Spring Break Part One: The Coveted Hair Virgin

Yes, it is here everybody. The long long awaited blog post about my spring break. My last spring brEAK AHHHHHHH! Now that's out of the way. Since my break was so long ago, I'll just write about two major events I experienced, one during the first week and another during the second (and in two separate-more manageable-posts).

Alright, first! On the first Monday of my break I was given a little glimpse into the mystical world of hair stylists, and started my unforeseen hair modeling career. Half a week previously my hair stylist friend Cody had posted a message on his Facebook wall asking if anyone would be interested in free hair color, and be a volunteer in return. I timidly expressed some interest and the rest is history. Early early Monday morning Cody picked me up in an intense rain/thunder/hail storm and we drove off to a Hilton somewhere not in Arlington (so sue me I don't remember). About 45 minutes later Cody's GPS said that we had arrived. Yes we had arrived at a wonderful insurance company building. Um. GPS didn't feel the need to give us the exact location, but we found it eventually. I then proceeded to spend an hour sitting and waiting around (in the freezing Hilton conference room-this is important) while the members of the hair color company slowly arrived and set up. I guess I should explain what exactly I was there for. So Cody works part time for this hair color company Schwarzkopf which is actually over 100 years old (who knew). He and his coworkers go to various venues and do demonstrations for hair stylists, to promote their company's products. This time they were dying hair and I was one of the hair models. There was one other model that had been chosen, a black girl with a lot of curly hair (not really ideal for a quick demonstration, but it worked somehow). Then, they actually got a third model by picking out one of the hotel workers who obviously had previously dyed hair with roots and all. About 10 minutes before hair stylists started arriving Cody started his attack on my hair-preparing me for my beautiful color, and discovered the ever so annoying nature of my semi-clean hair which resists being held up even under threat of submission. The result was like so:

Slowly, the potential future clients of Schwarzkopf filed in, and sat down anxiously awaiting their chance to view my hair transform. Eventually, I was shuffled to one side of the room to sit with the two other models and await our time. Cody and the other three girl demonstrators started their spiel about their whole hair color line. And this is a great time to tell you my new found massive respect for anyone who professionally colors other people's hair. I always joke that at my mom's work everyone speaks in letters-basically, acronyms galore. Well everyone at Schwarzkopf speaks only in numbers. Each hair color is represented by a set of numbers. Each number represents a color, but depending on the order of the numbers, dyes can be very different. Not only do they have to remember about 1,000 combinations of numbers, they have to decide on the intensity of each color, and which colors to mix and match and just so many things it makes my head want to explode. I always knew hair work involved loads of creativity, but I had no idea how much technical expertise and judgement is involved-and that's after you've chosen which color you think will work best. Ok that was more detailed than I probably needed to go into, but damn. Massive respect from me to Cody and all the other badass hair stylists out of there.

So after going through some of their colors/numbers it was my turn to get dyed. Cody gave a little background on my hair and what he was going to do with it. It was at this point where I felt about 3o sets of eyes stare adoringly at my hair for the first time that day. Why were they adoring you ask? Because I had the highly coveted virgin hair. Yes, my hair was free of dye and a blank slate to be turned into a work of art. Little did they know my hair was not truly virgin since it had been dyed my senior year of high school, but they didn't need to know. I was a born again hair virgin anyway. At this time, Cody gave the stylists a chance to get up close and personal with me-meaning my hair. They came up and basically combed and picked through my hair with their fingers, and ooed and awed at it's virgin nature. I felt adored and like an animal at the same time. I was no longer human. I was hair.

While the spokespeople continued talking about numbers, Cody began coloring my hair (about four different colors as he had explained earlier). I mentioned the room was cold before because it made the hair dye feel like liquid ice being combed through my hair. I tried to suppress shivers of pure chill and or giggles of discomfort, mostly with success, as my hair started to feel heavier and heavier. After he was done I was led back to my waiting corner to let the color set for a little bit. About 2,500 numbers later it was time to wash out the dye. This might have been the funniest/least fun part of the experience. The demonstrators had rented out a room. I was led up by a very nice woman to said hotel room. I than proceeded to bend down and put my head under the water faucet in the shower. The woman applied shampoo and rinsed it out as watery hair dye ran down my face and into my eyes, which were very intelligently closed if I say so myself. I had to rinse the conditioner myself, which took some more creative maneuvering under the faucet.

