Can't get enough of your love, baby

Remember Freddie Prinze, Jr.? I'll be honest, I had all but forgotten about him until I flipped on the TV this morning and Down to You was playing. Talk about a blast from the past, I remember him as one of my biggest celebrity crushes circa the seventh grade. Except for Scooby Doo, all of his movies were the same, with a rotating cast of girls - boy finds girl, boy dates girl, boy screws it up, boy and girl get back together, presumably happily in love for the rest of eternity. Cheesy for sure, but there's something actually kind of comforting in knowing that they're always going to end up the same - Down to You, She's All That, Head Over Heels, Summer Catch... all the same. And oh, I loved them all. Really, I'm still kind of a sucker for a good chick flick. Actually, any chick flick. Unless it's done so badly it's painful. Either way, Freddie was there during my huge chick flick phase and I'm glad I was reminded of him today. Maybe I'll remember him when we're picking out movies for our Valentine's Day marathon, I did always love Head Over Heels.

Friday, I'm in love

Things I love today:

- The sunshine
- Finally getting a job
- Remembering I have all weekend to do work, why stress now?
- OPI nail polish, especially in Got the Blues for Red
- Wearing dress pants and feeling like a grown up
- Checking things off of my to-do list
- My roommate's black scarf
- The Mongolian Grill that I had for lunch in Warren Towers
- This article that recently resurfaced while I was looking for examples of good writing
- Board games
- Seeing everyone I know in one spot on campus
- Finding lots of good vegetarian/Thai restaurants around Boston
- Surprising songs that come up on my iTunes shuffle

Singing in the Rain...

... except not really, because I'm less than thrilled with this raining situation. For "America's Walking City," Boston seems to be particularly terrible and maintaining its walkability in the winter months in the face of snow, rain and, my favorite, "wintry mix." Today was a wintry mix day - what started out snowing became sleet and then rain. Tragic, really. I didn't go home between the end of class and my meetings because it sucked too much outside for me to walk home. As a result, I sat in Hillel all day and accomplished approximately nothing. But when I did inevitably walk home, at 9:00 pm after a day of class and work, it was horrible. The ground was slippery from the snow and frozen rain, it was cold, and it was still raining, so I was rocking the raincoat under my peacoat and an umbrella. And apparently all rainboots aren't necessarily waterproof when you're walking through a lake because mine leaked. Tragic all around. It could have been worse though - when I got home, two pairs of really sad looking Uggs sat drenched outside the room. Poor roommates. Poor shoes.

Cinderelly, Cinderelly...

Last night at this time, I was playing Cinderella. Not the get swept of your feet by Prince Charming bit, but the slaving away over ridiculous cleaning under the eyes of an unrelenting overseer part. BU decided that, as a favor to its student groups, it would give groups an opportunity to clean Agannis Arena after events in exchange for money for the group. Being the poor, desperate dance group we are, we took the bait and spent our Monday night/early Tuesday morning sweeping, mopping, and picking up trash after the Killers concert. $650 dollars later, my body still hurts.

We actually went through every single row to pick up recyclables and trash. Then a lucky few of us "got" to go to the compacter, where we tossed individual bags of trash inside, only to go back upstairs to mop the rows. Funny story, I've never actually mopped before. (Thanks, Swifer). Those things are heavy. And messy. And entirely counterproductive. But slightly amusing only in the sense that we had quite a few laughs after we broke the mop machine... my first time mopping was entirely unsuccessful.

What started out as fun with Oreos and a trash bag became four hours of terrible unpleasantries. Let me tell you, when it turns 2 AM, I am not a happy camper. Nor are half the people on the team. And walking back a mile and a half at 3 AM, just glorious! But really, people are disgusting - they leave everything on the ground to be picked up by someone else. Gross. Thanks, Killers - your fans rock. At least we didn't have to clean up the 60 pounds of confetti.

These photographs

Today, in an attempt to stave off doing work, I uploaded and posted pictures from the past two weekends. While I was tagging them, I realized that I have a ridiculous amount of tagged pictures on Facebook -- actually over 1600. Ridiculous. Unnecessary. Even if I do like them... and a lot of them, I don't. So today's mission: untag photos. Not because I don't like the way I look in them (because I get SO irritated when people untag just because they think their ears look too big... they just are that size, get over it!), but because there is such a thing as too many photos.

