Doin' Work.

I feel like the whole library knows that I'm listening to my NSYNC Pandora station. Little do they know it's the only thing that keeps me sane as I edit my Division Two contract. That and chocolate covered pretzels. Do you think I can do a chair dance to "Lady Marmalade" without anyone noticing? Too late, doing one now.

The only reason I'm editing my Div 2 contract is because it's my last semester before Div 3 and I need to make some changes to this thing so it actually reflects what I spent these past two years doing. Apparently I thought I was going to study psychology? Weird. Anyways, I pretty much know what I want my Div 3 to be now, which is so exciting and a major relief because there was a substantial period of time where I didn't. I also have one pretty much guaranteed committee member who has already given me some great advice for what I want to do.

Now if only I could secure a nice internship for the summer, everything would be even better.

Adventures in Homecoming

I feel really displaced here. Like, it's good to be back but so many little things changed when I was away. Like, the bus schedule is different. The buses used to go to Amherst on the :10 and :40, but now they're on the :20 and :50. The Amherst Brewing Company moved. There are all these new people on campus I don't know. I almost walked into my old mod yesterday. My new mod is nice and my room is pretty sizable, but I'll always miss the closeness I felt last year. Even though that closeness was hard a lot of the time, I felt like I was part of a family. It's nice to have peace and quiet where I live now, because I definitely got none of that last year, and my new modmates have been really welcoming, but I've only been back for two days and they've gone by very slowly. I also have to figure out my Div 3 soon, and I'm just completely lost about it.

I'm sitting in one of my favorite coffee places now, trying to write cover letters but mostly just blogging. I just sent one to Penguin though. We'll see how that goes. Maybe sometime soon I'll write something funny here, or compile a list of my favorite "Shit ____ Say" videos or talk about which books I decided to take to college in the end. But right now I just feel kind of uprooted and like I'm trying to get to know someone I haven't seen in a while who's different but I can't put my finger on how.

Packing Books

It has occurred to me, through a few friends pointing it out, that saying "I'm not a crazy person" twice in a cover letter does in fact make you look like a crazy person.

Today, I'm trying to pack for the spring semester. I'm leaving the house at 9am tomorrow. I found my tea kettle which is a huge relief. I need to look for my comforter next. I also should probably figure out what books to bring. Realistically, I won't read a lot of them or any of them. I don't have time to read for pleasure when I'm in school. I'm not happy about this, but it's life. When I have time off from the dense readings that my professors assign me, all I want to do is look at pictures of dogs on Tumblr or watch SVU on Netflix. Reading passages from "Atonement" is more of a summertime activity, when I'm craving intellectual stimulation in the midst of doing nothing.

I think most college students bring books with them (I'm talking about books that they have not been assigned for a course) in hopes to appear more interesting to visitors. It's a big deal when someone comes to your dorm room for the first time, even if the visit is strictly platonic. You don't want to look dumb. At least I don't. I try to arrange my books accordingly. But I'm also comforted when I'm surrounded by books. One of my favorite places to work on campus is in the stacks of the library. There's something about that sort of engulfment that makes me feel more productive.

...I just got up and went around my room looking for books to take with me, I currently have 12. No, wait, 13. I forgot "The Hunger Games" on my nightstand. My sister told me to read it. It's actually pretty great, I'm about halfway through. I'm looking for this other book about Northern Ireland that I think could be useful to have around as a European Studies slash English slash Public History major. If I can't find it I'll order it used on Amazon.

Right. I'd better get back to packing.

A Cover Letter I Wish I Could Write

Dear (Potential Employer but most likely Assistant to a higher up)

My name is Lisa Warren, and I want to be your summer intern. Great, now we both know that. Truth is, I hate writing cover letters and you probably hate reading them too. You've probably got Tumblr or something open in another tab right now, just like me. So I won't waste our time.

Why you should hire me as a summer intern

-I'm not a crazy person

-I'm fluent in Starbucks

-I know how to make data entry not suck (Podcasts)

-I believe I have the traits of someone who works in publishing. I'm a registered Democrat, an organ donor, an English and History major, a liberal-intellectual Jew but I'm more spiritual than religious, and I don't have a Kindle.

