Use the phrase "smacks of" more often. but not in a dirty way.
Okay, maybe in a dirty way.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Friday, April 22, 2005
S.P.I.E.S.
Today, a full day early, my Alpha Phi Omega Clue Week came to an end. It caught me completely off-guard because I was expecting another day of clue week. We were lined up to hear the results of our scavenger hunt when our bigs came up behind us as a surprise. I was pleasantly not-so-surprised to find Dan Dodge behind me. He'd been my A-Big for pledging and at the Matoaka social I said my memory was finding out how cool Dan Dodge really was. I really had no idea until my clue with him, when he told Alex and Amanda how cool their bigs were, and when I asked, he hesitated for a second, and then told me he is "pretty cool... Actually, he's the coolest guy I know." Thankfully, no one gave it away, not even Amanda, my twin who knew about our big the whole time.
And so, as of about 5:00 today, I am now a proud member of the Secretive People Ill-bred, Enough Said APO family, or S.P.I.E.S for short.
And so, as of about 5:00 today, I am now a proud member of the Secretive People Ill-bred, Enough Said APO family, or S.P.I.E.S for short.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Sullen Contrariness with Little Provocation
A new era of Andrew-centered ridicule began today as Daniel came across a website detailing the symptoms ofPassive-Aggressive Personality Disorder. Originally intended for our friend Christina, Daniel quickly applied everything mentioned on the site to me, citing specific examples this year. While I can't exactly deny a lot of these connections, it's still irritating to be labeled with a personality disorder I don't actually think I have. What's much worse, though, is that I know that this will lead to more and more instances of making fun of me, and when those instances elicit an emotional reaction out of me, they'll immediately be attributed to being passive-aggressive and then quickly dismissed. This will not be a happy transition phase.
On a related note, is it passive-aggressive to bitch about this in a blog that I know Daniel will eventually read? You're damn right it is.
On a related note, is it passive-aggressive to bitch about this in a blog that I know Daniel will eventually read? You're damn right it is.
Hair-piphany
I think I know why people are only know starting to notice my two-week-old haircut; it looked shitty and only now looks good enough for people to "notice" and then compliment it without lying.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Send Me On My Way
I’d had it all planned out – I was going to be so smooth, surprising Mama Betsy. Every Thursday, Mama Betsy waits for all of us to get out of class and meet her at the UC for a 10:15 breakfast. Every Thursday, though, we always take forever to get there, and she is usually done before we get there. Today, on the other hand, was going to be different. I was going to be at the UC right at ten, so she and I could have breakfast together. There was really no reason for me to wait until 10:15 every week, and it would be a nice surprise for her. I got my ID, plugged in my iPod and listened to Rusted Root’s “Send me on my way” as I went.. on my way.
Halfway down the road, I half-noticed a man on a bike trudging up the road with his toddler son strapped in a backseat. He seemed to be doing an all right job.. that is, until the bike toppled sideways, causing the man to slam into the asphalt with a loud thud. It was a rather peculiar fall, as the man didn’t try to break his fall at all. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice the bike was off balance until he was up-close-and-personal with the ground. I was about thirty feet away, and by the time I got there, he was standing up and tending to his son, who was crying very loudly. They both looked just fine, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he was okay, so I did. He didn’t look at me and instead cared for his son. I got the feeling that I was embarrassing him. It was understandable; he had fallen very goofily. I almost left him there, but I decided I could at least wait for an answer, even a shamed one. I asked him again, and he just looked at me and hesitated, breathing heavily. I asked if I should go get help – I thought I was prompting him to say no and send me on my way; the baby was fine now and he looked like he was all right. However, he started breathing more heavily and replied, “Actually, yeah, could you get someone?” I immediately went to the UC and they called emergency services to help the guy. I went back to talk to him before they arrived. His name was Scott, and he just had a bit of trouble breathing after the fall. He was thoroughly embarrassed once a police car, a fire engine, and an ambulance showed up. It looked like my role was over, so I said bye, and he thanked me “for stopping.” I went on my way, at this point way too late to surprise Mama Betsy, and the lady at the UC counter thanked me as I walked by, “for stopping.” It made me happy and sad at the same time. I felt happy because I felt like a good person. I had done an honest to goodness good deed. It made me sad, though, because it meant that asking someone if s/he is all right after a nasty spill on the asphalt passes for a good deed.
When I finally walked into the dining area, Mama Betsy was nowhere to be found. She showed up late, after I had eaten breakfast alone. It makes me feel like it was fate – like helping that man was the real reason I was “Sen[t] … on my way.”