At no point during this process did I get to look in a mirror. So I was oblivious to the changes. I was blow dried back down in the conference room and I was the first model to have their new hair revealed to the anticipating hair stylists. They were super happy with my hair. They rushed up to view up close the magic of my multicolored hair. So, more hands being run through my head, and the objectification of my hair. They especially liked the streak of blond in the middle of my hair. I too liked my new hair when I finally got a chance to view it. I was happy at how dramatically different it was, but it would take some getting used to it. As the weeks have gone by I've loved it more and more, which makes it very sad that my roots are coming in. This is also sad b/c my roots were also showing during my high school graduation. I didn't think that part of getting dyed through. But it was worth it anyway.

Before I end this post, there were two more fun things of note during my lunch at the Cheesecake Factory with Cody, and two of the Schwarzkopf women he works with, after the demonstrations were over and all the hair stylists had left. One, we were sitting at a table, two of us on each side. On my side there was a long horizontal mirror, I guess showing the back of my neck. Half way through the meal, Cody realized that all the hair stylists had been talking to each other by looking at themselves in the mirror--you know as you would if consulting with a hair client at a salon.

The second is a moment I will never forget. During lunch I was facing a TV screen playing various daytime TV fare, C.O.P.S I think. At one point I looked at the TV and noticed bananas. 'That's strange' I thought to myself. What could this commercial be? I then saw images of rotting bananas and horribly frustrated costumers. What to do about these rotten bananas? Of course--an indoor banana tree. Why didn't I think of it sooner!? It was legit a real commercial about an indoor banana tree, that provides bananas to household members to eat on the go, or put in their purse as the commercial suggested. They acted like this tree would endlessly supply bananas. I also found out later from my sister that banana trees only produce bananas once in their life time. Great product commercial really.

Well that's a weird way to end a post about being a hair model. So I'll end with this. A thought occurred to me soon after my hair was done. Those stylists had lovingly coveted my virgin hair. But then it was quickly taken away from me. They had stolen my (second hair) virginity! I would never be coveted in the same way every again. Oh well. Thanks anyway Cody! If I could I would fly you over to do my roots.

As a teaser for part two, and a small/ambiguous glimpse of my new hair, I give you this:

Travel Log #543

Well, this post isn't going to be as emotional, or well composed as my brother's recent harrowing tale (which totally made me tear up). Yes something didn't go as planned with my travels, but my story is actually not tragic at all (like my fateful Christmas disaster almost four years ago), and ended up working out for the best. But I feel like I would be remiss if I didn't talk about how my travel didn't go exactly as planned, since that does make up 70% of my blog.

This fine Saturday morning I got a ride to the airport from my work manager, his wife, and another custodial worker who needed a ride to the Des Moines Airport, my common haunt. I realized on the way I had checked my flight number the previous night, but hadn't bothered to look at the airline. So, it took me a while to navigate the check-in kiosk successfully. On my third try I found my Delta reservation and saw something kind of weird. My first flight was arriving in Atlanta about an hour after my connection flight to DC was leaving. My flight from Des Moines was delayed an hour (apparently b/c of maintenance I found out later). I went to talk to real people at the Delta counter, laughing softly on the way, and told them my connection was now useless. She promptly put me on a later flight out of Atlanta. Long story short, I had to wait around an extra hour, but it was actually a good thing. With my original itinerary I would have had to run like mad to catch my connecting flight (the Atlanta Airport is pretty huge, even for Gigantor). The new flight even ended up arriving early (though still 50 minutes late for me). I made it in time to watch my Mom's awesome choral concert, and I now have the happy fortune to sit on the chair of my childhood home.

See that wasn't so bad. Last night on the other hand, wasn't so good...at least for a quick moment. First, this post will be better (well it will make more sense) if you listen to this song while reading it (well watching the video will make it make even more sense, if that makes sense): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0

Last night I drove my friends Perri and Laura to Marshall town for dinner and a movie. The movie was the Lincoln Lawyer, which I ended up liking more than I thought I would. Actually I decided I loved it within the first thirty minutes because they used one of my favorite rap songs (an obscure one too) as background music. Anyway, before the movie we went to Culvers because Perri was really craving it. Somehow our topic of conversation turned to Rebecca Black's "Friday" (which you should be listening to now if you haven't already torn off your own ears). Perri has been fortunate enough not to hear it, so Laura and I were explaining it to her. My tagline for the song is "The song that answers the age old question-what comes after Friday but before Sunday?" We were of course making fun of the song, but then I made the realization that the joke is really on us. Yes people think the song is stupid, but they're watching it and downloading it and buying it just to make fun of it. Rebecca's gonna be very rich very soon. Anywho, the video complements the inaneness of the song very well. Especially when Rebecca hops in a car of thirteen year olds. Miss Rebecca, it doesn't matter if you kick it in the front seat, or sit in the back seat, your 13 year old friend should not be driving your car. Anyway young lady, do your parents know you're going to a sketchy party that will include a whole bunch of thirteen year olds and an adult black guy. So there is the background you need.