-I will work really hard

-I learn things quickly

-I love books

-I know how to use a copy machine

-I'm not a crazy person

I hope you will consider me for this position, and I think I would make you proud.

Sincerely,
Lisa Warren

I'm BAAAAAAACK

HEY EVERYONE

I'm back after a long, long hiatus. Said hiatus was due to me being in London and keeping up a separate blog while there (semesterinlondontown.tumblr.com), and being unable to keep up with two blogs at once.

But I'm back now, and I've been home for about a week. My time at home has mainly consisted of a trip into New York where I got too jet lagged to stay at a party I went there for, half-heartedly cleaning my closet, and looking for paid publishing internships for the summer (that's an oxymoron, I'm learning)

I do miss London a lot, and it's seeped into me more than I had thought it would. I call New York subway stations "tube stops" and say I need to "top up" my Metrocard. But beyond public transportation, I can't get through a day without having some kind of second lunch ("tea") at 4pm and I call things "brilliant" a lot. People tell me I'll go back, and I believe them. But when I go back I want to do it right. I want to get a work visa and a job and a flat and really LIVE there. I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about how great it would be if my kid had a British accent someday. There is NOTHING more adorable than a toddler who says "Mummy."

I go back to Hampshire in ten days though, and I'm really excited. I heard it through the grapevine that people actually miss me when I'm not there. I'm not used to being missed. I do most of the missing usually, it seems. More and more I realize that Hampshire is the place I was meant to end up at. We had a weird start, but now it's home. It was home when I was in London (though I think I could make London my home someday) and it's definitely home when I'm at either of my parents' houses. I can't wait to go back.

London bound!

I'm leaving tomorrow to go to London for the semester, and if I weren't so tired from all the planning that's been going on this past week, I'd be more articulate about it right now.

I have until about 6pm tomorrow to finish my packing, then it's off to the airport where I will probably do a little more crying and get on the plane, where I will attempt to sleep for a few hours but will be lucky if I sleep for ten minutes. Then I'll get to Heathrow, which is the cleanest place I've ever been in that isn't a hospital, certainly the cleanest place I've ever been in that doesn't have trash cans. I'll take the shuttle bus to campus, and then I'll probably say I should get to the pub and meet some people who will potentially become my lifelong friends, but I'll most likely pass out while I'm getting dressed.

I've wanted to do this for years. Study abroad in London, that is. Something about it has always drawn me. I can't wait to just be settled there.

I'll be keeping another blog during the next few months, documenting my time abroad. Don't know how this one will hold up, but I might pop in every now and then to ramble about things not England-related. But you should read my London blog (http://semesterinlondontown.tumblr.com/) even if it's just because you like the layout. I deliberated a long time on that.

Come on, Irene too loo-rye-ay

At this moment, I'm in my bed waiting for the apocalypse. I mean Hurricane Irene. But all the news stations are making this look like the end of days.

Northern Westchester isn't in any of the evacuation zones, but we've filled the bathtub with water and stocked up on canned food anyway. I have so many books for when the power goes out. But it's hard to imagine anything now. It's eerily calm and quiet. Kind of like that scene in Carrie right before the hand shoots out of the grave. No one likes a tease, Irene. Give us some rain and gusts of wind so we can all stop waiting around.

All I want is for the storm to pass so I can get focusing on my next thing to wait for. I'm flying out to London on September 23rd. I'm a little nervous because I'm going on a red eye and I can't sleep on planes. Also because I'm worried I won't make any friends. I feel like a kid on her first day of middle school when I type that. At least I don't have a Trapper Keeper and haven't been to an orthodontist in years. But my hair still frizzes out a lot. Who am I kidding, I'll always be somewhat of an awkward middle schooler.

What I do know that is that I would be very unhappy and bored going back to Hampshire for this semester. It's time for a break. I'll miss all my friends dearly, as well as the cider donuts and packed mod dance parties and even the smell of cow farts wafting onto campus, but it's time for another adventure.

Bucket Lists

Before I came to New York for the summer, I made a bucket list of what I wanted to do here this summer. I have nine days left and I've only crossed off two of those things. Somehow, I'm okay with that.

