Hello.

I have made a decision to return to the blog world. This decision had several factors; namely, I need to become famous so that I can make some money. That said, you (future Juliet- the only person who will ever read this) should feel free to help in the quest. Perhaps we can start by you asking that well-connected uncle by marriage to drop my name over a meal of chip butties and warm beer to JK Rowling.

For now, I give you a list.

Top 10 Reasons Why I Have Abandoned My Blog:

10. Eating
9. Sleeping
8. Facebook
7. Tesla
6-1. Facebook




Somethings are better left unsaid...

A Very Important Message

I think I have a problem...

as if we didn't know that already! Laugh it up, you meanos. But seriously, lately I have been feeling as though my friends and I are getting really old really quickly. I mean, I've already discussed here how I think that I've passed my prime (which occurred at the ripe, longed for years of 17 and 18), but it's becoming more and more evident every day. So, recently I've been catching onto seemingly innocent things that I do that, as I delve more and more into psychology and pretty much become an expert on Freudian theories, I'm beginning to think might be a little repressive, an intsy bit denial, or at least a tad distorted/ delusional projection with a heaping side order of suppression. ( Please send academic praises and awards to my home address.)

First off, no matter how old I or they get, I take the names of my one-syllable named friends and add a y for a younger, more cutesy sounding name. Some examples: Timmy, Matty, Frankie (here the "ie" takes place of the "y" but carries the same suffix sound), etc. Also, and this really tickles someone's fancy (I bet), I get mixed up about exactly what year we are currently existing in. Today I got back the THIRD paper in about 3 months where my professor circled the year "2006" at the top of the page. Was 2006 a really good year or something, you ask? Who knows, I just completely forget sometimes what year it is so I take an educated guess. Also, today I was wikipediaing someone (as per usual) and when I saw their DOB I did the math in my head to figure out how old this makes them when it struck me!! For the first time, I realized then when I do date of birth calculations in my head, I stop adding at the year 2005! For who knows how long now I have been subtracting years off of people's lives! This particular man, age 37, had been 34 for me for the past three years! You can only imagine the impact this has had on my dating life in the past hour since I've made this life-altering realization. Some of my most eligible celebrity bachelors (or happily married men), under new calculations have been pushed into higher age brackets! Dermot Mulroney- yeah, not 39! He's in his forties. I mean, thats not going to stop me from pursuing him or anything, I just want you all to understand what sort of things I'm working with here.

So the point of all of this, I guess, is that I'm a little off my rocker as of late, but I blame it on having all this spare time to reflect on my lost life. Man, growing old is so strange and I wish everyone would just freeze frame... except some people...and some people can change their wardrobes...

I think from now on, every birthday I have will be my 2oth. Maybe I shouldn't have said that..

In case you've been concerned about me..

Parents, loved ones, people who read this and think they fall under the category of my "loved ones," friends in close and distant places, friends I want to be further away from, and the general blogatory creepers (myself definitely not excluded),

In case you have been concerned about my living situation here in this beautiful heap of dung known as Worcester, Massachusetts, here is an email I received today from the dean of students at Clark that should help put some of your worries at bay:

I have been informed that the water issue from earlier today is now fine. The brown rust that came through has gone away and it's safe to drink the water again.

Denise Darrigrand

Denise M. Darrigrand

Dean of Students

Clark University

Well, it is nice that I just now received that email after being at classes all day, regretting not noticing the earlier poison-death water email that apparently came through. Whats perhaps even more disconcerting than receiving an email like this is receiving an email like this only after you have successfully completed teeth brushing, face washing, and several water-drinking excursions. Now that it's brought to my attention, this morning my toothpaste did taste strangely like old pennies. Besides this, apparently the water I had been utilizing/consuming was apparently very noticeably discolored which only encourages me to get more sleep at night so as to avoid future confusion between normally clear and infectious brown liquids. Also, related to not getting enough sleep- the other night(morning?) I reached new lows (even for me!) when... I.... .... ..


slept-facebook-checked! I know! It's embarrassing and I don't know how it happened, but apparently I read TWO messages that I thought were just dreams but later (maybe 15 hours later) realized that they in fact were reality and that I just didn't consciously sign myself onto facebook. How embarrassing! I'd rather be that friend of mine that once peed under the Christmas tree while dreaming she was in the bathroom than be the girl who checks facebook in her sleep. Something has got to be done.