After the movie, I started driving my friends back to Grinnell. I still do not know what happened. Perri, or Laura will have to draw me a diagram. But I was trying to turn left, but had temporarily stopped because I didn't not want to risk hitting the oncoming traffic. I thought I was being all responsible. How was I to know a stupid stupid car would try to turn right into me? Perri says they were turning into the wrong lane...I know I had the right of way...we know that I didn't do anything wrong. They came about two inches away from hitting the passenger side. I really wish I had an eagle-eye video tape of our reactions because our screams must have sounded hilarious. Perri and Laura were especially nonplussed with the prospect of shattering their leg's or pelvic bones. At the time it was terrifying. And then the drivers looked at us with surprised angry faces like we had done something wrong, which WE DIDN'T. After the incident, (my car luckily no worse for wear) the three of us debriefed about the incident for a good twenty minutes. What were they thinking? What the hell actually happened? They looked like teenagers. A glimmer sparked in my eye--and I spoke--tying the whole evening together:

"This is what happens when Rebecca Black encourages thirteen year olds to drive!"

Short Short Story

Yes, it's true. I have been a horrible horrible blogger. It has been months since my last post, and I'm sorry. I will do a longer post sometime during spring break (next next week!). To tide you over, here's a short story (not fictional) of two interconnected events that occurred the week following Christmas.

Life Imitates Art

After coming home from seeing True Grit we had a Churchman jam session. David played show tunes on the piano while Emily, Mom and I sang along. One of the songs was "America" from west side story. For those heathens who do not know, this is a song sung by women from Puerto Rico talking about how life in America is "better". For example, the women sing "Everything's free in America...for a small fee in America." The next day I was getting a hair cut at the ever reliable Hair Cuttery and overheard a conversation between two of the stylists who didn't have costumers to appease. Both women were not from America and were literally acting out the line: "There are many free things in America. You just have to pay for them. It only costs five dollars to get something free". I half expected them to start dancing and snapping.

The End.

It Was that Wonderful Time of the Year

These are the days of sitting... These are the days of socializing... These are some of the days of my break so far... I decided to continue my journaling style, basically so I have something to post when/if Jessica laments my lack of posting. This here's a long one. Without further ado, let's start where I left off...

December 18th.

Flying home day. The only real problem was an hour delay in Tennessee. I almost prefer for things to go terribly wrong because it makes for a good story. An hour delay is just annoying. I was driven straight from the airport to the church for a dinner honoring our British guests. A British choir (of <30>

December 19th

Bestie Liz Burman was coming to stay at our house the next day, but for a little preview Liz spent part of this afternoon helping me Xmas shop for my family. I found presents for Ma, Pa, and Sis, but David's was proving to be super elusive. Therefore, Liz "helpfully" point out every single item that he would never want or need. Thus creating a fun game to be continued later. But at the time I did think of the perfect gag gift. David is currently a teacher at a school with a focus on discipline, so I wanted to get him one of those wooden spanking paddles. Pretty sure I wasn't going to find it a store I looked online. A tip for all of you. Never look up wooden paddle on google. One brilliant site I found was literally called spanking-paddles.com. You could even get them engraved! Unfortunately, they were 40 bucks and over. Looking up spanking paddles on amazon.com also directs you to some pretty salacious items. After using my Mom's computer to search (Liz was using mine) I discovered I had not logged her out of her amazon account, leaving her with some pretty interesting recommendations. OOps. After Liz left for the night, Mom Dad and I brought the two Brits to their first ever Mexican restaurant. It was like going to dinner with walking sociological perspectives. First, they spotted football on one of the restaurant TVs and made very amusing (and true) comments on the ridiculousness of the game. 'Look at their outfits. Their so shiny and tight.' Next we had to explain all the different dishes to them, making it painfully clear that all Mexican dishes are exactly the same: 'Oh you know, it comes with a tortilla, beans, cheese, and some kind of meat. Yeah that one too.' One girl even had her first margarita. Very interesting.

December 20th

In the morning I had breakfast with the Brits-my Mom had made delicious waffles and berry sauce. Afterwards, the two girls left for the church with their suitcase (the idea being that they would jump on whatever flight became available). They did eventually get a flight, but unfortunately, it was flying out on Xmas Eve (bummer). Instead of staying separately at US home-stays, the whole group decided they would stay at a hotel for the rest of their (unintentionally prolonged) stay. A few days later, their tragic story was picked up by news stations in the US and the UK and they got an earlier flight. What really clinched it for them though was one little choir boy saying something like "I'm afraid Santa won't be able to find me." Aw.

