat packing plant. The movie opens with a woman meat packer on the job and pregnant, writhing with labor pains. The boss refuses to let her take a break as her water breaks and she collapses to the floor. She passes out in a massive pile of blood and amniotic fluid as the boss rushes to her side. She dies but the mutant-baby pushes himself free. The boss tosses the baby in the dumpster and a woman eating tossed-aside scraps of meat finds him and takes him home in a piece of meat-packing paper. They call him Thomas and over the course of the opening credits, the audience sees his adopted father "operating" on Thomas' deformed face and Thomas killing animals and making their raw skin into masks. Thirty years later, Thomas' father gets word from the town's last remaining sheriff that the meat packing plant where his son is employed (the same plant where he was born) is closed indefinitely by the health department and that Thomas, in a rage, had massacred the boss in protest. Thomas's father and the sheriff find Thomas on the road, chainsaw in hand. The sheriff hops out of the car and attempts to coax him in to the back. Thomas's father, in defense of his son and his town, grabs the rifle on the sheriff's dash and shoots him point blank in the face. Thomas's father puts on the sheriff's uniform, asks his son to chop up the sheriff, and the family eats him in a bloody stew. Thomas's father is the law now and he insists on being called Sheriff Hoyt.

Meanwhile, two twenty-something couples embark on a road trip to an army base camp from which the two men will be deployed to Vietnam. A run in with a rather large Holstein rolls their jeep during a chase with a rifle wielding motorcycle wench. When "Sheriff Hoyt" enters the scene to inspect the situation, he kills the motorcycle wench, ties up the co-eds in the back of his car, and tortures them at his mansion for a solid 45 minutes of movie. One girl, thrown from the accident, watches the scene from a bush but winds up at the mansion and under the table where her boyfriend is chainsawed. Thomas also rips off his face and wears it as his own. Then, they eat him. During the last three minutes, the last girl alive, determined to avenge the deaths of her friends, winds up at the meat packing plant and escapes in the boss's car. The proper authority in sight, she is sure she's in the clear UNTIL, Thomas pops up in the backseat and runs his chainsaw through the driver's side seat and through her abdomen. It was sick. I knew it was coming. And I screamed bloody murder. The End.

Christian is singing to a symphony orchestra track right now. He has amazing projection.

Uninspired

This week kicked my ass.

You should check out the October 6 issue of the S&B at http://www.grinnell.edu/sandb/index.html. I placed the ads, layed out three pages (the KDIC Radio Schedule and the Double Truck for the JRo Dedication,) I finished two calendars, one movie time box, and a volleyball feature that didn't run. Neo was an hour late for the volleyball interview. None of the pictures were ready for the double truck on Wednesday so I had to spend all day Thursday in the Pubs Room. I couldn't place the Choung Garden ad. They're going to be furious. No room. Sorry, man.

In addition to the S&B stuff, I had a paper due yesterday and a Spanish composition due today. It was the kind of paper that makes you physically ill when I thought about just how unpleasent it's going to be to write. Two of my classes were cancelled this week so I managed to get a solid nine hours of sleep last night. The night before, I crawled in bed at 3:45, woke up (kind of) for the fire alarm at 4:30, woke up to finish a paper at 9:00 and sprinted to the Pubs room at 11:30.

I took an incredible 35 minute power nap in the new Fireplace Room in the JRo yesterday. The Grinnell Singers who were practicing on the second story woke me up with a choral arrangement of the fight song. Think of your worst nightmare, then set it to music with really bad choreography. That's what it was like. The alumni and trustees are visiting this weekend. Today at lunch, this really old woman (class of 1878, probably) with processed white hair sat down at the table next to me. She had a massive corn flake stuck in a curl on top of her head. I didn't have the heart to tell her.

