He sounds more sincere than that when he lies.

Thanks to the wonders of technology, the majority of my post just got deleted. So you get the short version.

I am in Gryffindor and (much to his chagrin) Devin is in Huffledor. And we will have Gryffinhuffledor babies.

Welcome to the best blog of the year.  Why?  Because J.K. Rowling has affirmed the premise that I belong in Gryffindor.  Perhaps not personally, but through the site Pottermore.com, which despite Nicole’s bragging about, I started, since I told her about it.  Just kidding.  Sort of.  (Also I'm aware that the title isn't an accurate portrayal of how sorting works [it's not genetic (though I think the Weasleys make a strong case against this- I would've put Percy in Doucherdor) and you can't arbitrarily combine houses, such as "Huffledor", which I put Devin in because he has all the good traits of a Gryffindor but is really friendly/loyal, too, and despite what y'all say, I find Hufflepuff kind of demeaning.].). (<---- Surprise ellipses!)

April 25th, The Perfect Date

You know what's wonderful? Not living in Russia. You know what is even more wonderful? Not living in Russia in the 16th century. And those facts, my friends, are what I've learned so far from my "Russian and Soviet Films" class. Also, I now know an inordinate amount about Ivan the Terrible and his life. So that's...useless, I guess. Onwards? Onwards! (Screw you, Derek.)

It's true that such spaces remind us in a scary, but seductive way of our own temporariness and the relatively short life of all that we build and do.

As always, I am at a lack of ideas for how to start this post. It's probably better to just jump right into it rather than giving you this preface on my lack of creativity.  I guess I just want to remind you all of how not awesome I am.  Except, not really. I'm pretty awesome, let's be honest.  Rachael and I talked about this earlier in the semester, how our friend group can be completely honest with one another when we talk about our strengths and weaknesses.  There is no awkwardness in admitting to each other that we are better at certain things and that we are worse at others.  I like this.  I think a reflection on how comfortable one person is talking about stuff (serious or unimportant) to another is a great sign of how deep a friendship is.  That little spiel sounded like it was intended to justify my being awesome, but I can assure you it wasn't.  It was just my train of thought after I made that joke.  And, if you unfortunately do not see this characteristic in the friend group I am implicating then I am sorry.  And that's a little awkward...

Valaritas

Exactly one month from today, I will wake up in Newport Beach for the first time since February. That should be enjoyable. Also, I'm listening to KUSC right now. The answer to today's Great Composer Quiz was Beethoven. Real original, Dennis.

Last Friday Night

Okay, so I am starting this blog at 11:53 PM EST, aka this will be a short post.  Just got back from my fraternity’s spring semi-formal.  It was fun, and I’m glad I went, though the college drinking bull reared his head.  Like he generally does.  I’m just not usually there to witness it.  However, all in all it was a fun Friday night with dancing and hanging out.  When I returned to my dorm, I bought a dozen Krispy Kremes for $8 (which the girls’ rugby team was selling), which I think was definitely a fair trade.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!? (Warning: rhetorical question. Answers will not be appreciated)

Educators, friends, family members, odd stalkers who read my blog posts and no one else's,

Today is a day that will go down in college history! For today is the day that I slept for sixteen hours straight. Yes, you read correctly. Last night (technically this morning?) I fell asleep at one am, and today I woke up at five in the afternoon. Why has such a sleep schedule occurred? Why has no one stopped me? Find out, after the break. . . 

Ah yes, a regular schedule. That's what this is.

Hello!  Remember when I said I'd post reliably?  Apparently I lied.  Let'sa go!

I Need New Glasses

Instead of coal, Santa now gives the bad children . . .

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El Nombre del Viento, and Vlogging ftw

Hello all.

Well, I’ve prepared my first vlog for your viewing pleasure.  Understand that there is a thick layer of sarcasm coating it.  As in I don’t actually feel left out or anything.  The rest of it is pretty accurate.  Get ready for magic.

What Hath God Wrought?

Hello buddies,

So in the past few days my life has gone from normal and lovely to a bit topsy-turvey. It's not just because of the fact that this week is finals, or that next week is Spring Break and my/people's plans are a bit muddled, or that people are inherently flawed and enjoy causing me problems. No, it's all of those combined. It's like soft serve vanilla-chocolate ice cream twist because it combines things together, but it's not sweet and fulfilling. I realize this is a horrible simile, but I just ate some soft serve twist, so it's sort of on my mind.   Onwards? Well, if we must.

Get Ready for a Long One Folks

Salvete Omnes, and so begins another chronicle of my week as a freshman in college.  Can I just begin by saying I miss you all.  I can't wait for summer to come so I may see you all.  I was laying in bed the other night and planning out our reunion, specifically our reading party.  We all meet at someone's house extremely early in the morning.  We will make a glorious brunch filled with waffles (and peanut butter! more on this later) and other wonderful food while still in our pj's.  Then we all inhabit a singular bed and get our read on.  Spontaneously we would break out into random acts of fun-ness to make our reading marathon less tedious.  It will be awesome.  I also considered getting snacks and have decided that in the interest of health we will only have fruits and nuts as snacks.  I don't want to be stuffing my face with chocolate deliciousness that I will later regret.  So yeah, miss you all.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Harper's Fairy

Tomorrow my friends Eleanor and Caitlin and I are going to Harper’s Ferry.  If you don’t know why that is really, really exciting to me, then you aren’t Derek.  On a family vacation/college tour, said person made his family drive hours out of the way to visit it for me.  “For me” meaning “to prove me wrong” in this context, about there being water and boats.

Dangerous Tea Parties and Crosswords

Picture this: a young girl of 18 lounging in bed with a blue robe on. It is the afternoon and she has only gone outside to go to a class that did not, in fact, occur. She therefore got a bagel, a coffee, and headed back to the bed in which she spends a great deal of time in (Is it her own? Possibly). She then spends way too much time working on a crossword that, after about 45 minutes, she finally gives up on. To her merit, she finished most of it. And the clues were stupid ("It's the clue that is stupid, Nicole? Really?"). She thus  pulled herself away from the crossword which was enabling her ability to procrastinate and decided to do some actual work. And by do some actual work, she means write a blog post. It will be hastily written because the amount of work she still needs to do is slowly dawning on her. 

Glycine is the only achiral amino acid!

So it's Monday night, 10:51pm to be specific, and I'm at the library where I should be studying for my chemistry midterm that is to take place on Wednesday.  In the time between now and Wednesday I have to memorize the names, 1-letter abbreviations, 3-letter abbreviations, functional groups, uses, and characteristics of all the amino acids.  And that is probably going to be only about 20% of the midterm, at most.  Needless to say, I'm not excited.  So when I say, "I should be studying."  I really should be studying.  But Derek just had to publish his record long post, thanks buddy. So I thought that while I was in the blogging mood I might as well start on what will not be as long as Derek's post but will attempt to give the same entertainment value.

Welcome to the Hotel California

A black arrow, doused in snake venom, whizzed through the air for fifty meters, then embedded itself in the heart of a mail-clad soldier. His mail armor was weak, and he faltered, then fell off his mount, eyes full of death. The small scout force of humans braced for an attack, but too late. Forty lkaks, creatures distinguished by the smell of rotten eggs about them and three large horns sticking out of their forehead, leapt out of the trees, quickly cutting down the nine remaining humans. In a few short seconds, it was over.

No Post on Sundays