For the evening, Liz and I went to Galaxy Hut to meet our friend Harry (you may remember him from me getting stuck in the airport before Christmas take two). Proving it certainly is a small world we also ran into three other past HB-ers: Nick, Sophia Trick, and Stacey Weinstock. But wait...there was more! Liz also ran into TWO of her brothers who apparently knew a member of the band playing in the pub that night. Yeesh.

December 21st

Liz and I went into the district to meet her friend/fellow camp counselor/guy I met once before Caleb for lunch and stuff. We ate at a lovely food court, with deliciously unhealthy give-you-an-early-death food. Our two topics of conversation, naturally, were E-readers and camp experiences. We followed it up with some more shopping and more "helpful" hints about what to buy David from Liz. I took her straight to the airport afterwards. For the second phase of my day I went to see Esyle (her name has been changed to protect her from the embarrassment to come in a moment) in her new apartment (which was lovely by the way). Had a tiny bit of trouble getting there...yeah a 15 minute drive turned into an 1.5 hour drive. Stupid S. Glebe was blocked off by the po-lice for blocks and blocks, making it impossible to reach W. Glebe. The first half of the trip was stupid Glebe's fault, but the second was my own. After coming ten feet away from W. Glebe I took a deadly wrong turn and ended up exactly where I started. GRR! Lovely Esyle, looked up an alternate route on Google that ended up taking about ten minutes. You couldn't given that as the first option Google!?! Esyle gave me food as soon as I arrived to appease the beast within me. In the perfect way to end the evening Esyle walked me to the elevator and said "I have to pee so I won't go down in the elevator with you"... and then noticed the two other people standing in the elevator. She ran away in shame while I continued to burst out laughing in front of my elevator mates saying through partial tears "I'll never let her live this down". And now she never will.

December 22nd

Today I continued my Christmas shopping quest. I thought I was so smart not leaving my shopping to the last minute and so did everyone else. I started with a little Target to finish off one present and I went to Pentagon City Mall next mainly because there was a store there I wanted to go to for myself. Finding parking was miserable as the only way to actually get a space was to stalk some poor fellow shopper who was getting in their car to leave. I eventually found my stalkee and bravely entered the fray. I went to my store first. I had the exact jeans I wanted in mind, I went up to said item, and picked it up. I then got distracted by so many other things that I simply had to try on. About 45 minutes later (only a slight exaggeration) I walked out of the store with...the jeans I had come in for. Nothing else had worked and I cursed the heavens. There was some more bad as I wandered around for the rest of the time failing to find David's present. Fun day.

This evening I went to a "wine and cheese" party held at Stephanie's house. I drove Ashleigh (taking the designated driver role upon myself) and got to see her for the first time since fall break. Apparently, she is temporarily stuck in the US, so I might be seeing more of her. Yay for me, sucks for her though. I was happy to find that most of the whole old HB gang was there. It was good times. Somehow we ended up watching a movie. Sorry, not a movie. THE BEST MOVIE EVER. "Cloudy with the Chance of Meatballs". A movie I definitely wouldn't have seen had it not been put in front of me (Steph has an amazing home theatre room), but I am so glad I got to. On a serious note the animation and concept art was amazing. The rest of the movie can literally not be taken on a serious note. It was funny, it was random, it was obviously targeted to kids with ADHD, and it just had some great lines and sight gags. Sight gag example: A 'ratbird' (one of the main character's inventions and exactly what it sounds like) flies away with a little child. But, my favorite bit were the lines. The comedy was not tired or predictable like so many animated movies these days and it was surprisingly direct. Some lines for example. Main girl says to main guy: "Can you keep a secret?", he answers: "Nah." Line 2: A bystander eats food that has just fallen from the sky and says "This tastes significantly better than sardines!". Oh and a monkey with a thought translator! voiced by Neil Patrick Harris! "And!... really you have to see the movie to understand the amazing hilarious visually stunning amazingness. And I need to see it 10 more times to remember everything. Be prepared Perri.