On an unrelated note, I hope everyone had a lovely Purim or Easter or just regular Sunday. I received my lovely Easter basket in the mail and am now enjoying some delicious gummy bears. I almost exclusively like the red and clear ones, which I like to eat back to back, together, only after I have chewed/bit/gnawed off their ears, eyes, faces, arms and legs.

WAIT! I just realized that sometimes I get the clear and the yellowish/dirty one's mixed up! No WONDER the Worcester dirty pond water fooled me...

NOT AGAIN!!!

You guys will never believe what just happened to me... well, maybe you will because I'm writing about it and it's really not that insane and as far as I'm aware I haven't given most of you reason not to trust me... but STILL!

So, here I am, minding my own business, skipping down the path to the UC to collect my EASTER PACKAGE (ahem. sorry) and who do I run into again but Fritz, one of my favorite campus walked K-9's and his seemingly European human companion. Quickly thinking back to my last encounter with this pair, I was very proud of myself when I remembered to act cool so like the Who I won't be fooled again. (I included that lyric despite the grammatic error of using the wrong verb tenses and switching presences.) Fritz runs over to me, as per usual, and I proceed to pet him. But THIS TIME when his owner approached me, I quickly and confidently said, "oh! he's so cute, what's his name?" Good one, Juliet. Way to be composed, cool, and not a pet-name memorizing freak at all. To which Fritz's owner hesitantly (perhaps worriedly) replies, "Fritz... but I thought you knew that, haven't we met before?" FOILED! I didn't know what to say!! I was completely caught of guard and since acting cool is something new for me, I didn't know how to cool my way out of this!!

Completely mortified, I said the most embarrassing thing to ever leave my mouth. " [giggle] yeah.. G2G!!!" AHH!! I was so nervous that I LITERALLY said "G- 2- G." I mean, yeah, I'm weird sometimes, but I've never been that girl! That girl that replaces her emoticons with faces like these ^-^, incessantly types lol after every online statement, and adds colons to demonstrate what action they are performing while communicating over instant messenger (::shakes head in shame::). To take it one step further and actually proclaim an internet/texting shortcut outloud to a man who already thinks I should be institutionalized!? It was so horrible that I just left my research meeting to come downstairs and type this up in the computer lab really quick.

I just hope that Fritz is still allowed to hang out with me. Next time, I WILL be prepared to play it cool and Fritz's owner will be impressed. Mark my words, but for now- g2g.

The Return of the King(s)

Tomorrow night at 11 marks the return of Broad Topics to all of your neglected eardrums!!

In honor of spring break with it's spirit of social debauchery, nell and i have decided that this week's theme will be (dun da da dooooo!!) CRIME!!

That's right all of you closet psychopaths and sinners- this is the show for YOU! Feel free to email in any song requests as well as some crimes that you have committed! (Please nothing that can actually have you committed- cough ashley alexandra dupre) and don't forget to call-in as per usual. Let's start a radio rebellion!

This is one comeback you won't wanna miss! TUNE IN!

rocu_broadtopics@yahoo.com

--- www.clarku.edu/students/rocu

More Excuses

In the next few days I have to:

-storyboard, shoot, log and capture, and edit a 4 minute film
-comprise a 12 source annotated bibliography for a study I have not yet designed
-design study
-learn and then study logic for a test
-figure out my summer plans included location, internships, jobs, money
-fit in cuddle time with bleeks

BUT I WILL BLOG

Mittens on Kittens!

Bleeker?! Spitzer?! St. Patty's Day?! Spring break parts one and two?!

