Sunday, December 31, 2006

End of 2006

The sun doesn't go down, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round

Rants about the flaws of "resolutions" are tired. I don't make them, that's all you need to know.

What I do make, however, is a list of things to look forward to. Not necessarily goals, just wishes, hopes, things to aspire to should I feel so inclined. It's much more optimistic and way less stressful.

In the spirit of closure, here's last year's list, with some commentary that may or may not be worth reading.

A list of things I hope to pass in 2006:

- Dean's list (why break the streak?)Failure. School and I speak only on a need-to-know basis these days
- Internship (so I can be a bigger fangirl)
Success! Q101 and 97.9 The Loop done right by me
- Get an apartment (No more nagging)
Success! And this place is pretty freaking sweet, not gonna lie.
- Boyfriend (as always)
Success! A shocking one that's actually going to be approaching a year soon. Weird.
- My birthday ("Twenty-ooooonnne!")
Success? Hopefully reaching one's next birthday isn't cause fortoo much celebration
- Linda to go to Northwestern (so I can brag)
Failure. Sad, perhaps, but I think she's pretty happy at Wesleyan, so I won't begrudge her that
- 6-pac abs (I can dream)
Failure. Surprise!
- LBC's new album to come out ("Poo-York City!")
Success! Poo York City indeed!
- Kick major ass at Nationals (or at least not come in dead-last)
Success! I actually went into quarter finals in the top 6 in "being funny with a point". I rule.

That's a 66% rate of success, and if we throw out the ludicrous (abs), it's a 75% success rate.

I haven't given a whole lot of thought about what my wish list for 2007 will entail, that is a list for tomorrow. For now, all I can say is that I'm almost panicky with the hope of no major life altering surprises.

Until then,

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Winter Funk

Gray skies make being stressed out a lot harder to deal with. If it was sunny, I could think "well, at least it's a pretty day" and spend a precious second or two admiring the blue sky. Alas, I am stuck with boring, snow-less clouds.

Even though I'm now 21 years old, an adult in every legal way possible, it never occurred to me that people might ask me to buy booze for them. For future reference kids, the answer is first, "are you kidding?" followed quickly by a "no". I may have my flaws, but contributing to the delinquency of minors isn't one of them.

Have you ever seriously thought about what would happen if you (or your girlfriend) got pregnant? I contemplated this during health class in Sophomore year after some girl's drastic proclamations of "my dad would kill me!". Recently I gave some thought about how it would affect my actual life. Babies are totally scary, think about it a little.

I don't think I've ever been less excited to go to a concert in my entire life, including the Coldplay concert I was forced to attend during my internship. Instead of thinking "OMG LBC!" like I should be, I'm thinking "I have to be at work at 10:30 tomorrow morning". I'm getting boring in my old age. Time to break a hip for some perspective.

Winter Funk,

Friday, December 22, 2006

Berlin, Christmas, worries

Don't want to be here in the future

It's been approximately two and a half days since I returned from what I'm thinking about calling "Sausage Fest 2006", because I love subtle innuendo where it has no place. I talked myself hoarse while narrating my pictures to dad and Linda, and discussed the differences in restaurant culture with a manager at work and I'm already trying to find different topics of conversation. I'm going to give myself until Christmas to talk and/or gush about my trip, and after that I'm going to try to move on. No one likes the annoying kid who begins every anecdote with "Well, when I was in (insert exotic and exciting locale)...". Like band camp stories, but not quite as lame.

When I was in Berlin, Germany...
...I had to pay 2 euro 50 cents for 8 ounces of water at restaurants
...I spoke a good deal of a German/English hybrid, and am still having problems speaking/reading in English-only
...a large bird escaped from the zoo which required Politzei on bicycles with nets to yell "HALT!" at pedestrians
...I saw a lot of really depressing, but really, really cool places and buildings one would apologize if they ran into you while walking
...I smuggled a half dozen little packets of single-serving Nutella over the border
...the Reichstag (parliment building) went on lockdown while we were on a tour
...the Lostprophets rocked out and I chatted up two members of The Blackout
...some girls and I got stranded a couple miles away from our hotel mere hours away from when we were supposed to leave for the airport due to false promises of a 24 hour train system
...I really, really, really missed people here
I've never been entirely sure that I understand what "jetlag" is or feels like, but I do know that my body has never, ever woken itself up naturally at 7:30am, especially when my only obligation of the day starts at 5:30pm.

