Discourse on the Ten Books of Snow, Cigars and Arson.

The Ampitheatre

Yes my friends, AU has an ampitheatre. There it is. There are some advantages to living on McD 2...a semi decent view of the ampitheatre is one of them, although the angle isn't the best.

So anyways...last night I sent out a plea to my friends via away message. It was pretty simple and straight forward...

"To the religious and spiritual: pray for snow. To the atheists: sit in the corner and grumble angrily about the lack of god's existance. To the agnostics: shrug your shoulders, say "whatever" and continue on your merry, lazy lives."

Take no offense, it's pretty much true. I'm an agnostic and I'll be the first one to admit it's because I'm too lazy and preoccupied with my life to go on a spiritual journey to seek the truth. And oddly enough, I'm OK with this. One day something will shake my life to no end and force me my spiritual journey and that's a journey I am looking forward to taking, I'm just not ready for it yet. So to the faithful and to the atheists, rock on. Y'all stick to your convictions no matter what and I applaud you for that. Whether you're right or wrong is inconsequential and unimportant. What matters is that you fervently believe in something, whether it be a god or yourself and y'all deserve mad props. *Hands out the mad props amongst her friends.*

True to my agnostic self, this morning when I saw the snow and learned that classes were not yet cancelled I shrugged my shoulders and continued on my merry way to Ward where I watched an absolutely ridiculous documentary. Today I realized exactly how different justice and law are. Yes, I'm still headstrong in my quest for both and intend to go into one of the least lucrative fields of law, but it shall be worth it. As Rachel and I like to say as we're jogging through one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the country, gawking slightly at the beautiful homes that are more like castles..."Must not sell out to Corporate, Must not sell out to Corporate"

But I digress...the reason for discussing the documentary this morning is because afterwards Kat told me a story that made my day...it's a story of greed, the idiocy of the law and sweet, sweet revenge...

...There once was a man. He clearly had more money then he knew what to do with so he bought absurdly priced cigars. He was so afraid for the well being of these inanimate and cancerous objects that he had them insured against pretty much everything from fires to floods. Eventually, the man smoked all 24 cigars. Then, realizing that he had them insured against fire, sued the insurance comapny for the insurance money. As if the justice system isn't shamed enough, the judge actually forced the insurance company to pay the due money as the company had not specified what kinds of fires were acceptable in the clauses of the contract. The man received approximately fifteen thousand dollars for his destroyed property...
...later the insurance company filed a law suit against the man. What was it for, you ask? Quite simply...they sued him for twenty four counts of arsen to insured property. They too, won. The man paid a large fine and served a small sentence in jail.

And let the dancing begin.

Americanization at it's best

This, my friends, is our nation in a nutshell.

Do you know how badly I wish this was a joke? Do you have even the slightest idea how much pain this advertisement caused me?! If you know me and what I stand for, you probably do.

WB has reached a new low. They've completely run out of ideas and their creators (in order to keep their jobs) came up with the UTTERLY brilliant idea of bringing back the Looney Tunes. Did they release the shows on DVD or reanimate the same characters with new technology? No. That would be FAR TOO CLICHE. Instead, they revamp the characters in a new, sexy and "x-treme" way. They created....*drum roll please* THE LOONATICS. Yes, you heard me. The Loonatics. Somehow they thing that Buggs (or wait...excuse me...BUZZ) Bunny as possessed by SATAN will appeal to the children of today. Let me tell you something. The children of today might be more violent than what we were, they might be more prone to sadisitc activity, but a CARTOON RABBIT WHO LOOKS LIKE BEELZEBUB HIMSELF IS IN CONTROL OF HIS BODY WILL NOT MAKE THEM GIGGLE!!! Not only did they have a piss poor idea, but they can't even come up with a remotely original name to go along with it!

WB has RAPED a great instituion of American youth life! The Looney Tunes were amazing. They were comical to the point of ridculousness and made many a child giggle incessantly. This isn't the first time they (and other corporations) have done this. Remember the Power Rangers? Remember how utterly awesome they were? Then remember the way they changed it, revamped it, to make it appeal to the younger crowds? They RUINED the Power Rangers. But what they're doing to the Looney Tunes is worse. While the Power Rangers were amazing, the Looney tunes are EPIC.

This, my friends, is the direction our nation is going. If the Loonatics represent what is going on now, imagine what it will be like in 20 years when our children are watching cartoons? I shudder to think what THOSE will look like. And the Loonatics is only the beginning. Imagine what they will try to change next. Andy Warhol? Georgia O'Keefe? Emily Dickinson? Robert Frost? Maya Angelou? I, for one, will not go quietly into the night. I will not calmly and passively accept the breakdown of everything I hold near and dear to my heart. I will kick, scream and absolutely refuse to allow such things to happen to our culture. We need to get back to the way things were. Ruining things that are absolutely beautiful and historic is ridiculous. Take stance, reclaim history and the future.