SO MUCH HAS HAPPENED AND YET I HAVE NOT BLOGGED!! ( I just held down the shift key for all of those individual letters and it was significantly more difficult than just using the caps key!)

Clearly, I am off my rocker.

To my defense, my laptop bit the big one about 3 weeks ago leaving me friendless, fruitless, alone and hopeless. Luckily, my friends and the fruits of my labor combined together to provide hope. After some tears of frustration, pullings of hard drives, borrowing of laptops, and pathetic pleas, father shed some light on this forgotten shepherd and bought me a sheep! The sheep is now grazing, and I am beginning to remember how to point my curved little stick, tickle my beard and walk around in an open field. (Seriously, what do shepherds even do?) In short, I have decided this blog has been neglected for too long and I am now making it my mission to update more often. This most certainly correlates to an overall decrease in entertainment per blog, but will hopefully encourage me to write a little more and eat /watch tv / fiddle / prod /waste/chud a little less.

This all, of course, is starting tomorrow....

I am truly sorry for the many blogless nights, but for now- top o' the morning to you! Enjoy this St. Patrick's day that was officially moved from tomorrow to yesterday at the swift gesture of the Pope's hand. Don't mess.

Restless

I feel like I am in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Its a terrible, boring episode. I have been lying awake in bed since about 4:45 am, after managing a slight 2 and a half hours of sleep. This doesn't really make sense seeing as how last night I was more tired than I remember being in a long time. It's a weird thing when your body aches in every single way from being worn out and lacking rejuvenation, yet your mind can't stop racing with every single thought fighting it's way into consciousness as if it needs immediate address.

Outside I heard the unmistakable, disheartening sound of cat crying. With this, I decided to get out of bed to make sure there weren't any cat/human killers lurking around. Just one of those feelings you know. As i walked towards the window, I nearly peed in my pants when the early morning quiet was suddenly disrupted by the cat screaming. I was afraid I was experiencing an animal sixth sense situation and that if I looked out the window I would have seen a zombie. I mustered up the courage to slightly peek out (being absolutely quiet in case something was there) and a disheveled black cat was outside the window- staring at me. We stared at each other for what felt like 10 minutes and, out of respect for the dead (or undead-which this ghost cat obviously was) I slowly closed the blind and walked away.

Now here I am, absolutely terrified- to be frank. I'm feeling 2 parts scared, 3 parts surreal, and 5 parts physically pained but mentally together. That being said, for all of those who live in Worcester: I'm glad you have been able to sleep through it (which I'm judging by the sheer silence outside), but there is a demonic feline outbreak currently entailing (pun intended) that I think you should all be made aware of.

I guess now is a good of time as ever to watch Helvetica. Maybe I'll make my roommates breakfast.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Or, as a friend put it, happy singles' awareness day.

Long Overdue

Oh my little mignon minions! I am terribly sorry that it has been so long since I updated the blogula. Things here in the woo have been- whew! I last left you with inspirational words of puppy lust and Chels Clinton, but I am now delighted to inform you that since then I have gotten up close and personal with both love and ANOTHER Clinton! Yes, I am now playing in the big leagues! Although it is too late for (most of) you to actually change your vote, my two most recent sojourns in politics might just change your opinion of the two current democrat superstars.

If you haven't been living under a (ba)rock, you already know much about the campaigns and political premises and promises of Obama and Hills. I, however, have been living under a rock. But, I wouldn't want to discuss my opinions of universal health care, green jobs, or the war here anyway. I just really, really, really wouldn't want to provide opinion of UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE. Yes. Anyways. It all started Saturday morning when I zombied into work at 8:45a.m...

