Day Forty something...

Today, the book instructs me to write a proper diary entry of my day. Winston Churchill apparently did this while he was commanding a huge army in a World War. Therefore, I should also be able to do this. Let me tell you, internet following, my life is significantly more busy and stressful than Winston Churchill's.

Not really, but you can let me believe that. Thanks.

Dear Diary,

Today I woke up at least seven times to the horrible sound of my alarm clock going off. It was terrible. Although I should have gotten out of bed at 8:00 a.m., I postponed this treacherous task until 8:33. I took a shower, did my make up (the best make up ever!), put on some clothes, and trudged downstairs to get some caffeine and food into my system. For these things to occur, I had to also wash my bowl and thermos.

I finished getting ready and got into my car to go to school. Some assface who obviously doesn't have anywhere to be at ten o'clock sharp was driving slow, but I got a really good parking spot.

My first class consisted of my insane professor talking about nothing relevant for a half an hour, and then my insane professor trying to figure out how to use the DVD player. I'm not sure how he doesn't know how to work it yet, because we watch movies all the time but somehow this technology is beyond him. I understand that he's old and all but come on! He presses so many god damned buttons you'd think he would figure it out by now.

I spent my time downloading music and trying to play Farmville, but it was running pretty slow. When my professor finally let us out five minutes late, I went to the bus and crushed myself between two boys who find it necessary to spread their legs approximately 180 degrees. One of them had bad breath. I turned up my music so that I couldn't hear the retarded freshmen girls talking and looked the other way.

Luckily it's Friday so I was able to obtain a seat in Baldy Walkway pretty easily, but the douchebag who's in both of my classes today also obtained a seat near me, and I can hear him talking about stupid things and listening to terrible music.

Then I had a delicious chicken salad wrap at a delicious deli. Then I had another class and went to work for 8 hours and 45 very long minutes. There were a lot of Canadians involved but I also had a blue glittery bouncy ball for awhile and then I had a piano thing that makes meow noises but then my manager took them both away and I was le sad.

Then I came home and baked a cake for Matt Lang because his birthday was recently and it was delicious but really dangerous to light and cut while slightly tipsy, which I did. Plus the boys attacked me. Now I am writing some blog! There are people in my house! A couple left! Now I am going!

Hugs and kisses!
Yellenahs

Many Days

Alright, so I've been super lazy. Possibly the laziest. It's been at least 10 days since I've updated (but who's counting), and that was just to tell you that I'm lazy. Now that my second round of tests is over, I will probably be better. I don't have any more schoolwork to get done until December, so you've got my full attention for about 20 days. Maybe I'll even get ahead so that I won't be freaking out come December!

Wishful thinking.

Anyway, I'm not gonna go back through every day individually because that would just be really long and boring and you're not THAT interested. Well, maybe John is because he's a gimp, but that's another story. (Love you, John!)

Here are some things that you missed: Say Nothing Day (I didn't talk for much of the day because I spent a good majority of it either in class or cleaning my room excessively), Be On the Look Out for the Paranormal (as per usual), Ignore Today (well accomplished), Go to Church (not accomplished. I don't like churches that much unless they're cathedrals...in Europe), and Apply for a Knighthood (there's no way they would give it to me).

Today is Walk Barefoot on Grass day. Luckily, it's warm enough out to accomplish this. Which is also quite strange, because I happen to live in Buffalo. Where winter usually begins in the beginning of October. However, the grass is kind of wet and my toes get cold pretty easily. Bad idea.

Don't worry, after this I promise to be more consistent. I pinky-promised Rachael. With both hands.

Days Thirty-One Through Thirty-Three

Yellenahs says she's lazy, but I'm the one who's lazy. I use this blog to avoid doing things like homework. And I really need to do homework. I need to step up my game in general this semester.
Oh well.

Day Thirty-One: Nauru Awareness Day!
Today was a day for learning about the tiny Pacific island nation of Nauru. The book wants me to send them a postcard to let them know thay haven't been completey forgotten, but upon researching Nauru, I decided they're probably grateful the world has forgotten them. Formerly known as "Pleasant Island," it's really rich, has had only a small handful of tribal wars, one flu epidemic that killed a few hundred people, and a bloodless, though politically messy, squabble with Australia over gaining independence. It's had some trouble getting off it's feet since then in the government area, but honestly, only about 8000 people live there, and they're all too fat and diabetic t0 cause much trouble- over 90% of them are above the world average BMI. Which might not be saying much when you consider that that number include starving Ethiopian refugees...