So you won't sleep better alone

Something horrible always happens on Valentine's Day...the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre for one thing...but in relation to my actual life and events I've had to deal with personally, last year we had the Dickinson fiasco that left me in tears for days and absolutely destitute, convinced my life was over. Yeah. Whatever. I moved on, and am ridiculously happy at AU, so it turned out for the best. What happened to me this year, you might ask? Did Clyde break a leg? Did a family member die? No, but one might as well have. I cried bitterly over this loss and in the end was saved only by time.

On February 14, 2005 at approximately 8pm Steve the Pirate II (my cell phone) died. I don't know what happened. I opened StP2 to make a call and suddenly the screen turned half black, half orange. Maybe I dropped him one too many times during my drunken escapades, maybe it was simply his time to go, but regardless of the reason, his death was sudden and probably unprovoked. He was too young to go so quietly into the night. The only thing that kept me from truly having an emotional breakdown was the fact that I brought Steve the Pirate I home with me after break, for in my subconscious I knew StPII would soon be leaving me.

At any rate, time heals all I suppose. In this particular case, what healed my wounds was not time spent in mourning after StPII (though I did), but time spent with the good company of Cingular. Appears as though I've been a customer so long that I'm elligible for a free upgrade. Due to good timing and damn good luck, I was able to upgrade to a camera phone for absolutely nothing. Excuse me while I go happy dance. As I type this Steve the Pirate III is waiting for me at my lovely residence in Pennsylvania and I will be charging him and switching the SIM card tomorrow afternoon when I go home for the Levine wedding.

So the moral of the story kids...out of everything that's bad, something good comes. That and the fact that I'm an absolute nutcase, but hey, most of you already knew that, right?

I really wish I could say that this picture was taken during a drunken stupor...but alas it was not.

We've all had those mornings (or afternoons...whatever) when you've returned to the land of conscious thought and silently declared (or said very loudly) "NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN". However, as most of us know (but few of us admit) we rarely actually mean it. That's said while we are still kicking ourselves while attempting to remember the previous night's activities. My story, should care to continue to read (and you probably don't) is one of fallen through plans, attempts at wandering around a city and far too much rum.

So it's Friday afternoon and I get a call from Jessie declaring that she probably will not be going to Lulu's that night. Earlier both Kat and Sara had decided similarly, though for different reasons. Adam and I decided we still wanted to do something so after declaring that our friends officially sucked, we made the snap decision to get utterly wasted and wander around DC after he got off work. In retrospect, this probably wasn't the best idea (and of course, it was mine). So it's around 11:30 and I'm happily enjoying a rather strong rum and coke, Adam's doing straight rum shots (gave up soda for Lent...oh the irony) and dear, lovely Rob walks in. We invite him to join us in both drinking and wandering. He turns down the drinking (claiming to be sick) but plans to wander with us later. Basically kids, because Rob was pouring our shots we ended up drinking WAY more then we otherwise would have (particuarly Adam). As promised, I drunk dialed Jo and apparently made her chuckle a good bit. Now anyone who's ever gone drinking with me knows that if there's one thing I do when I'm drunk WITHOUT fail is the fact that I LOUDLY declare to anyone who is willing to listen that I am, in fact, "quite sober." This and pretty much anything else I say is in a really really bad British accent. I was so drunk even I admitted that I was drunk. Anyways, after a while we decide it's time to go wander the city. Adam is still moving and speaking fine (though in a notably better British accent) while I am stumbling, stuttering and crashing into walls. Somehow we manage to make it to Tenley and Rob decides to go to Guapo's. Me being me, decide that I want to go with him. God, if you exist, BLESS ADAM. He had the common sense to keep me out of public view and away from anyone who might not have had the best of intentions.

Here's where my memory begins to fail me. Apparently when I got off the shuttle @ Tenley I crashed into the giant grey box things by Hollywood Video. I don't remember that. I think we also did some sort of wandering, though I don't remember that either. What I DO remember is going to 7-11 to warm up. Apparently I was rather loud, red-faced and generally drunken. A cop was sitting outside. Somehow we didn't get arrested and began the trek back to campus. Now here's the real kicker. I DON'T REMEMBER THE WALK AT ALL. I remember being at the 7-11 then I remember passing out in Adam's bed (quiet all of you. Adam's a nice guy who a) doesn't want to do anything w/ me and b) wouldn't even if he did). Honest to god, I don't remember the walk past the Embassies (oh the irony, yet again) or walking past North Side at all.