Feeling as though death would have been preferable to waking up that early on a Saturday, I was absolutely delighted when my coworker informed me that we wouldn't be holding regular classes but would instead be heading over to an Obama rally for the afternoon. Not only was I excited to be able to spend the morning sitting and staring (as opposed to the usual standing and staring), but also to learn more about Obama's campaign. People very slowly poured into Atwood- but this didn't matter. I was experiencing an alternate universe, perhaps having my second out-of-body experience (the first was when I was an arm's distance from Derek Jeter at Yankee Stadium and lost my ability to think.) For a reason that I cannot explain, when "Beautiful Day" by U2 came over the speakers- I was lost. This song had me so inspired that I immediately endorsed Barack on completely false notions. The combination of the song and the sunlight pouring through the high windows filled my body with hope- believe me, you too would have been optimistic. (See what I did there?) The next thing I knew, Duvall Patrick was walking out to the podium. I know I have been skeptical in the past, but I now know love at first site to be true. Not only was he a beautiful sight to behold (the sun rays somehow converging just over his head), but the man was perhaps the best public speaker I have ever seen. I don't remember what he said, but I remember that he said it damn well. Before I could realize it, my friend's were commenting on my Obama pin, bumper stickers and posters that I seemed to be toting around like I was on my way to drink some kool-aid with Jim Jones.

I was very "GObama!" That is, until later that day when I found out Hillary Clinton would be speaking at Clark the following Monday. My friends were absolutely, adorably (to an extent), crazy over the Hills. Ironically, I hadn't seen them that excited since the Mtv series "the hills" stopped airing new episodes. With Hill scheduled to talk at noon, Jeff decided we would arrive at 8. Monday morning I almost murdered him when he walked into my room and screamed "ITS HILLARY DAY WAKE UP! Leah and I overslept!" at 8:30. I had to go pick up a camera but jumped into the front of the line with those guys around 10:30. The next 6 or so hours were spent standing. Waiting. Hoping. Already, Obama's rally had a one-up on Hillary's. The sitting area is a very effective campaigning technique. In the crowd, I made friends with a man who told me he was an ex-Miami Dolphin's player. He later told me he actually wasn't, and still later we found out the hard way that he and his friend's were in fact "signature speculators" who get famous/influential people to sign pictures that they in-turn sell on ebay for a massive profit. There were some words exchanged after Nell heard one of his friend's referring to the informed, active, future-of-our-country, college students around him as "teeny boppers." We are very proud of Nelly. Although I was about ready to scream, faint, explode and collapse all at the same time from the 6 hours of standing and excruciatingly claustrophobic conditions of the crowd- me being at the very front- this quickly dissipated to full energy when I saw the yellow of Hillary's blazer whip around the corner! Tom Petty's "American Girl" was playing. Perfectly appropriate, a decent song, but no u2 moment-I'm sorry to say. Her rally was really only so-so, and I was extremely frustrated with the fact that she was nearly four hours late, but when Hillary spoke- I listened. There is something about Hillary Clinton (that perhaps you can only experience when she is standing just in front of you) that just feels so right. What didn't feel as right was her hand when I shook it. (YES I DID!) It was unsettlingly clammy, but with a firm shake.

Although I didn't fall in love at Hillary's rally, and though Obama's rally was generally better and more organized, the two experiences left me confused with my democratic decision. I didn't have an absentee ballot to vote, so I didn't need to make the decision on Tuesday like many of us did. Instead, I am happy to say that I am beginning to feel as though I would be happy with either of the democrat candidates making inevitably poor decisions in the oval office. Who knew I love politics! Plus, at this rate- it's only a matter of time before I'm having dinner with Bill!

Bonus!! Check out these pics with me and the other HILL BLAZERS!

Tentative

This bloglette may or may not be deleted in the next few to several hours, but it is a two or so sentence anecdotal that I felt compelled to share with the world.

Please take this however you wish and judge me accordingly.

My most recent "romantic endeavor" (which includes not only staring from a distance, but also the occasional smile and giggle in his general direction) has been the pursuit of a man-child (whom I don't know at all) that VERY remotely resembles Michael Cera in appearance.

Last night, my friend and I worked up the courage to introduce ourselves. Within only five or so minutes, he promised that he would write my name, in urine, on the side of a car.