December 23rd

Despite my best efforts, I had to finish my Christmas shopping on this day before Christmas Eve. I expected terror and bloodshed, but it was actually pretty mild compared to the other day: and I found David's present (thus ending the saga)! At 3:30pm I was to meet with the choir director at St. George's to practice my duet with my moms. At 2:40pm Ashleigh invited me over to her house because I might have told her the previous day that I would be available around that time. I thought the church thing was later, honest! Leading me to say to her "I didn't lie, I just didn't know the extent of the truth at the time." Then, Megan brought up a good point, Ashleigh has never ever at any time lied to me about when she would be available (she remarks sarcastically). Oh yeah, Megan from HB times was at Ashleigh's house too and so was Frenchman Gabriel (Ten billion points if you noticed that this was the same cast from this summer's adventure to the Arlington County fair where a ride tried to amputate my thigh). We had some egg nog and listened to some mellow tunes. Luckily I got to leave before Ashleigh played my newly burned mix (I fear it was not one of my bests). After the church thing Mom waited awhile so she could bring EMILY home! Later that night DAVID came home. And with that, all the Churchmans were in place for CHRISTMAS TIME!

December 24th & December 25th

Of course many things happened these two days, but I've always thought of these days as personal family time...and I'm tired of typing...so I'll only give you a description of my favorite Xmas tradition, which I'll call "The Saga of the Golden Monkey". There is an ornament. It is painted gold. And it is a monkey. My Mom hates it with all her heart and thinks it's gaudy. I love it with all my heart. I'm truly not trying to be difficult, I really like it and frankly I think we have uglier ornaments. Regardless, every Christmas brings another silent battle between me and my Mom (with my sister on my side). Em and I make sure the monkey stays on the tree at all costs, while my Mom quietly and sneakily tries to remove it. Of course my favorite moment is when my Mom discovers the ornament back on the tree and let's out a little groan of frustration (so sue me I'm a sadist). Well this year Emily found the ornament among the others and we put it on the tree. On Christmas Eve Em noticed the monkey was missing. We decided to put up stockings and as I retrieved them from the back room I saw in one of the Xmas boxes...the monkey. In retaliation I literally wired the monkey into the tree. I waited for the rest of the holidays for my Mom to discover my deed. Alas, today (the day of posting this post) was the day to take down the tree and the event had not yet taken place. I had to resort to more obvious tactics. I stripped the tree of all ornaments except the monkey and told my mom there was one ornament left she could remove herself. She did let out a little giggle when she found it was stuck to the tree, which appeased me, but it wasn't as satisfying as a real surprise would have been. Next year Mother...next year...

THE END

And finally because I have recently been told my Facebook statuses are amusing, here are a couple:

Semester over? No that doesn't sound right. Really? How many semesters left? One, you say? Surely not.

and...

Merry Christmas to all those celebrating Christmas today. To all the other heathens, have a nice day. I kid, I kid.

My Second to Last Finals Week

This post will be a little different from the others. I'm aiming for sort of a journal entry style, so I don't have to sit down and try to remember everything that happened to me retrospectively. At the end of each day of finals week I will write a little something about it. Hopefully, by being as honest as possible about what I actually did (procrastination and all), I'll actually guilt myself into getting something done. Now that that's out of the way.

Saturday December 11

I didn't get any work done today, but it was OK because...I say it is. I wanted to use this day to relax and not think about work-recharge myself for the week ahead. This past week had been pretty stressful thanks to an Abnormal Psychology comic book project (which can be viewed here; http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=584275&id=775895149). But it had been especially deadly for Perri who had much to do. Basically we didn't see each other outside of class for most of the week. So, on Saturday morning Perri came to make up for all the television we had missed. Next, I decided to tag along with Perri and her friend (now my friend?) Laura to go grocery shopping for cookie materials. We returned to Perri's apartment where we gained an addition in the form of Alex (for long time readers the Alex I hung out with in Montana two summers ago). I cleaned Perri's dishes (be proud of me parents!), then helped Laura with her first cookie making attempt (meaning I back-seat baked). Somehow (b/c of me) wine became part of the deal and we adulted it up. Alex and Perri eventually left to do other things and so I was left alone with Laura. Both of us are pretty shy, so we confined our talk to cookie making, but there was something comfortable about the silences that dominated our time together...I'd say we're friends now (b/c she friended me on Facebook-which I believe is significant for her). She left and I napped on Perri's bed. Perri returned to my room with me and eventually we watched anime w/ Brett. Good day-unexpected socializing!

Sunday Dec 12

At 3pm was a Sing-a-long Messiah in Herrick Chapel. On Friday there was an informal get together at Bucksbaum where anyone who wanted to could sing the Hallelujah chorus from Messiah. It was pretty cathartic, it being the last day of classes and all. Anywho, this sing a long had a few more selections from Messiah. The singers sat in pews at Herrick Chapel, while the orchestra, director and soloists were on 'stage'. The bass soloist was my choir conductor, the tenor soloist was my brother's old voice teacher, and the soprano was my old voice teacher. It actually made me kind of self conscious b/c my teacher could look straight at me, and I wanted to look like I was doing a good job. It was still fun though. At night, everything that could go wrong during our work shift did go wrong. The zamboni ran out of battery so we had to mop everything while I temporarily broke a mop. It provided enough laughs though and turned into a good time. Now before bed, an episode of Merlin w/ Perri and studying.

