Physical Education Department

This semester, when I showed up to my favorite bowling class (yes, Reed requires PE, and yes, I chose bowling) the instructor handed me a notice that drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes would no longer be permitted. Though I need this credit to graduate come May, I did not hesitate in my violent protest. Clearly, this was a violation of the very fundamentals of the "sport" and/or "activity" that is bowling. I mean, I chose this PE specifically knowing it was the only one available during which participants could actually GAIN weight. Much to my dismay, however, my cries were unheeded, and the rules remained.

In response to this travesty, I will voice my frustrations here and propose a various list of "sports" or "physical activities" that, though unavailable here, would certainly be tolerated at UG.

1. Catching Chocolate Chips in One's Mouth: MTuTh. Though participates do consume calories, the amount of physical exertion necessary for proper catching far out weights the miniscule trans fat of one chocolate chip. Mini-chocolate chips will also be avaliable.
2. Walking to and from bars, as oppose to driving. MTuWThFSaSu. Quite the obvious solution. Walking home might even count as a double PE credit, since  balancing on flat ground for a drunk probably equals that of a 13 year-old gymnast on a balance beam. Incidentally, I am the only UG faculty member to have exercised (pun) this option over winter break. Unfortunately, the circumstances under which this endeavor occurred are probably not the most agreeable, seeing as slapping one's boyfriend and running out of a karaoke bar probably are not common occurrences among UG campus members. Then again...
3. Cigarette Breaks. MTuWThFSaSu. Once again, this may seem counter-intuitive, but hear me out. In most situations, other than Club Bridge and the SoMoToHo, the outside of a venue usually requires significant movement and walking. Think of South Beach... Additionally, the physical movement of one's arm certainly must be working some muscle? Finally, all the French smoke, and they have the longest life expectancy in the world...
4. Shaken, Not Stirred. ThFSa. Using a shaker not only requires much larger physical movement than simply stirring a drink, but the dish washing necessary afterwards also burns cals. Not to mention, if I know UG campus members, using a shaker will probably lead to some sort of disaster involving spillage, in which case mopping and other sanitation activities would also require physical exertion.
5. Body Shots w/ Prof. Tim. MTuW. But only on air hockey tables. This also will have a conference portion for discussing who actually is exerting more effort out of the shot-er and shot-e.
6. Karaoke. WFSu. All songs must be hip-hop and a performance of both singing AND dancing is expected.
7. Grinding. Always.
8. ADVANCED: Learning the Dance to Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies." SSu. My personal favorite! This actually might cause a heart attack for most of us, but for those select few, the rewards are both obvious and boundless. For inspiration and demonstration click here.

Quarantined at the SoMoToHo (ie This is What Happens When I Post at 420)

Approximately a month ago, I came home from school and had a horrible winter cold. For the first weekend back I was too busy drinking and having 3-somes to notice that it was still hiding behind the veils of my mucus. Well, quelle surprise, the sickness re-emerged 3 days before my family vacation to the Third World.

In hopes of having me attend the vacation (likely) and successfully deliver his holiday gift baskets (more likely,) my dad prescribed me a set of antibiotics. I know this is not normal, and that one can grow a tolerance to such drugs and thereby make them ineffective, but I figured why not do it just this once! Plus, my dad seemed to think it was a good idea, even if blackmail for illegal unpaid labor was included in his logic(delivering gift baskets or going on family vacations, you pick.) So, I take the pills, and two days in I feel WONDERFULLY better! I immediately stop taking them, not realizing they're not the same thing as NyQuil, because now that I am well, why continue remembering to take pills.

Five days go by, and at dinner on the vacation my dad asks if I've finished my antibiotics. I casually say no, I have not. Then proceed to get a lecture about how you have to continue taking them. That night, before bed, I start them again.

Two days go by, I am on vacation, and clearly, I don't give a fuck! So duh, I forget about them again.