Whoever said that chivalry was dead?

On the Radio

Ah, the public radio.  Don't know what the weathers going to be like?
Want to know if I-90 is backed up? Haven't head about Jamie Lynn Spears
being pregnant?  Want to spend some personal time in your car listening to
Delilah? Been wondering if your favorite DJ endorses any weight loss pills
or other quick fixes to unhappiness? All you have to is flip a small
switch and you are connected with a world of free knowledge.  And by
knowledge I mean information, and by information I mean gossip and by
gossip I most likely mean commercials.  None the less, growing up
listening to the radio is one thing that many of us (you one person that
reads this blog and I) have in common.  In fact, even back in my parent's
day, when radios were still made up out of rocks, twigs and a small bird
that would recite several phrases, many families, friends and foes would
gather around the small box for the nightly news report.

Growing up as a young girl in a small Hudson River Valley hamlet,
listening to the radio was the routine start to almost every single school
day.  Even some of my earliest memories of kindergarten and first grade
involve waiting down at the end of the driveway with my brothers and
sisters, waiting for the school bus that we often would miss.  ( My
mother, irritated and clad in pajamas and peanut butter from the 4 school
lunches she would have to race to make every morning, would then whip
through the dirt roads in order to get us to a neighbor's driveway in time
to catch their stop.)  (  One day, the neighbor's dog (Berwick), peed on
my backpack while I was waiting for the bus; Too embarrassed to tell my
mom, brothers or sister, I proceeded to school with my urine contaminated
sack.  True story.)  Anyway.  It was these first few years of life that
composed my earliest memories of the radio.  My friend Hannah (also on the
Red bus) and I would sit in the first seat of the bus and sing along to
the radio station that our bus driver, Norm, would play. ( K104.7- The
Hudson Valley's hit music station.)  We would also comb Norm's hair on a
daily basis which, retrospectively, is a little weird.

For the remainder of my career as a student who rode the bus, which
unfortunately took me throughout all four years of high school, I was
subjected to my respective bus drivers' radio choice every morning and
afternoon.  As a general rule, it was the cool bus drivers that would play
K104 up until about middle school.  In middle school, much to my secret
dismay, K104 became uncool and my male classmates who chose to sit in the
back of the bus would groan whenever the driver would play today's hits.
Instead, they would call to the front of the bus and request that the
driver put on Q104.3- Classic Rock.  Since this station was also the
personal favorite of my dad's, I was accustomed to hearing it so the
switch didn't phase me all too much.  Sometimes its nice, however,  to get
out of school, climb on to the bus with your friends, and dance around to
"Who Let the Dog's Out?"  What could be cooler than that?  Yet, I found
myself admist the cool kids in the last four rows of the bus singing along
to Bob Dylan and talking about cool things like how uncool the people who
sit in the first four rows of the bus are....they probably liked to listen
to K104.

My long awaited radio absolution finally came when I reached college.  It
was only freshman year when I met my friend, Joel, and we immediately
bonded over both being from downstate New York. (Yankees! Yankees!) As if
we had both been repressing a secret life-long love for our best friends,
we rejoiced in having secret affairs with today's hit music station.
Apparently, in college it is again cool to like the things that were once
cool but then became uncool.  Much like the recent reemergence of the
British pop group, the Spice Girls.  Luckily for me, Joel and I being from
the same general vicinity, we are able to carpool when we go home for
breaks from school.  As soon as we get to the Taconic State Parkway, we
immediately switch over and rock it with Fergie for the remaining duration
of the ride.  On our last trip together, joined also by friend my Courtney
who goes to school in Boston, we even called in and got to request Hillary
Duff on air!  We were out of K104 range by that point, but we managed to
call several people and told them to tune in.  Also, as if a gift from God
himself, advances in technology have enabled the LIVE STREAMING of K104
through the internet!  This means that NO MATTER where you are, you can
listen in and be connected with the Hudson Valley's number one hits music
station!