Those two things, in case you were wondering, were seeing the McQueen exhibit at The Met (kind of like a rush hour subway but with couture and the Schindler's List theme playing on loop in one part) and doing karaoke. They were really great, but honestly not the highlights of my summer. I've realized that when you're so focused on crossing things off a list, you miss out on other things that are happening around you, like ordering pizza at 11:45 pm on a weeknight in the park with your friends, as surprise Bastille Day fireworks go off on the river. Or swing dancing in Lincoln Center. Or making friends on fire escapes.

I think I'm abandoning bucket lists forever, starting now. They're stressful and keep you on a straight path, when you could be looking around and taking detours. I would burn the one that I made, but I don't want to set off the smoke alarm and I'm not one for theatrics anyway. But I will rip it up and throw it away. Because while I only crossed two things off of it, it's still been a great summer.

Things I've learned in New York so far

I've been here for nearly two weeks now and it's been pretty great, apart from a few unexpected boring nights that I end up feeling oddly guilty about because I'm in the most exciting city in the world and therefore should be doing something terribly exotic and wonderful all the time. But I'll get over that soon hopefully. My internship is actually pretty awesome. I haven't had to go on any coffee runs for other people yet, but I did have to file some things once. Mostly I write press releases and research blogs that will review books the company has published.

This is kind of a big summer for me since it's my first one living completely away from home, without any kind of adult supervision like camp counselors etc. So I thought it would be good to make a list of what I've learned.

-When a dude catcalls you on the street, pretend you don't hear him. If this is not an option, tell him you have a boyfriend who is very protective, weighs 300 pounds of pure muscle, and also happens to be Eastern Europe's top cage fighter. This is kind of hilarious to people who know that the guys I usually fancy tend to be smaller than me and won't even dare kill spiders in the bathroom. But Mr. Caneyehaveyonumbuh doesn't need to know that.

-It's completely hilarious to watch tourists reading maps, and it's nice to convince yourself you'll never need one, but the second you walk a block in the wrong direction and have to awkwardly turn your lost ass around, or when you're trying to find that one little coffee shop in the village that got five stars on Yelp and all you see are upscale clothing stores, you'll wish you had the ability to swallow your pride and get a map.

-The cops you see on SVU and the ones that circle the park at night and yell at you and your friends through a megaphone to leave at 1am sharp are completely different species.

-The only train that goes to your 116th street is the 1. The 3 says it goes to 116th, and it does, but it's not the one where you live. You will get off the subway and find yourself on 116th street and "the hood where you don't belong" avenue.

-You might like the Meatpacking district because it's got wide cobblestone streets and cute restaurants and stores, but so does everyone else. You'll find that you're the only person there with no product in their hair who didn't put her makeup on with a paintroller. However, it is always fun to get an outside table at one of those trendy-cause-they're-delicious restaurants, eat a fancy grilled cheese, and watch sixteen year olds in cocktail napkin dresses try to get into clubs with their fake IDs.

-No one here has time to judge you for going to a movie alone.

-But if you eat alone, it's fine to feel so awkward that you pretend to read a book.

-The people at Pinkberry will always try to guide you through all their options even though you go there every week and the same guy who's trying to tell you how to order swirled you your second lunch last Wednesday.

-Try and not be too creepy when you go to dog parks sans dog and pet other people's dogs.

I'll be adding to this list more as the summer goes on. I'm on a quest for some food right now.

I'm in New York now!

I feel completely apologetic for the lack of entries. Does anyone actually read this? What happened was that I got totally swept up in the wave of final papers, and just became an essay writing machine for a while. I realize that feeling guilty for neglecting your blog is a total first world problem, but it's kind of how I've been feeling. I started this thing to encourage me to write more often, and I haven't really done that.

But I digress. What I really wanted to write here is that I've moved into a cozy (that's a euphemism) room at the International House at Columbia University in New York. As you can see, I've got a sweet view of Riverside Church. I've been completely wiped all day, and I definitely forgot some things at home, but it's good to be here. I took a walk tonight and found a bookstore a few blocks from me that's open until 11pm, plays punk music, and has chairs for reading. It's nice to be somewhere that shares my sleep schedule.