Halfway down the road, I half-noticed a man on a bike trudging up the road with his toddler son strapped in a backseat. He seemed to be doing an all right job.. that is, until the bike toppled sideways, causing the man to slam into the asphalt with a loud thud. It was a rather peculiar fall, as the man didn’t try to break his fall at all. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice the bike was off balance until he was up-close-and-personal with the ground. I was about thirty feet away, and by the time I got there, he was standing up and tending to his son, who was crying very loudly. They both looked just fine, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he was okay, so I did. He didn’t look at me and instead cared for his son. I got the feeling that I was embarrassing him. It was understandable; he had fallen very goofily. I almost left him there, but I decided I could at least wait for an answer, even a shamed one. I asked him again, and he just looked at me and hesitated, breathing heavily. I asked if I should go get help – I thought I was prompting him to say no and send me on my way; the baby was fine now and he looked like he was all right. However, he started breathing more heavily and replied, “Actually, yeah, could you get someone?” I immediately went to the UC and they called emergency services to help the guy. I went back to talk to him before they arrived. His name was Scott, and he just had a bit of trouble breathing after the fall. He was thoroughly embarrassed once a police car, a fire engine, and an ambulance showed up. It looked like my role was over, so I said bye, and he thanked me “for stopping.” I went on my way, at this point way too late to surprise Mama Betsy, and the lady at the UC counter thanked me as I walked by, “for stopping.” It made me happy and sad at the same time. I felt happy because I felt like a good person. I had done an honest to goodness good deed. It made me sad, though, because it meant that asking someone if s/he is all right after a nasty spill on the asphalt passes for a good deed.
When I finally walked into the dining area, Mama Betsy was nowhere to be found. She showed up late, after I had eaten breakfast alone. It makes me feel like it was fate – like helping that man was the real reason I was “Sen[t] … on my way.”
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Yes, Miss Lanigan
Tonight, I had a wonderful exercise in regression. Tiffany is getting her degree in education and has to present a biology lesson to fourth graders. She was really nervous about it, so she got us all together tonight to present her lesson to us. In order to really give off the school atmosphere, we were told to act like fourth graders, which we did in spades. We talked out of turn, we didn’t listen, we did stupid stuff – everything fourth graders would do, and more.
We doodled on our papers, and we made faces at each other, and worst of it was when Tiffany passed around a spray bottle to water our lima beans. We went a little overboard on that one, especially with Carling.
Ahh, good times, bad memories. It was nice to do that, for several reasons. First, it was nice just to remember what it was like back then. I started drawing on my paper and I immediately flashed back to doodling in elementary school. I remembered the angular s and the weird chessboard thingy, which I’ve recreated here for you.
Second, it was refreshing to take on a role I didn’t play as a child. I used to be the teacher’s pet/ cry baby (Who would have imagined?), but this time, I was the troublemaker. Tiffany made me sit up front with her, I was such a nuisance. It was a lot of fun. I wish I had gotten into trouble more often in fourth grade.
- Me: Miss Lanigan, I want to write on the board next
- Sarah: Miss Lanigan, don’t let Mike write on the board. He’s too stupid to write.
- Me: No, you’re the stupid one.
- Sarah: No YOU are.
- Carling: You two be nice and get along. Right Miss Lanigan?
- Miss Lanigan: Yes, Carling. They should get along.
- Sarah: Teacher’s pet!
- Carling: Am not!
- Me: Are too!
- Katie: Miss Lanigan, Mike won’t stop kicking my chair
- Mike: I’m not doing anything!
- Katie: Yes, he is! He’s kicking my chair.
- Me: Miss Lanigan, they’re in love.
- Rich: Yeah! Katie and Mi-ike, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
- Miss Lanigan, I lost my lima bean.
We doodled on our papers, and we made faces at each other, and worst of it was when Tiffany passed around a spray bottle to water our lima beans. We went a little overboard on that one, especially with Carling.
Ahh, good times, bad memories. It was nice to do that, for several reasons. First, it was nice just to remember what it was like back then. I started drawing on my paper and I immediately flashed back to doodling in elementary school. I remembered the angular s and the weird chessboard thingy, which I’ve recreated here for you.
Second, it was refreshing to take on a role I didn’t play as a child. I used to be the teacher’s pet/ cry baby (Who would have imagined?), but this time, I was the troublemaker. Tiffany made me sit up front with her, I was such a nuisance. It was a lot of fun. I wish I had gotten into trouble more often in fourth grade.
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