So I'm well on my untagging way! A lot of them are the same - you know how you have that one really photogenic picture that everyone in the group needs a copy of, so you wait, posed, for everyone's to get taken, and then 10 copies of the same picture are tagged of you. Entirely unnecessary. One will do. So today I'm paring down my numbers, wish me luck!

Rest in peace

I've been neglecting this. What was so simple and enjoyable when I was on my couch in snowy Minnesota seems to have faded along with all of my free time once I returned to my Boston brownstone. Nevertheless, I really want to keep this up - and I'm working on it! It's just... there are so many distractions! Yea, there's school - this semester has more busy work than I've had probably since my senior year of high school. It's kind of ridiculous, I actually have weekly assignments for the first time in two years. On top of trying to keep up with all of the readings. Thoroughly unpleasant.

As if I didn't waste enough of my time on classwork and extracurriculars (along with jobs/internships I'm desperately trying to find), I happen to have had a slight incident with the Twilight series. Nothing too serious, I promise. Sam was reading it and then finished it just in time for me to start when I was waiting for my printer to install. It's just... addicting. I've got two down, two to go, and I just don't know what to do with myself.

I'll be honest, I'm a little ashamed. I never really intended to get into them, just to read them for the experience. And it's not like I'm obsessed with them. I swear. Eugh. There's just some quality about them that hooks you in and creates this intense need to know what's going to happen. Even if you know, deep down, the way it'll end. It's the same thing with chick flicks and trashy romance novels, which I've also been known to give myself over to. And really, I think that's what Twilight is to me, basically. The vampires don't really make a difference - if I want those, I'll stick with Buffy and Spike, thank you. One friend of mine noted that Twilight fell short in her opinion because it tried to make it seem incredibly plausible that vampires were living next door and that you may fall in love with one at any second. This as opposed to the world created in Harry Potter where you knew you wouldn't be involved in any wizards. But I'm not sure that that's what pulls people into this phenomenon. Harry Potter hit everyone across age and gender barriers. I'm pretty sure that those afflicted by Twilight are mostly teen/young adult girls and those others susceptible to a tragic love story (ie. me, sap that I am). And really, I think afflicted is the right word - it's like having a 24 hour bug. And you can finish the books in that amount of time, if you're driven enough. But, as all teen obsessions do, many get transfixed for longer. In fact, my friend's 15-year-old sister told her that "any fiction other than Twilight just wasn't worthwhile." Eek! I wouldn't go that far at all, but it's certainly engaging... like a toned-down trashy romance novel. Only more dangerous. Kind of.

I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad

There are some things that, at 2 am the night before I leave, hold a huge level of curiousity over me. Right now? Behind my dresser in my room at home. A space seemingly long forgotten, a graveyard of artifacts that have tumbled into dusty obscurity. And while packing tonight I remembered my need to look back. So, armed with bare hands and a fear of reaching into a spider's home, I pushed back a set of drawers to explore behind the dresser.

And oh, did I find a lot of dust. I may have developed a dust allergy just from the time I spent back there. But I found a lot of things. Two notes passed between my best friend of the time and myself, noting jokes I still remember and crushes so terrible I must have blocked them out from my memory. I found a necklace given to me by another former best friend and actually remember opening up the oyster (which smelled terrible) to get the pearl. Two bobbleheads - Christian Guzman (whose head won't stay on) and Doug Mientkiewicz - both players during the Twins heyday, no longer with them, but signs of good times that were not really that long ago. A signed The Academy Is... poster, now hanging on my wall. I may not be the hugest TAI fan, but it was pretty awesome when I got it. That show, Something Corporate at the Quest my sophomore year of high school, was entirely fantastic. Almost like a relic from high school days, the club doesn't even exist anymore. The cast from when I broke my wrist in the 8th grade. Despite the ew factor, it's iteresting - signed by everyone I was friends with then, a lot of whom I'm not anymore. And by the people who worked in the Buckle - the store we frequented weekly, almost to a stalker point that year. Signal the nostalgia and pondering now. A souvenir cup from the bat mitzvah of a girl I haven't spoken to in at least 2 years, more Express tags than I knew I had clothes, a penny key chain from San Francisco and tons more.

I left the dresser for my bookshelf. Beyond the basics there are books from my childhool, bringing back memories of reading by the hallway light when I was definitely supposed to be asleep. My siddurim from Wheels and Pilgrimage, a copy of Are You My Mother? from my IGB overseer, a handmade scrapbook from an old friend who I definitely should get back in touch with. I always find it interesting to look back - not just to wax nostalgic, but to actually see the change. Hopefully it's for the better.