I don't start my internship until the 15th so I've got some time here to just wander and get my bearings. It's my first time living in New York, and there's so much to do I feel myself going just a little bit crazy already. I passed at least ten restaurants tonight that I want to eat at (I'm becoming my mother. Food is everything.) and that's just within a ten block radius of my dorm room. That place where they always ate on Seinfeld is here. It looks almost the same as it does on the TBS reruns I watched in my living room this past year.

I'll write more later. Now I need to get into bed with the book I got in preparation for my semester in London this fall. It's called "The Anglo Files" by Sarah Lyall. I need to know what I'm getting myself into.

In which I find meaning in 90s teen dramas

Lately I've been watching "My So-Called Life" on Netflix Instant. I probably vowed at one point in my life that I'd never watch it, because I found Claire Danes so annoying or something, but I caved inexplicably and now I just wish that I had found it when I was in high school. The show is structured around Angela Chase's (Claire Danes) inner monologue (kind of like what Zach Braff did on "Scrubs" but takes itself a lot more seriously.) The things she says are just the kind of things teenagers say when they think they've earned the right to be world-weary. But I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. It makes those times when she's happy all the more poignant, actually. Like there's this scene where she's in the car with Jordan Catalano, who's played by Jared Leto and is totally dreamy and lazy and doesn't give a damn. Also he wears a lot of flannel and doesn't talk too much. Anyways, the voiceover says something about that moment when you feel like your life is about to change, and you can feel everything turning around for the better.

As much as I hate relating to a 90s teen drama, I'm kind of having a moment like that right now.

In the past two days, I've landed a summer internship in New York and an official spot (with classes and everything) for the fall semester at Goldsmiths College in London. It's been a weird awakening that I live in a world where good things happen to me, and I'm a little worried that I'm going to get hit by a PVTA bus soon. When I was in high school, I didn't think I had what it took to live a life by my own standards. I lived for other people, and resigned myself to the supposed fact that I wasn't wired to get what I wanted. Lately (even as I type this) I'm feeling vibrations in the air because things are finally turning around and reshifting. I'm going to spend this summer in New York and next fall in London. It sort of feels like I shouldn't get to say that, like those are things that more fortunate people get to say and do. But then I realize that this is my life, and I do get to say those things because shit is finally coming together.

Library, 7:25 pm on a Friday night

I wish I could stop feeling so self-conscious about having no intention to leave this place for a while. My mod is about as as messy as my head, and the library is clean and neat. The fluorescent lighting feels institutional in a good way. I don't know if there are any parties happening tonight, and I don't really want to go to them. It's not that I'm becoming a homebody, because I plan on going dancing every night when I'm in London next semester, I think I'm just over Hampshire parties for a while. They're crowded and full of people I don't know. Also it's awkward when I do see someone I know and it's too loud to talk to them. If I see someone I don't know in the library, it's okay to share a table as long as you mind your own business. My headphones are helping me out with that. I'm listening to music from the 90s that I vaguely remember.

Thank goodness I've got nothing planned for tomorrow. The past two days have just been packed. I am so ready to spend the whole day at Amherst Coffee with my laptop and just work on this midterm I have due Tuesday. Hopefully I can knock it out in one day. But it's for a psych class, and I'm really getting sick of it. So much of it is too open-ended, which is good but I can't say I'm not relieved to have my history class right after this one every time. It's like I go from "what is power? we don't know" to "this is an event. this is what happened because of that event." Very refreshing. History is fascinating, and I like that it has a balance of theory and extrapolating, as well as concrete facts. There is so much resilience in it as well. Events that happened so long ago are still present in discourse because people worked hard to preserve the records of these events. It just reeks of passion.

Writing all this makes me even less excited about this psych midterm paper. When will I learn that psych courses at Hampshire=endless theory or endless neuroscience? Probably never.

Live from the Maho Bay Cyber Hut

Good Lord. Last time I was here I was bitching about the mistreatment of an Israeli soldier on campus, now I'm in a cyber hut at an eco-resort in the Caribbean, at which going on Facebook or Myspace will seriously damage the infrastructure of the computer system. Things change fast. Or maybe I just haven't updated in a while.