Now, four weeks after it all began, I am home and in pain. I am dead. I have sleept for a successful 48 hours, and have not left the house in 3 days. I did, today, go drink a $30 pitcher of margaritas, but I'm not really counting this because it was charity work. Best of all, my boyfriend is dressing like he's gay, single and ready to mingle in ~!@1~BARCELONA~1@!~ again... Strange things happen when you hibernate, but after all, isn't that what winter is all about?

Anyway, I am back on the antibiotics (which ironically don't seem to be working quite as well this time) and think I'm going to die. My mom is convinced I have developed a "Super Bug" and won't let me come home. I am currently writing this blog from Steven's mosquito-infested patio (thought I left malaria behind in Panama with the last antibiotic regime?) because I cannot stand Steven watching "My So Called Life" 24/7 as his passive-aggressive punishment for me being sick and forcing him to stay home and take care of me.

This is the part where you pray for me to get better!

Hope to see you guys on-campus again soon! I hear there may be a big party tomorrow night. GG never sleeps.

On being popular and unemployed...

The dictionary widget on the Dashboard of my MacBook Pro defines the word popular thusly: 

Liked, admired, or enjoyed by many people or by a particular person or group.

I don't mean to sound utterly conceited or anything when I say this, but I think I'm probably the most popular person I know. This is not to say that I don't know other people who are also quite popular and it also doesn't mean that there is no one who dislikes me. What it does mean is that I have a rather large circle of friends and acquaintances, any number of whom may be simultaneously vying for my attention and presence at their party, bar, or other venue in which twenty-somethings gather on any given night. It hasn't always been this way and I know better than to assume that it always will, but for the time being, this is my life and I am going to accept it. The problem, however, is that I can't be in multiple locations at one time, no matter how much I'd like to attend every event and hang out session with every wonderful and interesting person I'm privileged to call my friend. I try my best to juggle and spend at least a small amount of time in as many places as possible, so as to please everyone I can. Whether this is the recommended course of action, I am not certain. On occasion it can be quite fun, but other times, I find myself hardly enjoying anything because I'm constantly trying to make sure I fit everything in. Maybe my problem is that I try too hard to please everyone else, but at the same time, I'm doing it for myself. I aim to maximize the amount of fun I'm having at (almost) all costs. This is perhaps my top priority.

It seems like almost daily someone tells me that I am their favorite or that they love me because of something or other--whether it was something I said or did or wore or even something about me as a person that I didn't even consciously have anything to do with. This comes both from people I've known for years and people I've just met. Along that vein, it's not rare for me to have a new "best friend" at the end of the night, someone I had never seen or talked to when I arrived in that place. Honestly, I love this. Sometimes this new friendship only lasts the duration of our time together that night and then we never see each other again but other times we end up hanging out regularly. Either way, it's absolutely a wonderful feeling to know that another person finds you worth their time.

This popularity is something that I suppose has been evolving over the course of a couple of years now, starting when I was regularly throwing parties in my apartment in Berkeley, allowing friends and strangers alike to share the fun. A much more recent development in my life is my newly unemployed status. My previous work situation was never intended to be long-term and it eventually came to its end. I have mixed feelings about this, but mostly I am happy for a chance to explore something new. The difficulty here is that I don't know exactly what this "something new" will be. I have vague notions of things I might like to do, and much more definite ideas about things that I cannot and will not do, but it's hard to focus that into a concrete plan about what job I should pursue. I often try to think of how I can make money doing something that I love and would do regardless of getting paid. My latest thoughts have turned to figuring out how to transform my popularity among friends into some sort of career. How might one get paid to make friends, go to parties, drink at bars, etc.? It almost seems impossible, but I don't know if anything is actually impossible anymore. However, I hesitate in trying to find an answer to my question because others arise: Do I really want to turn what I do for fun into work? Would that make it less enjoyable for me? Would I then dread having to go out rather than not being able to wait until it's time to do so?

As we proceed into a brand new year, these are the issues I'm dealing with and hoping to resolve soon. There are other things too, of course, but these are at the front of my mind now. The days to come shall be interesting ones indeed.