Monday Dec 13

Absolutely nothing happened today. That is all. Move along, nothing to see here.

Tuesday Dec 14

Last night I had a dream. I was in the bathroom on my dorm room floor (not doing that!) using the sinks. Both were very full and I had to make sure too much water didn't get into one of the sinks. I feel like this was an omen of some kind, but don't ask me what kind. We'll see. I woke up early to fit in some last minute studying and then went to take my Major Western Religions final. Done with that class! Two left. My grand plan for the day was to finish a paper that is due Thursday, so I could take my Abnormal Psych final in the morning and then be done. Yeah. That didn't work out so well. After waking up early I was knackered, so I decided to take a nap before working on said paper. So, that took longer than expected. Then at five pm I sat down ready to tackle and finish it and then...Bring! My phone rang and it was Perri. Apparently our friend Brett's car battery was dead (preventing her from leaving). Perri offered to help her only to find out her own car's battery was dead. So that left me. Long story short I ended up being no help at all because Brett was helped by security and Perri's car batter was unreachable with her short cable. I did get to dig my car out of ice and run around in the freezing cold for no reason for 30 minutes. So that was fun. Also long story short my paper didn't finish either. Oh well I tried. I really need to find a more efficient paper writing technique.

Wednesday Dec 15

Tomorrow morning is my Abnormal Psychology final. Tomorrow @ 4pm I must turn in my last final/paper for Sociology of Health and Illness. So what did I prepare for this day? Both! I started the day with a little bit of paper writing and realizing the way I write papers is horribly time consuming. Must work on that next semester, but genius takes time. For most of the day I studied for Abnormal Psychology and wow I just realized how boring this all must be for anyone reading right now and I will stop... Except also Perri studied with me so solidarity! except I also helped her procrastinate and... Ok stopping now.

Thursday Dec 16

I once again woke up two hours early to get in some last minute studying. I was actually feeling pretty confident, I just wanted it to be done with. Therefore, I was a bucket full of jitters when Perri and I arrived in class way too early (a running joke with me and Perri-because Perri likes to be early and I--often am not early). By the end my hand felt like it would fall off and I was developing a writing blister on my finger (again exciting stuff) because I wrote soooo much. I was actually the last one to finish leaving me alone to have an awkward conversation with my Professor. "So do you think you did well?" "Depends on how generous you're feeling". I finished by 11:30 and had a paper due by 4pm, so I went straight from writing to typing. I took a lunch break to stuff my face (it was the most satisfying meal for some reason: brain food?) but pretty much wrote continuously till 3:50pm. By that time I had turned 12 pages of quotes and random thoughts into exactly 6 pages of brilliantly coherent Brilliance (too redundant?) which was good because it could be no longer than 6 pages. And with that last final in I went ah. I watched all that YouTube stuff I had so responsibly left 'til after my finals and melted into my bed and then went with Perri to play with Kitties at the Shelter...and scoop litter and stuff.

Friday Dec 17

I'm sorry. What? My what is over? My second to last semester? Surely you must be mistaken I'm not graduating any tiME SOON I CAN'T BE LEAVING YOU CAN'T MAKE ME LEAVE! Actually the day was pretty stress free. I graciously agreed to work lunch with Perri only to be abandoned for the first ten minutes. Someone had lost track of time at the barn and skipped our lunch date...I'm joking Perri, don't get upset. For dinner, Perri, Laura, Alex and I went out for Mexican. We were joined later by a nice lad named Jing. It was a great end to our semester...you know...the semester that isn't over, that didn't just happen.

Update: Got a 99/100 on my Abnormal Psychology Final. Bringing my class grade up to an A-. Hells yes.

Gigantor Gets Stuck in an Airport...Again.

There are some people who should simply not be allowed to travel…or maybe it’s just me. The point is: me + airport = disaster.

First, Grinnell decided that the first real day of winter weather for the season should be on the day everyone flies home for Thanksgiving...or maybe it was targeting me specifically (I’m not paranoid, I’m just seeing the pattern). I wasn’t even planning to go home for Thanksgiving, but then during fall bread I found out David would be coming home. I didn’t want to be the one family member left out, but also, we haven’t had Thanksgiving as a whole family for approximately 10 years. Anywho, it was raining ice, so I decided to leave for the airport super early (and even skip my last class) to drive before the roads became truly treacherous. Well, I had no trouble driving…so that’s good…

When I arrived at the Des Moines Airport I decided to treat myself to a massage, since I had so long to wait (longer than I thought). A calm massage to start off my calm uneventful travels…no Universe? Ok then.