This brings me to the real point of this rant about public radio.
Starting tonight, my very own radio show will begin airing on a weekly
timeslot.  My friend, Nell, and I have joined forces to bring bus drivers
everywhere the option of tuning into our weekly rants on different themes
and delivery of eclectic tunes.  Norm- if you're out there, this one's for
you.

The show is called Broad Topics and it will be streaming
 live Wednesday nights from 11pm to 12am via the internet!
Type this little dingdong into your url bar to listen:

www.clarku.edu/students/rocu

Some Ecard

my roommate, Leah, sent me:


I have been too tired and sleepy and exhausted and pooped and drained and wiped out to post. Instead of posting now, I think I'm going to go to sleep somewhat early.

Forgive me for such a terrible post, but it's kind of a perfect post about insomnia, right? Too tired to write anything exciting?

Chelsea Clinton

spoke at my school yesterday morning. In an attempt to address the request for more social commentary in my blog, I will touch upon this dialog and it's implications on me as a young, American voter. ('Social Commentary' is also the title given to one of the bookshelves in my room containing such works as The Jungle and The Omnivore's Dilemma, amongst others. I am not ashamed to say that my largest shelf belongs to the 'Scifi/Fantasy' categorization.)

My friend, Jeff, told me that I seemed to be very involved in what Ms. Clinton was saying. He said that every time he looked back at me, I would just be staring at her and nodding or shaking my head which he assumed was in agreement/disagreement of specific Hilary platforms. It is true that I agree with some to several of Hilary's ideas, including part of her draft for enacting universal health care, but it is highly doubtful that this is why I was moving my head whenever Jeff saw me. More likely, what was running through my head was one of the following thoughts:

- Immediately upon her entry into the room, I was taken aback by Chelsea Clinton's looks. I half-expected a young, frizzy haired, woman-suit wearing democrat to come clunking in with a busy, heavy step but was much delighted to see something quite different. Chelsea Clinton is the ultimate success story of the invention known as the flat iron. Girl is looking good! First head nod. But wait! I can't be sure that she uses a flat iron! Head shake. What if she had opted for the more drastic, semi-permanent Japanese ion retexturizing process?? Yeah, that has to be it. Nod.

-Shortly thereafter, much of what I heard from Chelsea was a lot of, "I love my mom," "I have never been prouder of anyone," "I am proud of my mom for ab and c," etc. What would I have to say if MY mom were running for President? Has Chelsea ever seen "First Kid" or "My Date with the President's Daughter"? Which one was better? Well, immediately I thought "First Kid" because of Sinbad (head nod.) Although (shake) 'My Date' did have the better intro and outro music and starred Will Friddel from Boy Meets World. Was I brave enough to ask Chelsea's opinion on the matter?- No, she was currently discussing the war in Iraq and I thought my question would be viewed as tasteless.

-For much of the remainder of Chelsea's presence, I stared, baffled at how such a young woman could be so well spoken and composed. I compared Chelsea's public appearance to some of mine- during my speech in front of a few hundred at my high school graduation, I wore a Mickey Mouse graduation cap and slurred all of my words together, the biggest word I used was probably "congratulations." She's got some years on me, though, I'll get there (shakes, nods, shakes.)

Following the talk, people were discussing the Clintons for much of the rest of the day. While I don't know a terrible amount on politics, I knew something that no one else I talked to could recall. What were the Clinton's pets names? Buddy and Socks. With skills like these, who wouldn't want me as an influential spearhead?

Platinum Opportunity

Even better than Gold. If you've ever dreamed of seeing me in a socially compromising position, or would find it entertaining to measure just how uncomfortable I can become in the course of a few minutes, tomorrow is your lucky day.

Come to the ROCU DJ auction in the Grind at 7pm and buy a date with Nell and I- the combo pack. Although, if we actually do sell, I might be a little less uncomfortable (depending on who you are) and that would skew your data. So you have three options: don't come, come and watch us not sell, or come for a bargain and buy us at probably like $2, all of which will be Nell's yielding.

