Back in Blog

So I leave the online blog-world I like to call home for maybe two weeks and what happens? A new American Idol was named, Rachael Ray promoted terrorism via a scarf in a DD ad, Clay Aiken "knocked someone up", Miley dropped Hannah and Wentzson tied the knot and finally announced their pre-marital pregnancy.

Phew, a lot to catch up on...Hollywood never sleeps and neither should I!

Obv I'll touch on these juicy gossip slices in blogs to come (very soon). I can't let these delicious drippings slip through the cracks of my laziness/procrastination. Summer will bring me more free time to do nothing but watch E!, read IN Touch and People while blaring my new duel personality free Miley CD (Breakout, 7/22).

This WILL be the first of many well tanned-bikini clad-fruity drink in hand-summer blog post.

So as the text savvy might say, "TTYS <3".

No more teachers, no more books

Yesterday was my last day of classes...wooo hoo! Right? Not really.

Sure, summer vacation is bitchen. Homework blows. Finals = sucky when it's beach-worthy weather. Meh.

All this may be true but I really don't care that school's out for summer. I (for the most part) kind of like my homework because it involves: post on my blog once a week...which I'm doing right now. Or write a portion of my memoir which I want to do anyway. My professors were all amazing and I had a kick ass schedule.

The three or so months between classes are not all they're cracked up to be. Follow me--we have to pack up all of our shit that has accumulated over two whole semesters, move out of our dorms where we are free to live by our own rule-free rules and we head home most likely far far away from friends. Personally, I have no friends from like high school or in my town so leaving UMass can be very lonely. I do love the extra quality time with the fam but even they get sick of that after like a week.

Luckily all of my close friends are just that- they live within in a not so distant trip. Since I totally don't have a car however (different blog for another day) no matter where my amigos rest there academic hats, I can't get to them.

And summertime jobs. How much do those suck? Not everyone is lucky enough to spend their summers vacaying on Myrtle Beach all tanorexic (both too tanned and skinny for this matter) sipping umbrella trimmed, sugar rimmed drinks. Last summer, I spent my days in high waisted, highly unattractive khaki pants and an equally unflattering too big t-shirt touting the logo of Smokey Bones: BBQ Grill. Swimming laps around a vat of mustard based barbecue sauce instead of fresh salty sea water = not my idea of an enjoyable break. Not to mention the horrific pay and mediocre tips.

Later this month, or next week for that matter, I have nothing concrete lined up. A few applications will be in the mail, an interview in place but nothing salary guaranteeing. No income to assure a road romping trip with fellow cabin fevered folks. Between shifts of buff-a-cue chicken serving in Summer 07, I was fortunate enough to be one of the elite beach dwellers on the exclusive isle of Nantucket (only affording the trip because of a friendly invite and free bed).

It may be too late to assure a more invigorating May-August 08 but I know at the end of it all I have September to look forward to and my (eek) senior year. School has friends within walking distance, no curfews or regulations and a workstudy job which is like free money. My 21st birthday does fall nicely between spring and fall which holds potential for making this vacation worthwhile.

We'll see how the sizzling season unfolds but until then, I will take advantage of the university and the free two weeks of no finals or classes where I can enjoy what college is really for--staying up till 4am riding around town, an iPod on shuffle and a slurpee with amazing people and waking up at 2 in the afternoon to repeat the more than fulfilling cycle.

Famous people get sick too

All the Beautiful (but mostly slutty) Girls and their stripper pole boyfriends came out of the Dartmouth woodwork for Sean Kingston's UMD spring concert.

The (not so) much awaited performance sponsored by Campus Activities Board was a semi-success. Other schools get Kanye, Paramore or Fall Out Boy...UMD got Kingston and Blessid Union of Souls (they were big in the 90's with that song "Hey Leonardo"). Apparently, these bands were all CAB could afford, so the campus had to settle.

After a killer 65 minute set from Blessid, including their few singles and a Queen throwback, the Jamaican teen wonder and his hype man cleverly named "Hype King" took the small black stage.

Suddenly, all 575 audience members stood up or rushed the stage. Too small tube tops struggled to stay put, mini-skirts inched up bouncy legs and guys positioned themselves accordingly for their chicks to grind up on. Yeah, college kids at their absolute finest. Sean was only joined by his crowd pumping partner and a DJ. Right off the bat, the barely legal Biggie look-alike wasn't quite up to par. Assumably out of breath due to his teddy bear frame, he was just kind of walking back and forth, singing with the track every so often.

About 35minutes flew by and Sean was sneaking off stage and sending a peace face his fans' way. Left a little disappointed, the $20 ticket holders filed out next. As a tech worker, equipped with a backstage pass, my friends and I slipped behind the curtains and formed a line in front of the makeshift tent housing the "Take Me There" rapper.

Two at a time. One photo. One autograph.

We followed instructions and got another celeb pic for my ever growing collection. While trying to wrap my arms around the big man, it was clear he was not well--all sniffley, congested and wheezing. Aww, his invincible fame-immune system was tarnished by the flu of sorts. I told him to feel better, feeling like some sort of mother myself. Who else was around to care for him? The DJ? Hype King? No one.

I felt bad for snagging a photo at this point but still wished him well. On our way out, we stole the rest of his freebie food and drinks, bragged to those not fortunate enough to sneak a meet-and-greet, and lectured the head of CAB on who to get next spring. Magician Justin Kredible, crooner Jason Mraz. Who knows who we'll get, but I'll be there no matter what for a good star stalking time.

Four eyes (minus two...)

We are all born with two eyes.
They vary in color, size, shape and usefulness.
Some of us are lucky enough to get two more eyes- glasses.

Since I was 7yrs. old, I have been a member of the quad-eyed population. My first pair was circular, hot pink and shiny gold frames. They covered a large surface area of my face just under my curled, poofy bangs and always caused a bright glare spot in every school photo. I loved them.

Even at such a young and impressionable age, I wasn't ashamed of my optical enhancers. The name calling, "four eyes! geek! nerd!", none of it affected me. Most weaker children would have cried their way home and fed their frames to the dog.

Over the years my eye shields got progressively cooler- from edgy frameless lenses to artsy blue square specs. Contacts were never a thought that crossed my mind. Obviously it was brought up, but it never stuck.

Until last week.


I didn't lose any self-esteem- the fact that I wear over-sized yet stylish sunglasses over my spare eyes didn't embarrass me. The fact that my blue plastics sat crooked on my nose didn't bother me. It was one conversation with my girl friends about make-up.

We are all attending a prom-like dance (Theatre Ball) next week and everyone was pumped about flashy eye shadows and lengthy fake lashes...they all looked at me and said, "Well, we'll find something fun for you."

But-but I wanna play too.

So I went out and got contacts. Yeah, it happened that fast. 13yrs. of ocular confidence out the window.

After a $90 tutorial fee and one hour of watery eyes and probing fingers, I got rid of my specular friend.

Seeing me in public will be the testament to whether or not I won the battle that morning with my eyes' natural instinct to fight back when being poked with foreign objects.

I hate them.

My "friend" once told me my face looks fat without glasses and now I believe him. I hate being without my face shield, my spare pair. No one has even noticed! Unless you knew me back in kindergarten, you have never seen me glass-free.

I will continue the daily battle but will not win the war. After Theatre Ball, you can all call me four eyes again.