...or maybe not. Yes, it certainly sucks to be Nauru, simultaneously the worlds smallest and largest island nation.


Day Thirty-Two: Tonight, Control Your Dreams
My friend the book told me that today I should focus on three objects very hard all day and see if they crop up in my dreams. The objects were a midget, an aeroplane, and a hedgehog. I thought about them all day and very intensely as I was falling asleep.
I didn't dream about them.

I wish I could dream this cute. But once I did have a dream that giant tennis shoes were licking me, and when they did, I tasted ice cream. I didn't taste like ice cream to the tennis shoes, I tasted ice cream in my mouth, even though I wasn't eating any. It was a beautiful sunny day and I'm pretty sure it was my birthday. There were balloons and I was laughing and laughing and being licked repeatedly by huge sneakers. It was the happiest feeling in the world. Best dream I ever had.


Day Thirty-Three: Be On the Lookout for the Paranormal
I'm always on the lookout for the paranormal. I believe that the truth is out there and I'm keeping my eyes wide open so I don't miss it. But today I took the job especially seriously. In the morning I was babysitting my cousins (at 6am, yeah, my life is awesome :/) and I'm pretty sure I saw a tiny child-sized demon run across their dark living room. I think it was possessing my cousins too, because they were being more evil than usual, and one threw up and another had a bloody nose (disgusting expulsion of bodily fluids is always a sign of paranormal activity).
The other weird thing about today was that people were being unusually nice. As soon as I walked into my first class, a girl I sit by said "Hey, your hair looks really good today. Like really good." Then I was in an elevator trying to get my coat on in preparation to step out into a climate that is fast beginning to resemble an arctic tundra, and I felt a hand at my back. It was a cute old man helping me with my coat.
Tiny shadow demons and an unusually active milk of human kindness? Obviously something is up. I'll call a paranormal investigator just as soon as I'm done washing that black slime off my walls. It keeps oozing out in the shape of very inhospitable words. Oxyclean should do the trick. The ghost of Billy Mays wouldn't lie to me. Would he?

How Lazy I Am

Hey guys. I know I'm behind on posts. I'll probably write them all during class tomorrow. It's not that I'm not still changing my life, I'm just soooo lazy about updating. Sorry!

Day Thirty: Ignore Today. (Anailuj)

Today is Halloween and I kind of did ignore it (although I'm pretty sure the book means to ignore today as far as these exhausting tasks go. I was actually not even going to make a post for today, but I wanted to talk about myself instead). I love Halloween to an almost unreasonable degree, but I celebrated it yesterday and did Dio de los Muertos things today. Dio de los Muertos is the Mexican Day of the Dead, and it is rad. I made quesadillas and listened to salsa music with my friend Amanda.

I would like to take this moment to place a personal ad in this blog.

Single female seeks single male with whom to dance to salsa music.
Must be capable of cooking while enjoying the exotic sounds of
Central America. No cats.

Salsa music is very near and dear to my heart for reasons I'd rather not discuss, and I feel like if there's such thing as soulmates, mine would also enjoy spontaneous salsa parties for two, and have the ability to salsa dance gracefully and skillfully, perfectly in sync with me even though we don't actually know how to salsa dance.

*Sigh*

P.S: A very happy Samhain (pronounced "SOW-in") to our pagan readers...if we have any.
P.P.S.: Sometimes girls do pretty good covers of Danzig songs.

Day Twenty-Nine: Dial a Phone Number at Random and Read This Script with a Deep Southern Accent (Anailuj)

The book gives this LONG script that's all about Jesus and how cool he is. I know I was supposed to just pick a random phone number, but I thought it would be so much more fun to call my brother instead! But I couldn't use my phone, obvs, because he would know it was me. So I used John's.
My brother answered the phone, but hung up after "You know, without God, without Jesus, we have no hope. Why? Well, because we know that the standard of God's righteousness is Law, a law of the Ten Commandments..."