Long story—and severe depression—short, my flight was delayed for 1.5 hours. We ended up taking off after 8pm, which didn’t really fit with my 9pm connection time at Chicago O’Hare. As the aircraft was jostled by the choppy air, I hoped against hope that the same things that delayed my flight to Chicago would delay my connection flight. My flights are always late anyway, why couldn’t this time be any different? The one time I actively wished for one of my flights to be late the universe could not frickin oblige me. My connection was right on time and left promptly at 9pm. As soon as my plane landed, and before I knew the truth, I listened to my voice mail and heard my lovely mother telling me something about getting an automatic message about me being rebooked on another flight—yay!—leaving at 6:55 am—%$$%$!!! ####@@!!! *((@*#@!!!!

As soon as I deplaned I ran to the departure screens and sure enough my flight had left right on time. So logically I went to the United customer service center where I could be comforted and reassured by a nice, warm airline worker whose mission in life is to please the customer. Instead I found a cold, hard, self-help touch-screen computer monitor that spit me out a new boarding pass and sent me on my way, presumably to sleep on a cold, hard airport floor, desperately clutching my belongings to prevent a tragic theft of the only belongings I currently had. For some crazy reason, I decided instead I wanted to stay at a hotel. However since I had no United person to talk to, I called David.

Mom (who was monitoring the call along with Emily—the family all together, comfortably at home) gave me a customer support number for United Airlines, which turned out to be a great help, in that it made relieving sardonic laughter protrude from my mouth. The four options first presented to me by a computerized voice from the 1-800 number mentioned nothing of a hotel, so I said rather rudely into the telephone ‘more options’. These options were equally useless, so I decided I would try as many as possible in an attempt to TALK TO A REAL LIFE PERSON FOR $#%^$ SAKE. I thought the best option was to say clearly “Customer Relations”. That has got to get you to a real person right? You can’t complain to a computer. I was greeted by this message:

“If you would like to make a complaint or give a compliment about our service you can email United Airlines @blahblah. If you prefer to write a letter, you can reach us at…” Perfect! I’ll write a letter—so useful!

Dear United Airlines,

Please give me a voucher for a hotel. I’m ever so tired.

Ever yours,

Abigail.

“We’ll try to get back to you within 5 business days”, computer voice concluded and I resisted the urge to throw my cell phone against the wall.

I decided to wander further in hopes of human contact, and somehow found a customer service station with real people…and a real long line of weary, frustrated travelers. While in line I received a call from David. He had managed to talk to a real person at the customer service phone number. How, I wondered? Was I merely being thick headed when I couldn’t reach a real person? Apparently not. David had discovered (I assume through trial and error) that the way to talk to a person was to yell ‘operator, operator, help’ into the phone with desperation. However, the person had said he couldn’t do anything about a hotel.

The line for customer service was located right next to a McDonalds. So I thought to myself, after I get this hotel funny business figured out, I can drown my sorrows in saturated fat and sugar water. I looked at the service station for a second, and when I looked back at the McDonalds there was a metal grate blocking me from comfort. It was at this point that my spirit died. By the time I was finally called up for my turn, I discovered I could no longer speak coherently. Somehow I asked for a voucher for a hotel and she said “well that depends on why you missed your flight”. After some typing on her evil technology she decided weather was not United’s fault. Well it certainly wasn’t mine. She gave me a tiny discount they give everyone, and I decided to take my Mom up on her offer to put me up in the Airport’s Hilton for the night…so I could be stranded in style!

I eventually got to the hotel, slept for a couple of hours, staggered to security, boarded my right-on-time 6:55am flight, arrived at National and was picked up by David who took me home. I didn’t break my 31-hour record for time it takes to return home, but whatevs.

THE END

Oh, and Thanksgiving was nice.

Midsemester Examination

Yes, dear blog readers, it is true that I have not blogged since the beginning of the first semester of my senior year. To make up for this horrible crime to humanity I will go over the highlights of my school year thus far, as well as the horrible lows like this past week of midsems. In other words, I will be examining and critiquing the first half of the semester, including my exams (see what I did with the title there. Clever right?