What am I doing?!


EDIT: My mind was just rushed by about 100 names of people who I would definitely NOT want to be bought by. Some of these include: OJ Simpson, a certain someone from high school who I desperately hope won't read this blog and take this as a platinum opportunity, and this man who's name I don't remember who used to tell me he was going to buy me from my mom when I was little. It obviously had a subconscious, lasting effect on me. More to come on that creep at a later date.

Snobbery

That's it.

I refuse to consume any more Worcester city water.

I hold my father completely responsible for this elitist statement.

Update

It's now nearing three a.m. and there is howling outside. This is not coming from a dog of any sort, trust me- I would know. No, this is different. Humanoid in nature. Soft and fierce. The light stays on.

This will give me ample time to read A Man Without a Country, which I desperately need to return to Joe about 7 months ago.

I would go into the living room and select something to watch, but I'm afraid of passing by any open windows, closet doors, couches (under which people may be hiding), etc. You can only facebook strangers for so long (several hours at any given time), and I have been up to date on my celebrity gossip since about 7 this evening.

On a lighter note- today at the grocery store, I treated myself to a box of chocolate teddy grahams. I eat them like this: ear, ear, leg, leg, arm, arm, whole head, body. Delicious AND a workout! Also, to paint an even more explicit picture of the razzle dazzle city I live in, at the grocery store (the best in the area, although I'm not sure thats saying much) Nell looked at me in horror after a furry, scaly tailed creature (likely a "mouse") ran by her feet through the aisle. Later, in the produce section, Leah and I were startled as some sort of winged beast swooped down from the artificial sky (commonly called the ceiling) and nearly scalped us while letting out a ferocious war cry. We were only mildly shocked at the concurrence of these events, and they were not enough to rain on my chocolate teddy parade.

I am too poor to afford juice boxes, one of my favorite anytime treats, so I would be much obliged if my loyal fans could send me some to the follow address to help motivate me in this literary endeavor:
Juliet Moretti
950 Main Street
Box 1418
Worcester, MA 01610

Also acceptable for sending:
Fan Mail
Hate Mail
**Clippings of puppies from magazines/photos/etc. (I need these for a project I am working on)
Money
A photo of yourself
A drawing
Anything else you deem appropriate

Did anyone get my faux paw pun in my last post? I really thought I struck comedic gold with that one..

I'm not alone..

For the past few minutes I have been sitting with Leah on her bed in the dark waiting to hear the voices that she came out of the room twice in fear from.

I told her she had nothing to worry about and that they were just our upstairs neighbors.

I'm now sitting in my room a little too afraid to turn off the lights.

24/7

Today I managed to make a fool out of myself before 9 a.m. Given the sheer probability that I am even awake prior to 9, the odds are completely in favor of me not making a fool of myself this early. Alas, I have defied the odds of embarrassment yet another again.

On this particularly brisk Worcester morning, I was just rounding the corner of Hughes Hall when I was startled by a man walking his dog. (What a delightful upset!) Naturally, I screamed a scream reminiscent of a 4 year old alien child encountering a human life form for the first time. It started with your typical "AHH" and quickly digressed into "AHHeehhhhhawwww, hey Fritz!" The dog, presumably pleased that I knew his name, jumped up on me as I yelped so that I could pet him better. The man, recovering from his first, again presumably, encounter with a 4 year old alien child, looked at me with a tilt of the head and asked, "How do you know my dog's name?"

There are some things for which I am not (publicly) proud, and my innate ability to recall pets' names is one of these things. Realizing I had committed a social faux paw (zing!), I could think of only one reply, "Oh... What? Maybe later. I'm late. Ha.." What?! Needless to say, the rest of my walk to class allowed me to relate more personally to reality show participants that are publically voted off the show and are forced to pack and leave while still on camera...



What he doesn't know is that I could also tell that Fritz is a (rather petite) Irish Setter, from the pointer family-bred as hunting companions, just from looking at him... but let's just keep that between us.