This Christmas is going to be a really lean one, at least on my end. The money situation is kind of dire and so my gifts for the very, very immediate family are super lame and somewhat inexpensive. I'm aware that it's "the thought that counts" but I still feel like a bad loved-one, even though I did put an excruciatingly large amount of thought into the gifts.

"Sexy Back" is my latest guilty pleasure.

Making a cake with one of my favorite people on the planet was one of the best belated birthday gifts I could have hoped for. The cake is delicious and the company was, as always, fabulous and reminded me that I don't see her nearly enough. I guess one of the bright sides of Alex running away to a big, fancy university is that I might see ol' Shiny Hair more often.

This entry is pretty long and somewhat pointless, but just one more thing before I peace out: Is it better to pretend that the inevitable isn't going to happen in less than a month, or is it better to worry about it because it is, well, inevitable? Fears about the near future have been slightly assuaged by a somewhat offhand comment about the far future, but make neither point in time any less scary.

Bust a move,

Thursday, December 14, 2006


Ich liebe dich sehr, und bin glücklich mit dir

Sportfreunde Stiller is my current obsession, along with trying to find an authentic "Berliner", ala JFK's fatal "Ich bin ein Berliner" mistake, before I head back to America.

My 21st birthday was one to remember, and I mean that in all possible ways to interpret that phrase. We toured the bomb shelter bunkers underneath Berlin, saw a two mile stretch of the Berlin Wall, drank the best Milchkaffees ever, and then I went out to an Egyptian restaurant with some of my new trip friends. I was buzzed after one glass of white wine, and annoyingly tipsy after two, so I called it a night. I suppose I am what one could call a "lightweight".

So I logged onto facebook this evening to be greeting with the group invitation "In loving memory of Mr. Scheidecker". It's a hell of a way to find out someone died, let me tell you. I'm still in a little bit of shock, I think, because I don't feel upset or sad yet. I'm sure it'll sink in when I'm trying to sleep, though. It's a bit strange when someone whom you've been holding a grudge against passes away. It's not like I'm remotely glad Mr. Scheidecker is dead, although he is the man responsible for making me notice every time someone uses the redundant phrase "reason why", I'm just trying to figure out if it's wrong not to be immediately reduced to tears about it.

I'm really wishing I was home. I can't tell if Berlin is getting old, or I'm just really homesick. Maybe if I had more money I'd feel like there were still lots of options available for me to experience here. Ah, well. We've had a good run, Berlin and I. I'd just like to get back to the boy, family, friends, bed, and life.

Being away for so long essentially by yourself makes a lot of things more clear.

RIP Shy,

(PS: I would have made a lousy team captain anyway)

Sunday, December 10, 2006


Always a godmother, never a god.

No, I'm not dead, just far, far away. Lost in a strange land where the "z" key is where the "y" key should be and vice versa, where the symbols are arranged all willy nilly, and I can type letters like ö, ä, ü, and ß with the press of a single button.

Berlin is fabelhaft, and I can't really explain in the few short minutes I have for the internet how great it really is. I'm staying on the equivilant of Michigan Avenue, and just a short U-bahn ride away from the amazingly stereotypical culture of former East Berlin. I'm taking a good number of pictures, some of buildings, some of me making strange faces, and some of me making strange faces in front of buildings.

I've never really been all that aware of the fact that I'm "American" mostly because in, well, America, it's not even an issue. Here, however, it's the only thing that I'm being defined and classified by, and I'm suddenly extremely aware of it. I'm intrigued by the German's sense of history and the importance of preserving it, rather than washing it away as humiliation or disgrace. I'm hopelessly fashionless, and apparently unintelligable when trying to speak to the Deutschen in their native Sprache.

I'm homesick and a little lonely, but I keep reminding myself that this might be the only time I ever get to see these things, to have this experience, so I'm sucking it up like an androgynous man in lederhosen and a santa hat, a sight for only the strong of heart.

Ich hab' dich sooooo.... lieb,