Happy New Year!

coming soon:

biddiewatch video blog.

i plan on auditioning for things on campus that i have absolutely no experience in. tune in to see me audition for mozaic this thursday!

(mozaic = badass hip hop dance group. i got the kicks, but i ain't got the swagga.)

the other day i waited for brittany to go to the bathroom in walmart, which is an adventure in and of itself. as i was waiting, i noticed that they put item recalls on a nearby bulletin board. i began to read, and made some horrific discoveries:

as if we didn't poison the ocean enough, this boogie board contains excessive amounts of lead. what looks like a harmless water transportation device is really a silent killer amongst children that convince their parents to purchase such souvenirs. or amongst children that are too stupid to swim in a public pool. in which case we may as well eliminate them.

now we move on to an item i actually own. woops. this item was recalled because overheating of the water tank could lead to a FIRE HAZARD. thank you walmart - i never would have categorized an iron as a fire hazard.

it is really too bad they recalled these shoes, because they are comfortable and JMU-y. i would know because i purchased them a year ago. and they just now decided to recall them because (gasp) the heel could potentially break off and cause you to fall.

...

i wonder if they sent this memo to victoria's secret. probably the models all wear sneakers on the runway now. safety first.

i saved the most disturbing for last. "a pressure build-up can cause the machine to suddenly come apart, possibly leading to injury." yes, folks, this coffeemaker will SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST. in my opinion, the only legitimate recall. meanwhile, the government must brainstorm another way to assassinate coffee-loving communist dictators throughout the world.

Party Mode, Engage.

I don’t understand why facebook forces you to type the words “levine earfuls” or “99 koala kids” in order to post a link in your status.

This week has been camp college. Camp college is where all of the delinquent children are sent to accomplish ridiculous things they won’t remember as a reward for sitting around doing nothing for the past three months. It is an astoundingly beautiful thing. It is tradition to be hammeration every single night so as to build up your alcohol tolerance before the actual school year begins. Because school is just a lie we tell our parents to live in paradise for thousands of dollars a semester.

I decided to go against this golden rule and take a night off, but still attend hammertime events. Since I was not drinking, I decided to make things interesting by creating a new identity for myself, along with brandon duncan.

I was Kaylee, the new freshman smad major from spotswood OMGLAWL!

And brandon was Roger, the exchange student from new zealand who was gay at some parties, and straight at others.

Oh and at one point josh eflin introduced himself as Harry.

Things were going swimmingly, seeing as how the hammered loooved brandon’s accent. I was mostly ignored as a run-of-the-mill girl in jean shorts who decided to drink despite original intentions.

Until this girl runs over yelling at brandon (as roger). “my friends don’t believe that you are british! Tell them! I know you are!”

“actually mate, I’m from new zealand.”

“I told you guys! Lolzdrunx”

A short bald guy overheard this conversation.

“so you’re from new zealand?”

“yeh, I’m just here for the year as an exchange student.”

“wow! So you must really love rugby? I’m on the rugby team here. Dude, you should totally come out and play ::beerpong shot::!!! What do you think of so-and-so getting traded? Did you know the new league just incorporated quidditch rules?”

“I know I can’t believe it!”

“yeah! Definitely come play.”

“I might watch.”

“you have to play! You’d kick everyone’s ass! So what’s your major?”

“I um yeah I’m a theater major.”

...

“oh. So this could all be just a lie then? Because you’re a theater major? Good at accents?”

“NO OF COURSE NOT G2G”

So we left.

Next party:

I meet a girl named nikki who is a freshman, and her roommate shivanne.

We talk for ten minutes about our majors, why we are afraid of the first day, what our dorms are like, what my roommate is like, how we know the people at this party, and that we should try to meet up for frog events the next day.

These girls just love kaylee.

But then disaster strikes - all of madison project shows up at this party.

And I tell those girls that I went to high school with every single one of them. Then josh shouts “ALLISON!” across the room. But people still called me kaylee.  And now I have new friends.

I leave.

The next day I go to dinner at a friend’s house. I start to tell this story, and a guy at the table I did not know says “I KNEW YOU LOOKED FAMILIAR!”

And I had to tell him and his friends that the entire thing was a lie.

So, lesson learned. People will totally believe you as long as you are not a theater major. But they will find you at a dinner party the next day.

^ I was ready to post all of that until the story continued. Last night I went to a 6 kegger in pheasant run, and guess who’s there? One of the guys from dinner, AND nikki and shivanne. I say what’s up to the girls and leave them alone with meghan verducci. They ask meghan if she is my roommate and she says no. The girls ask her if she’s a freshman and she says no. They say “oh but allison is a freshman!” and meghan says “I have no idea what you are talking about.” so my cover is potentially blown on all accounts.

I pass by the dinner guy with the girls in view. He asks me for my name again and I start to say allison, but then catch myself. “kaycee - I mean, kaylee!”. Luckily or unluckily the girls overheard. I think I’m gonna tell them the truth so we can actually be friends.

20,000 students at this school...and I keep seeing the same three.

EsCARgot

Found this gem while cleaning my desktop:

sometimes always when you escape something bad, something else comes to find you.

there is more than one reason why i should be suffering from swine flu right now. i'm not. clutch. but instead, the fates decided our car should die on the middle of the highway in france only 45 minutes away from home. after driving in traffic for 5 hours.

so.

everyone is fighting and i'm just trying to sleep it off, but we somehow manage to find an SOS phone after we've veered off the highway. we call for help. 30 minutes of eating all the food in our car later (survival strategy), the truck appears. towtrucks here are WAY sweeter. the cabin fits at least 6 people legally - classy. on our way to the place where dead cars go (not heaven), we pick up another towtruck driver (why? doesn't he have a truck?) and some smelly french woman. stereotypes aside, she smelled like she was at least 50 years past her due date. and she was only middle-aged.

she sits next to me.

we go to rusty car central, and i don't know what's going on because i don't know any car words in french. so instead i stand outside in the bitter cold (i swear the temperature dropped 2 degrees specifically for this occasion) and watch my little sisters have teddy bear battles in the parking lot. probably shouldn't have let them play there, but the coast looked clear.

i decide to go inside and see what's going on. olivia comes and spills a stack of papers everywhere. guess she's my sister after all.

then i realize the towtruck driver we picked up is actually a real person and the husband of ms. smelly. he's talking to the guy at the desk and here's a picture to prove it:

so i guess it's mr. and ms. crack now. but ms. crack gets all of this sandwich stuff out of her car. a baguette, meat, cheese, mustard, and lays it out in this common area place. i am eating bacon chips from england. i'm fascinated that they have all of these supplies on hand. but they are not eating any of it. so i get bored and leave.

back to past tense now?

i come outside to find my dad having a serious heart to heart with mr. crack. they are circling the lot together. then my stepmom tells me not to ever trust men. wise.

we are stranded. the french cracks give us some apricots. i guess their car broke down because it was actually a farm.

still no one has eaten that baguette. i'll spoil the end of the story for you - they never eat it.

Finally, another towtruck comes and he drives us all the way back to switzerland. But it is illegal for him to be in switzerland past midnight, so we are crunched for time.

Wait - illegal?

We park our car in the middle of the road when we get there because parking is a vicious cycle in geneva. We almost towed someone so we could have a spot, but the guy was gonna turn into a pumpkin if he did not leave.

Prime example of quick escalation - a nine hour journey that ended with a lot of wine.

and then the next morning we found out that

OUR CAR HAD EXPLODED IN A FREAK GASOLINE ACCIDENT!!!!!!!!!!