Things on vacation are typical. I have a terrible sunburn and sometimes my family and I get bored and bicker. But the beach is too beautiful to be real and also there are lots of friendly stray cats and pineapples. Also, glass blowing. I made a flower yesterday. This morning, my hands cramped from the pottery wheel. It feels good to make things.

But the real reason I'm here is to share some much bigger news, that I found out in this very cyber hut two days ago.

I'm spending next semester in LONDON.

I can't even believe it. I've wanted to study abroad since I was seven years old and now I finally get to, in one of my favorite cities in the world. Julia says I'd better find a British boyfriend. I say sure as long as I get to take him back here. But I'm still floating on this news. I wish I was there right now.

I should probably log off before this whole Internet-on-a-remote-island thing gets too expensive. More to come soon (I hopefully mean it this time.)

In which I try and talk about something important

Yesterday, an Israeli Defense Soldier came to my school to share his story and then take questions from students, faculty, and others in attendance. The shit hit the fan, and even though I didn't go to the talk, I still feel pretty affected by what happened. So I'll take my opinion here, because I tried to do it on Twitter and found that 140 characters wasn't enough.

The Israeli/Palestinian conflict is a very big issue at my school, and the vast majority of the student body has sided with Palestine. It seems that I can't go anywhere on campus without seeing evidence of this. Guys with moustaches and Buddy Holly glasses type away in the library on Macbooks adorned with stickers reading "Stop US Aid to Israel," banners hang on buildings advertising marches in solidarity with Palestine, bumper stickers on beat up Volvo station wagons in the parking lot tell us all that Israel is made up of terrorists. Last year I went to the Bridge cafe on campus for a turkey sandwich and found it was decorated with chains of small green paper ovals. Upon further investigation, I found that each oval represented an olive tree in Palestine that had been uprooted by Israeli Forces.

This would all be fine, if I saw anything at all on campus that showed the other side. There was nothing at all of that sort, until yesterday. An Israeli Defense Soldier was coming to speak at our Main Lecture Hall. Mind you, I didn't know about this until late last night when Facebook was flooded with responses to the shit that hit the fan upon his arrival. To make a long story short, The Students for Justice in Palestine came to the talk with signs bearing slogans such as "Stop the Show," whistles, and their opinions that wouldn't wait for the Q&A session. No one let this man share his story, which he has told as countless other colleges without much of a hitch. They treated him with complete disrespect, when he was not there looking for pity or even sympathy. I applaud my administrators (for the first time in a while) for inviting him to come and give us all a much-needed glimpse at the other side of this issue. My fellow students acted like stubborn, privileged, liberal brats.

Maybe I'm not the best person to be talking about this, because I didn't even go. What I'm writing about now is all based on other peoples' accounts. I didn't even find out about this event until later because I generally try to avoid the SJP group, for they have a history of acting like stubborn, liberal, privileged brats. I am wondering now if I would have gone had I known this talk were happening. I am also realizing that this issue has more of an effect on me than I've previously realized. I was raised Jewish, my mother's religion, after a few confusing years of not knowing what the hell I was. I had a bat mitzvah, and the synagogue my family attended was always in favor of supporting Israel, as were my friends at school. I never heard the other side of the story until I came to Hampshire, at which point I decided that neither side was right or wrong. All we can do, I said to myself, was do everything we can to hear both sides speak and try not to vilify one side or the other.

But I'm dancing around the question I posed earlier, and plan to answer. Do I wish I had gone to this? On one hand, I would have really liked to hear this soldier's story. I believe that supporting our troops is a moral, not a political issue and that honoring someone's testimony is one of the best ways to support them. But obviously none of this happened. Still, I would have liked to witness the events of the protest that erupted, just so I could better understand the ways that this conflict in the Middle East has reached Amherst, MA. I think that this refusal to listen to the other side is what was exhibited at the lecture, and it is one of the roots of the Israel/Palestine conflict. Which brings me to why I might not have wanted to go. I can see myself sitting in the Main Lecture Hall, on the brink of an anxiety attack as everything went to chaos around me, feeling sorry for the Israeli Solder onstage not for what he has been through in the army, but because he was given a platform to speak and a bunch of college kids who think they know everything took it away from him.