So I called again. This time he did not pick up, so I left a message. Unfortunately the message time ran out by the time I got to "...having to slay a lamb for your sins would definitely keep a man on guard not to sin too much because otherwise he would lose his livestock pretty quick, wouldn't he? Well anyway, (praise be unto God)...."
So I called again and finished the script. I'm very persistant.

I concluded the fun times by showing my brother the script and asking if it sounded familiar.
"Hey," he exclaimed with an air of recognition, even revelation. "I was getting calls from this today!...Oh."
The biggest mystery for him was where in the world I was calling from. Apparently getting a call from an unfamiliar area code is the MOST CONFUSING THING IN THE WORLD.

Day Twenty-eight: Plan Your Death Row Meal (Yellenahs)

There are so many things I want to eat before I die! I want all of them! I just love food.

For an appetizer I would like taco dip with tortilla chips, and then a salad. A delicious dinner salad, like from the Olive Garden. Probably that one precisely. They have the best salad. Oh and breadsticks. I want Olive Garden salad and breadsitcks. Taco dip is kind of an entirely different region but whatever.

For dinner I would like 1.2 pounds of asparagus because it's my favorite, mashed red potatoes with the skins left on, that really delicious garlic bread that they make at the bakery at the grocery store and put in a silver bag that says "Garlic Bread," and my grandma's macaroni salad. It must be specifically the grocery store garlic bread and grandma's mac salad or IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH. For the protein I would like my mother to make me some fried chicken the special delicious way she does it with special sauce. I love special sauce. Wanna know what's in it? TOO BAD, it's a secret.

For dessert I would like some delicious chocolate, preferably milk but I really like dark, too. I would like one of grandma's cut-out cookies. Tiramisu. Mint chocolate chip ice cream. And maybe something else that I have not yet thought of. I REALLY like dessert. OH pumpkin cheesecake! Yes, that shall be my last dessert. I would like some fruit thrown in there too, because I really like fruit.

Throughout the meal I will be sippin' on apple cider, and I'll probably take a white chocolate mocha with my dessert, thank you.

Commence mission: die happy.

Day Twenty-Eight: Choose Your Final Meal on Death Row

Can you ask for a particular person to cook your final meal? Because I don't want my last food on this Earth (before I'm reincarnated by a marine mammal) to be prepared by some crappy prison chef. I want my mommy to make it! I want my mommy to make me a final meal consiting of a smorgasbord of my favorite childhood meals. Macaroni and cheese, chicken pepperkosh with dumplings, veggie lasagne, butternut squash soup, and stuffed bell peppers.
I also want a salad. But I do not want my mommy to make the salad. I have a thing where I don't really dig on my mom's salads, even though everyone else raves about them. I only like salads from restaurants. It doesn't even really matter which one. I love plain, iceberg lttuce restaurant salads. With ranch or italian dressing. But the best restaurant salad I ever had was from The White Linen Tea House, and it had mandarin oranges, raspberries, and a strawberry vinagrette dressing on it. Delicious.

To drink I want a Dr. Pepper and a water with lemon.
And dessert would be apple crisp from Denny's with vanilla ice cream, and dessert chai, also from White Linen Tea House.

Days Twenty-six and Twenty-seven

Day Twenty-six: Choose What You'd Like to be Reincarnated As

Now, I know that the point of reincarnation is to move up in the cosmic world. You're supposed to be reincarnated as a higher life form so you're closer to Nirvana. Who doesn't want to be close to Nirvana?

What I really want to be reincarnated as is a boy. But only if when I die after being a boy, I get to remember both my lifetime as a girl and as a boy, so that I can compare them and make a fair decision as to which I prefer.

This is not to say that a being male is a higher life form, because it MOST certainly is not. However, I always want to see what it'd be like to be on that side. I love being female, especially because I get to wear pretty make up and get my way because I have awesome boobs. But being a boy seems pretty easy and fun. I always felt that I'd make a pretty good guy. I'd enjoy it, and I think I'd be nice without being the kind of guy who's stuck in "nice guys always finish last." Sometimes, though, I just want to be able to wake up ten minutes before I have to be somewhere and still look fine without wearing make up or putting on pretty clothes. Oh, and my clothes would ALWAYS fit and I wouldn't have to try on 17 pairs of jeans to find some that don't squeeze in all the wrong places and sag in all the others.