So this is around 2:30-3am. Next thing that happened was Adam waking me up at 7 saying "Will isn't back. Go sleep in his bed." To which I muttered something and crawled across the room (horribly enough, I was still drunk, the room was spinning), only to pass out again. What did I wake up to next at 10amish? Care to guess? Will's face (with an ENORMOUSLY amused grin on it) about 5 inches from mine. I think I asked something along the lines of "do you want your bed back?" To which Will (who is now DEFINITELY awesome) said "No! Not at all. Just go back to sleep. I'm just going to get a movie." I think I muttered "Thanks Will. You're awesome. I love you" and got a chuckle and "I love you too, mi casa es su casa" in return.

A bit after that, Adam and I went to TDR (he could actually eat...I got about a half a bowl of Fruit Loops in me before I decided it wasn't worth it). Then I went to collect my roommate (someone told me she locked herself out the night before and was waiting for me to return..only I didn't). Fortunately Megs found her keys and was asleep when I returned to pass out in my own bed for a while.

Basically...I think the quote that pretty much defines Friday night/Saturday morning happened Saturday afternoon when I was wandering around the mall with Adam...

Me (slightly horrified/shocked): "THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED?!?!?!??!"
Adam: *laughs ass off*

I saw a priest today dressed in Ash Wednesday attire. I scraemed "HIDE ME" and ran away.

Kat, Shea, me (obviously) and Adam. We celebrated Mardi Gras w/ Cajun food in Woodley minus the typical alcoholism accompanied with Fat Tuesday New Orleans style.

So I realized that most of my Yorkers have never seen pictures of the people down here who kick ass. Oh you've heard the stories, read the quotes, pondered our sanity, but now you have some pictures to go w/my rants. Clearly this is not the entirity of what I have dubbed "The DC Crew" but it's a start. I'll start posting pics more often in here now since I got the god awful "HELLO" thing to work. *mutters*

Our mini "Mardi Gras" celebration was a great deal of fun. It was great to eat in a place with a good atmosphere, service and food again. Oh edible food, how I have missed thee. After getting home Kat and I decided to walk back while the guy's took the bus. Ya wimps.

Oh...had a lovely conversation with my mother today after stats (yes, after stats. When my brain was already fried past the point of repair..I wasted 20 minutes of my life listening to my mom rant about safety). Let's just say I am now playing an odd combination of Pete Yorn and Green Day to soothe my ailing soul. Now many of you think that I hate my mom. I don't. I love her dearly. She just FRUSTRATES me to high hell. Yes, high hell, where the demons run around with bloodshot eyes and the Lord of the Flies is the only one who's allowed to do acid. Anyways...back to the point...my major issue with my mom is the fact that all my life she basically let me do my own thing. When I was younger and needed the coddling, the constant attention she didn't give it to me. She was by no means a bad mother, she was great in fact, but she encouraged me to be independent, she didn't indulge my every whim. NOW, when I'm 19, independent and pretty much self-sufficient she wants to coddle me, tuck me into bed and tell me NICE bedtime stories rather then the ever demented Ducky Story. Now, when I don't need it, she's trying to baby me the way she never did when I was younger. Excuse me while I run screaming into the night. Oh wait, then she'd chase after me with a coat saying "aren't you cold?!" or "don't you think you're showing too much skin?!" Excuse me while I go stab myself in the eye with my cell phone antenna (oh, that's yet another angst but that shall wait for another day).

You fell asleep during the massive orgy. You could have been raped!

The Best Friend ranted at me today. Yes. She ranted. I was proud, teared up a bit even. At any rate, I'm supposed to update this thing STAT.

As many of you, my faithful readers, may have guessed, my journal is filled primarily with my numerous rants about life. For instance, a few months back, I declared my undying love for all things French. Now that particular entry was filled with even more malice and contempt then usual. I had my reasons.

At any rate...the point of this entry is to say that I am amending my ways. I am taking out a new, non-ranty lease on life. From now on I shall write only about the smiling children, blue skies, sunshine and happy little bunnies. Well..ok, I exaggerate. But I am going to try to be less...how do I want to say this...threatening and frightening? Maybe then I can get off the CIA/FBI Watch List!

For instance. Let's say the Chiron returned to the Old Ashley (henceforth known as OA) and she decided to write about the weather. OA would have described today as "absurdly warm" and "appalling to anyone who knows what real winters are like." The New Ashley (NA) will describe today as "beautiful, gloriously warm, and absolutely cherry, as though the sun smiles down from the sky wearing a pair of Oakleys" (that was just for you Adam...I know how you miss your C-Wires)...

...So good bye all! More happiness, pink froth and blue skies to come!!!

Yeah. Right. Sure. If a single one of you even thought for a MINUTE that I meant that clearly you don't know me at all. Ranting is part of who I am! You cannot have me without at least one random rant a week! Seriously, if you're reading this and you believed it you should be ashamed of yourself. Come to my dorm so I can hold up my hand for you to bash your face into. I'm quite ashamed of you. But don't fret, just know that there will be more rants with which to indulge your masochistic tendencies in the near future, as soon as Chiron smashes me over the head with what I like to call the "Mallot of Inspiration."