I'm a totally neglectful blogger

I can't seem to update this regularly, and I do feel bad about it. I really do. I'm not even that busy, it's just that I never really know what to write about here. Maybe someday I'll blog every day, but that day will only come when every day is blog-worthy. Argh.

The Spring semester is off to an okay start. I'm resigning myself to the fact that I probably won't get into that great-looking Writing World War 2 class, so I'll probably try and get an independent study together based of this course one of my professors taught a few semesters back called "Love, Sex, and Death." The name alone makes me want it.

Other than courses, I've been getting into award shows. I've always been big on them, and the ones now are my favorites because they give everybody wine at their tables. Nothing makes me happier than seeing Alec Baldwin completely toasted onstage, trying to accept an award. But I also really like seeing who wears what. My housemates think I'm completely cheesy for getting so into award shows, but they always watch with me and we always make fun of how Ryan Seacrest is shorter than everyone he interviews.

I need to stop rambling and eat something so I can be coherent for my meeting with the program representative at the Global Education Office in a little over an hour. We're going to talk about me possibly going abroad in the fall! But more on that later. Right now I'm just stoked to be putting my dream into action.

Snowpocalypse

Being on the second floor of my house means that the snow doesn't look so scary. But there's got to be at least a foot or two on the ground right now, and it's still coming down in clumps. I can't remember the last time I saw this much snow, and I've been living up north my whole life.

Of course, this inclement weather gives me a huge justification to sit on my bed in my big purple sweater all day. I've been watching way too much Law and Order SVU on Netflix, but I'm also putting together cover letters for the summer. Then again, that's basically been my whole Janterm. I didn't get into any classes but that's turning out alright. The universe wanted me to have a month sitting and knitting and working when I feel like it. It's nice to not have to worry about waking up for the same class every day, especially not when it feels like Siberia outside.

Speaking of which, there is a row of students outside trekking through the snow, trying to have an adventure of some sorts. They're crazy. But I had a snow adventure last night (or this morning?) in the form of a wintry walk in the wee hours, as the snow was just starting to come down. There were three of us out there, and it felt like we were the only people in the world besides the snow plow men. We threw snowballs at each other and wrote our names in the snow with our feet. It was so pretty out; I kept feeling like we were in Scandinavia or something. I felt like I was a kid again. Like cover letters didn't matter and the most exciting thing in the world was staying up late to play in the snow and then drink hot chocolate.

This is all even more poignant when I realize that I'm turning twenty this Monday, and Saturday is the big party night. We're celebrating two other mid-January birthdays that night too. There will be colored twinkle lights and a whole lot of floor-shaking dancing. It'll be the perfect Viking funeral for my teenage years.

JanTerm, beaking hearts all over town.

Janterm, you're showing yourself to be quite the heartbreaker.

I arrived here last night for January Term. All the lights in the mod were off, because I was the first to arrive. Also, I was the last to leave back in December. I guess I just love this place too much. I spent the first night here with my knitting, a big plate of spaghetti bolognese, and a Law and Order SVU marathon. I felt an overwhelming sense of hope for the coming month.

Then came the morning. I dragged my tired old ass out of bed for my 10am class for which I was waitlisted for. Then I proceeded to realize I had left a bunch of my clothes back in New York. But that soon became the least of my worries. In the next hour, I would slice my finger while opening a package of lox, and then rush to class precariously balancing a cup of coffee only to show up late.

This all would have been worth it had I actually gotten into the course, but upon seeing how many other people were on the waitlist as well, and seeing my spot in relation to theirs, the professor and I both agreed I probably wouldn't be able to enroll.

I'm miffed because this was basically the only writing class available this January that wasn't limited to first year students. I have a backup plan, and I'll give it a shot, but I really don't want to settle. So if I don't like the backup plan, I'll just spend this month bumming around, working on my Division 2 contract, and planning the summer.

It's good that I believe everything happens for a reason, otherwise I'd be really freaking out now.

Awkward moments with my dad.