Near the beginning of the semester I got a very unexpected call from my friend Gwen, who I do not see nearly enough, inviting me to accompany her and Annie, to Grinnell’s water park. Did you know Grinnell has a water park? Because I didn’t. Now, when I say the tiny town of Grinnell has a water park you—with your possibly skewed view of Iowa—might imagine a slip-in-slide and a kiddy pool. I must say I was pleasantly surprised by the reality I found. It was no Universal or Disney water park, but it was quite decent. Two water slides, a relaxation pool (w/ a mild propellant so you could laze around on an inner tube), and a fairly large pool. One slide, which I was somehow tricked into going on, was almost completely vertical. Gwen went on it first, saying that it wasn’t as scary as it looked. I love Gwen, but LIES! It was terrifying. The other slide was more twisty, required an inner tube, and was much fun! Two people could go on it at once, so Gwen, Annie and I did every possible combination of sharing an inner tube or going solo. Apparently, I was the best partner. I guess Gigantor’s size propels trajectories in the best way possible. The day was full of sun, fun, stories, good friends and good times.

As long time readers know, I lamented the loss of my senior friends last year. Well, fortunately, not all of them are that far away. Friends Janna and Zach, in fact, live in Iowa City. Zach is in the process of getting his teaching certificate, and as part of that he must come to Grinnell almost every Wednesday. So, Janna suggested she could come along and spend time with me. Unfortunately, I work on Wednesday nights, but one night I played hooky so I could spend a couple hours with Janna! I must have been excited because, apparently, I sprinted down to greet her and let her into my dorm. We did our catching up and went out for Chinese food. Much better than working!

The other time I saw Janna and Zach was Oktoberfest 2010 in the Amana Colonies. Perri and I met up w/ Jach (Zanna?) in the afternoon, got ourselves some delicious potato pancakes (or as I like to call them, hash browns shaped like a pancake), and slowly made our way down to the Amana barn. At the barn, we listened to polka music, I somehow made my way through a 35oz mug of beer, and we ate German-type food. To top it off we observed the log sawing competition—though this time none of us sawed wood—and then got as much food to take home as possible with our budgets. By the end of the day I was exhausted, but satisfied.

As you must have noticed, this year 10-10-10 happened (October 10, 2010), however if you don’t go to Grinnell then you don’t comprehend how significant this was for our school. Every year there is the campus wide, highly coveted, traveling party: 10-10. For many this party means drinking till you have to go to the hospital, or until you get arrested. However, this year 10-10-10 meant having loads of fun and in moderation (the drinking, not the fun—oh you know what I mean)! The best part was 10-10-10 temporarily took my mind off the week of hell that would shortly follow it. To start the evening, Perri and I went out with a group of her friends for dinner at Lonnski’s Pub: a local bar with really good burgers. Second, Perri and I watched anime with Brett like we do almost every Saturday. Then, we headed out to the major event of the evening, the traditional campus wide shot. The only other time I made it to the shot was my first year with Emily, so needless to say it had heavy significance this year. Not that I’m mentioning the G word that must not be spoken. An unexpected treat was meeting up with our friend Ginny and coming back to her place after. We chatted and ate way too many animal crackers (not that there is such a thing), before I returned to my dorm and mentally prepared for...

Midsems were terrible this year (those who do not want to listen to complaining—well, you shouldn’t read this blog, but you certainly shouldn’t read this next part). The main source of stress was a very large presentation for Sociology of Health and Illness about HIV/AIDS. Everyone in the class has to present at some point during the semester, instead of a final term paper, however my presentation happened to fall on the same week as my mid-semester examinations. My talking partner, Hiba, is funnily enough one of the only other students at Grinnell who originated from Arlington, VA. So that was nice. I was also pretty happy about the topic, it just was not a good time for an hour-long class teaching session. Anyway, after weeks of diligent work and stress/anxiety it was over and it could have gone worse. There was little time for celebration though as I had two 5 page papers due Thursday (for the same class), two sit down tests for Friday on Religious Terms and Russian story characters (respectively), and a 5-10 page term paper for Abnormal psychology (that easily might be the worst piece of crap I have ever written). Not a week, or marathon of sleep deprivation, I want to relive.

Fortunately, Saturday marked freedom! Fall Break! No School! Grinnell, however, decided to give me one last gift before my plane ride…

My travels went fine timing-wise, however I was seated next to the most unfortunate travel partner for the 5am shuttle ride to the airport. My first mental title for him was Sir-has-no-concept-of-personal-space, until he did something even more pleasant. I noticed him bending over every so often and I assumed he was getting something from his backpack. Then, as I tried to drift off into sleep I smelled the exact smell you don’t want to have coming from someone sitting right next to you. ‘No’, I thought to myself, ‘he couldn’t have’. Sure enough, when we arrived at Des Moines International and the shuttle lights came on, I saw in the aisle…a puddle of vomit.

And with that pleasant note—goodbye for now…