My poor blog is just a tick of time away from being a neglected ginger child, because I only seem to remember it in the Summer. So here I am, paying it some due attention like a good mother would (God, if you’re listening, I should never be a real mother. Note: All my pets have either exploded or gone into severe depression). We mustn’t think on all the times I’ve blown off my writing for 30 Rock marathons, looking at cat pictures on the internet, and bouts of strenuous day drinking.
Let’s review my year, in a nutshell.
My summer thus far has consisted of being a hermit, taking a couple college classes at UAA, editing a film, Skyping with good friends, writing a screenplay, and avoiding all human contact (see above: hermit). I like to think of summer as my detox period where I unwind and reflect on my shitshow of a year, my third and by far most chaotic one at Trinity. So I’m going to break it down for you in bits that one might see in fortune cookies. I like condensed versions, because nobody really gives a shit about the ingredients, they just want the good stuff. So here we have our zen cookie bits of advice, based on my experiences of 2010-2011:
1. Just because they are Jello shots, doesn’t mean you can have 27 of them.
2. When a professor sends you a Gmail chat, it’s a little weird, but highly effective.
3. Sometimes they play Nickelback in the Student Commons. Sometimes I throw granola bars at the cashier lady while shouting, “CHANGE IT OR EVERYONE DIES.”
4. My little college in San Antonio got it’s first snowfall! This doesn’t normally happen. The Dean berates me for bargaining via e-mail to have a snow day, because being Alaskan means I’m a Yeti of sorts and I can “handle it.”
5. When the cooks at the dining hall throw leftover pizza in the trash at midnight before closing, I start seeing the beady eyes of starving children crying slow tears along to that Sarah McLachlan song. And this is why I know Aramark is the Anti-Christ.
6. Writing 15 page papers 4 hours before class is a great idea. But only if you’re a confident psychopath who likes playing College Roulette, which is essentially gambling your grade against your quick thinking, extensive vocabulary, bullshitting ability, energy drink abundance, and time management. This is the most terrifying and exhausting game, but to some, it’s a lifestyle. Kind of like Fight Club.
7. When you know you have no business being in a relationship – just don’t get into one. Don’t deal with ambiguity, don’t believe you’re invincible to outside interference, and don’t play with fire. Stay single and keep your crazy to yourself while you’re in your prime. We’re all human, and humans have earned the reputation among the Animal Kingdom of being the supreme fuckups, next to the Alpaca.
8. Parties and mixers start to lose their shine real quickly by this time. If I wanted to be blacked out and surrounded by a bunch of annoying, hyper-sexual, drunk people who smell like bad sex and cigarette smoke, I’d just go to colleg-… wait… shit.
9. I’m glad I was a socially aimless tool in high school, because it has served me well in college. All of my friends were the same way; we always thought Homecoming and Prom were the most pointless events ever, everybody who was a total shithead ended up going nowhere in life, Showtunes WERE cool, Mormon kids were creepy, and sports can only get you so far. In college, theatre kids really are the best, and all those jocks and Aberzombies who peaked in high school are always the most annoying people at good parties, and discussion-based classrooms. “The Diary of Lisa Frank” is not a Holocaust document, darling, it’s a 4th grade notebook with rainbow cheetahs on it.
10. No one-person is capable of writing, directing, shooting, and editing a film all by themselves without developing a severe anxiety problem, acute agoraphobia, alcoholism, irreversible insomnia, or night terrors of being filmed eating lunch by a large cat with a monocle. Even though I’m proud of the work I’ve put into Rapture Police, I will not do a feature alone ever again. It even made me rethink being a director. I think I may just stick to writing and producing. The night terrors? Still happening, bro.
11. Even though I abuse the modern terminology, being a bona fide troll is hard work. I fucked shit up. But I did get a 15 day paper extension and a delicious cupcake out of it. (Meister Tonberry, anyone?)
12. I never thought I’d be in a sorority, because I simply don’t feel that I ever fit that stereotype – but my sorority is just the absolute best. Despite some differences that have come up, I ultimately just adore this shitshow of a group for being my backbone. They are some of the most confident, honest, bright, free-spirited girls I’ve ever met and my college experience would have been very plain without them. I’m pissed as a bitch that some of my favorite girls have graduated, however – and no, I’m not letting that go.
13. Bossypants by Tina Fey is one of the few books I’ve read cover to cover in under a week. I just loved that book, and now I want Tina Fey to be my mom. But if she can’t do that – then I’m petitioning to get her to speak at my college for either a lecture series or my own commencement. For as much as I pay to go to Trinity, I think it’s the least they could do after charging me for cheese on my omelets, thus causing me to have a nervous breakdown. It’s the least you could do, TriniStaff.
14. I’m over it. San Antonio is cool and everything, but I’m just over it. I’m ready to graduate and get that $200,000 piece of paper so I can move to Los Angeles and prove to people that I am worthy because I went to the same school as Barney the Dinosaur and one of the Charlie’s Angels. We also have a penis tower and a sensually suggestive YouTube video of our Dean. Not impressed? We caused a scene in public and auctioned off slaves in front of high school prospectives in order to promote a comedy show. Our campus security turned into a police troupe over night, which makes them much scarier in real life. Still not amazed? Well fuck it, I didn’t want to work for you dweebs, anyway.
15. Paula Deen’s voice is alarmingly soothing during finals week. Intense study sessions and days of sleep deprivation caused my brain to become temporarily overheated. So instead of drinking tea and laying on a hammock to calm myself like a normal human being, my bloodshot eyes stared at my computer screen while I played videos of Paula Deen’s cooking show, and somehow I was as tranquil as a baby lamb. Just hearing that woman’s soft southern twang as she is instructing me how to make potroast with mayashed putatuz was like valium for my soul. Thank you Paula Deen, for making finals season more tolerable for college students, and for making me hate myself because I don’t know how to cook anything. Thank you.
So that’s basically it. Those are my 15 fortune cookies for 2010-2011. More things happened in between – important things – but I’m sure I’m far too lazy to think of them or I’ve purposefully blocked those memories out. Now, if you don’t mind, I am going to finish Season 4 of 30 Rock for the 80th time. Happy Memorial Day tomorrow. May we hopefully remember everything…