In spite of it all, I managed to shower everyday this week. Tuesday night, though, my toothpaste went missing and I couldn't buy another tube until yesterday afternoon. I would say Thursday morning was one of the lowest points of my semi-adult life. I also got a text from Caitlin saying CatTed had to go to the ER on Wednesday night for an intestinal malfunction of some kind. I talked to CatTed last night after calling St. Joe's to make sure she wasn't admitted. She was doing a lot better.

I MISSED PROJECT RUNWAY. Damn. My first episode of the entire season...

Tonight, the dining hall is only open from 4:30 to 6. Some of us are going to Casa Margarita instead, then to the Strand to see Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning. I will probably piss my pants with fear. Tomorrow night, I'm going to Multi Culti house for a visit. They're a fun bunch. I just remembered I have a take home Sociology exam due on Monday at 8:30. I'm going to go take a nap until bowling class now so I can forget again.

I talked to Kelly, Rachel, and Robbs yesterday online. They must think I'm depressed. I'm not. I swear. But the DVD I borrowed from Molly is missing right now. That's annoying. I may have to go buy another copy and just keep the lost copy when I recover it.

For Rachel: "Da, da weekend, da da da weekend" -Kid Sensation, '91. Live it up, guuuuurl.

Birthday Photo Essay

This is the birthday cake from the Episcopalians. In this picture, the cake is still frozen. Christena (behind Ryan,) Ryan (in the hat,) Carter, and I are lighting the candles on the outside first. The quoteboard in the background has a really awesome picture of the female reproductive system. I like this picture because you can really see how dire the haircut situation is.

Christena, Ryan, and I are finishing up the cake. All the Happy Birthday confetti is everywhere and the Aloha Fiesta party napkins are only half gone. This is just six days before Christena was diagnosed with Mono. She went home to Kansas today to recover.


This is me eating the last piece of cake with out hands. The Minute Made orange juice is contaminated with Mono- so is that elbow.


Thanks, Kathleen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! for the pictures.

What your laundry says about you

I think you have to be Italian to run the espresso machine at the Grille because today, all the espresso beans from the top feeder shot out on to the counter and floor. All the beans on the counter I put back in the machine. All the ones on the floor I managed to step on so they were especially hard to sweep up. New Girl helped me pick them up. Jon, a vegetarian and the Out Takes (bag lunch, to-go) distributor, fetched the broom. Zyme sat around and looked stupid, as per his usual.

My birthday shoes came today!

I love them.

Last night, I bowled the highest game in the house (243) and won the pot on the lane. I'm ahead three dollars. Troy and I both had strong first games (which he attributed to "getting some" last weekend when he visited his girlfriend in Minneapolis) but then bowled pretty poorly on the second and the third. Adam and Anna cancelled the ReNew Orleans meeting and the Red Beans and Rice Dinner that was scheduled for Monday because we all needed a little break. The floor celebrated my birthday again with cake and root beer floats.

I did four loads of laundry last night and had to dry the two loads I put in the dryer twice because they were so dense. A guy from my GWS class was in the laundry room when I headed down to check on round one in the dryer. He was in the process of removing all of my clothes so he could dry his own. My jeans and sweatshirts had been sitting there for 15 minutes tops AND they were still wet. What a tool. I made sure to pay it forward and took some other girl's thongs and workout clothes out of another machine. Based on her laundry, I imagine this girl is probably a huge slut.

My Wednesday AND Thursday 8:30 classes are cancelled- Professor Fisher has to say goodbye to her son in Colorado who leaves for his second tour in Iraq on Friday- so a few of us are going to watch a movie tonight. This weekend, the campus is celebrating 10/10, Payday!!! Depending on who is reading this, I may or may not be participating in the all-campus activities to, as the shirts say, "Fight Sobriety."

All of my professors sign off in emails with "Cheers."

Sick.