Why do the gross commercials with gyrating women selling something always show up when I'm watching TV with my dad? Or that one with the guy grinning from ear to ear because some pill is giving him a bigger wang? It's just uncomfortable. I don't want to acknowledge the presence of sex in the presence of my dad. I just wanna watch VH1 recap Saturday Night Live in the 2000s. I'm starting to think there's an evil little man living in my TV who makes these horrible commercials come on whenever my dad is in the room. Never when I'm alone.

But my dad is, thankfully, cool as a cucumber when this happens. This completely suggestive and cheesy Trojan ad for a "personal massager" showed up when we were watching the SNL retrospective, and while I promptly hid in my sweater, he just says "Jesus, I thought this was an SNL skit."

Go dads.

Up to Speed

A lot has happened since I last wrote here. Let's break it down.

Don't Ask Don't Tell got repealed! This coincided with the day I returned home for break, and the night that Titanic was shown commercial-free on USA Network. I obviously watched the whole thing. It's only been one of my all time favorite, would-take-this-to-a-desert-island movies since I was thirteen. Why would I pass up a chance to watch it uninterrupted by peppy people trying to make be buy cat food and moderately priced electronics?

I had just gotten to the part where Leo was showing Kate his drawings of the one-legged prostitute from Paris, when my dad emerges from his office and says, all matter-of-factly, "Leo was pretty adorable in this movie."

I like to think this was his way of celebrating the DADT repeal.

Then of course was the obligatory "I'm back in New York let's go to Manhattan and shop" day. I had tea with my sister and a friend from school, then we wandered around the Union Square holiday market getting gifts for people including ourselves. It was very cold. But we found refuge in a nearby coffee shop that also sold frozen yogurt. That sounds like a dream one would have after bad takeout but it really happened. There was an attractive Scandinavian-looking fellow sitting at the counter who totally saw us checking him out in the reflection in the window.

Five minutes later it was Christmas. I spent it eating way too much food and opening boxes with sweaters in them and trying not to flinch when my poor grandmother examined my nose ring. I hate to admit it, but I was kind of thankful the blizzard forced us home early. I was all too happy to collapse into the couch and watch The Daily Show OnDemand for hours.

As for today, I'm trying to be productive but all I want to do is nap. My dad and I are thinking of seeing a movie tonight, but I can't decide if I want to go highbrow or lowbrow. I know I should see "The King's Speech" so I have something to say during the Oscar broadcast and I can only gush about "Black Swan" for so long, but I've always had this lingering thing for Barbara Streisand and Dustin Hoffman as The Fockers. Maybe I'll ditch both those ideas and see "True Grit" because it'll still give me something to talk about during the Oscar broadcast and I've always had a lingering thing for Matt Damon. Any leading man who goes for a recurring guest spot on 30 Rock is a keeper in my book. Even better if they're from Boston. Hooh-rah.

I'm the worst college student ever?

LolCats are funny only when you haven't slept enough.

I can't pull an all nighter. I tried. I really did. I had to write a fifteen page paper and do some research for it too. But at around 5am I decided to take a two hour power nap. I would snooze for two hours, let dances of Northern Irish youth dance in my head (that's what my paper was on), wake up feeling great at 7am, crank out fifteen pages by 5pm and that that would be that. So I collapsed onto my bed, woke up at 7am as planned, hit the snooze because it was still dark out (thanks a lot, winter), and trudged downstairs, where I promptly fell asleep on the couch for THREE HOURS.

I felt really lame because I thought this was finally my night to be a hardcore college student and stay up all night like the boss I am. But I'm clearly an old person who needs sleep.

I wrote the paper in about seven hours. It ended up being 11 pages instead of 15. But that's okay, I hope so.

Tonight is my last night before winter break. I'm taking myself to see Black Swan, because no one is here anymore. Then I might delete some of the weird Pandora stations I made during finals, because I get cravings for music I don't normally listen to when I'm writing finals. This semester, it was 80s power ballads. My modmate was blasting them while we pounded out our last papers. It was kind of great. So monumental. Eventually I made a Pandora station based on "Summer of '69" by Bryan Adams and "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" came on while I was writing my last few paragraphs on Northern Ireland. It was weird and made too much sense for my life.