From: Christian Conkle [mail to:conklech@grinnell.edu]
Sent: Saturday, September 30, 2006 3:01 AM
To: Brumer, Adam N
Cc: Hinds-Brush, Kimberly
Subject: Loose 2nd bathroom disaster

Somebody has been having serious difficulty with the operation of the toilet. After finding and flushing down some "loose stool" this afternoon, I just found the toilet in 6226H completely full of crap and paper--which clogged the toilet quite dramatically. With Nilesh's help, I managed to get it unclogged and the floor somewhat cleaned up, but that restroom is currently in a very unsanitary state. I also can't think of a way to dispose of the filthy mop water without soiling a sink, so it's sitting outside the custodial closet. This needs to not happen again.

-C

In case you're wondering, this wasn't my fault. I swear to god. Christian lives two doors down from me. He's awake at all hours and listens to classical music because he believes the composers are truly his friends. This is the single greatest email I have EVER read. I managed to read the copy taped to Karen's Custodial Closet and because I found it so amusing, I asked Adam to forward it to me.

Ryan and I made Carter take us to Wal Mart at 12:30 this morning. We bought Pot Pies and toquitos and returned to Loose for a 2 AM study session. Sociology was annoying this morning. I hate everyone in the class except Liza (because she's silent,) Julia (because her attendance is sporadic,) Song (because he's a fourth year Bio Chem major getting in some last minute humanity credits,) Amy, and Ryan. I wish the rest would drop the class. I especially wish Professor Fisher would drop the class. She's a real problem.

I have my first monitor shift in the Stonewall Recourse Center Library this afternoon. I'm hoping to get a bit of work done because I hear there is very little foot traffic in the corner room of the third floor of the JRo. I think I'm going to buy a Snapple before my session starts.
My big box of winter clothes arrived this morning. Meredith from my floor brought it out to me (she says I can be the Post Office Bitch when she and Anna graduate this spring) and Meredith from Loose Third opened all the doors for me on my way home. Apparently she made a similar trek last week with 30 lbs of snow cone syrup.

I have a cold. Christena from across the hall has mono. She's been watching movies in the dark for three days and eating nothing but mild-butter popcorn. Last week, I shared a Snapple with her at Newspaper Paste-Up. Things could get ugly.

Inspired by my phone and study sessions in the bath tub of the co-ed bathroom, I'm going to turn the tub into a couch with pillows and a sheet from Second Time Around. According to Amelia, the only thing the tubs are ever used for is dying hair and making Jungle Juice. I will not be converting 6226H into any sort of oasis. They should be bringing in chemicals on Wednesday.

I woke up this morning at 3:45 with poor Kathleen standing over me. I look at the clock, look up at her and the only thing she says is "You've got to stop snoring." I apologize and she says "We'll talk about it in the morning."

Oh my god. She must have finally snapped.

I'm sorry, Kathleen...

Here she is... our Mount Rose American Teen Princess...

Last night was decent.

Brent, Carter's best friend from home, came to visit for the weekend. We showed him a decent time. Told decent tales and ate decent food from the Grille at 2 AM this morning. Instead of calling him by his actual name, I decided right away that he looked more like a "Bruno." Unfortunately for him, the nickname stuck. aThank You. He left this morning at about 3- he got a little somethin' somethin' from some international students at Harris, so he was pretty well satisfied with his trip, I think.

I woke up for lunch today and met Ryan at the JRo for grilled cheese and fruit of the forest pie. Meghan kicked us out at 1:50. She's really intimidating. I would like to see her and Stephanie Eggink box. It would be a good fight. To the death.

I have to shower and watch a documentary for GWS in 33 minutes. Professor Alfonso reserved the AV Center for a group of us. This one's about Miss America. I'm excited because I really, REALLY love beauty pageants. The only thing better than watching a beauty pageant on television is watching your friend Caitlin Williams perform in one at the community college. In loving memory I offer this, the all-time greatest post crowning/psuedo make-out shot from the 2006 Miss Whatcom County Pageant.

Awesome, huh?

I talked to Kathryn Frazier yesterday. She's liking Western. I need to call Caitlin. Caitlin, if you're reading this, Ima call you.