If I HAVE to be a higher life form, I would be a cat. Now, I know that a lot of you hate cats, but I happen to love them and I think they're a higher life form. Or maybe a horse! They're so pretty and wonderful. Kitties and horsies! Yay!

Day Twenty-seven: Don't Use the Words "Yes" or "No"

When I woke up in the morning and discovered this rule, I figured it was pretty much impossible. I don't talk that much during the day usually, except for that yesterday I sort of did. But I think I did okay not saying yes or no too much. When I remembered not to, I thought back to some of the most recent things I had said and discovered that I hadn't used them.

Mostly I forgot about it. Except for when I was texting Anailuj, and I used the word "indeed" a lot instead of saying "yeah" or "yes." I like to say indeed better, anyway. It's a good word.

I think it's pretty possible to get through a day without saying those all-powerful words. It's so convenient to have them, but if we didn't I think we would probably still survive as a race.

Day Twenty-Seven: Don't Use the Words "Yes" or "No" (Anailuj)

I thought this would be easy because I do so little talking during my school day, but the words yes and no, and their derivatives, "nah" and "yeah" just come so naturally it was impossible to keep them from leaving my mouth.
Especially when I got to work where I'm constantly telling the kids "No, don't hit him," "No, get off of that," "No, don't eat that," "No, don't scream," or "No, don't jump on me."
It was fun thinking of alternatives for those two words, but I usually forgot to use them. Here's the one's I came up with:
NO:
negatory
nu-uh
nope
never
I should think not!


YES:
certainly
indubitably
without a doubt
concur
oui
preciscely
indeed
ja

Day Twenty-Six: Choose What You'd Prefer to Be Reincarnated As (Anailuj)

I would definitely want to be reincarnated as a Humpback whale. Or dolphin. I'm a swimmer, and no one knows better than a swimmer that humans are just not made for the water. We're clumsy and bulky and we don't belong there. But animals like these ones swim more gracefully and with less effort than we walk on land. We evolved to be bipedal land animals, but they don't seem to have evolved to fit into any role, they seem like they were always the way they are, and their environment fits into them, not the other way around.
Whales are the biggest creatures on this Earth since the dinosaurs. But you don't see them rushing anywhere like a giant angry tank, or tearing into anything with big nasty claws and teeth. They just are. they swim around and sift through the water for krill and take care of their families. They travel together and sleep together. The whale's motto is Live and Let Be. Nothing bothers the whale. It's so immersed in serenity and what I'm pretty sure is all-knowingness, all of our stupid human troubles are just a blip on the cosmic map of the whale's world.
And have you ever seen dolphins play? They were made for play. It's their job. They don't know what work is, or hate. Even things that are necessary for them to stay alive, like catching fish, are just games to them.

Anyway, that's all assuming that by the time it's my turn to be reincarnated we haven't managed to wipe out all the dolphns and whales. And it's assuming I deserve to be reincarnated as a dolphin or whale. The whole logic behind the belief of reincarnation is that if you do well in this life, you chock up lots of good karma by fulfilling all your dharmic obligations, you come back as a higher life-form. But if you're crappy to other people and you never try to better yourself, you come back as a lower life-form, like a a snail, or a bacterium, or Shirley Phelps.
So here's hoping I do well enough to get to be a whale in my next life. Because I'm pretty sure whales get a lot closer to Nirvana, or the Atman, or Heaven, or becoming a Bodhisatva (or whatever you want to call the final state of peace for the mind, body, and soul) in their wise and wonderful pondering of the infinite nature of the universe than any human ever did.

Day Twenty-Five: Things You Will Never Do Before You Die (Anailuj)

Think this is a pretty decent idea, coming to terms with the fact that there are some things you will never do. The human lifetime is pretty limited, and I think if you figure out what you're not going to waste time doing, you can focus on what you are going to do. This was tough for me because I kind of think I can do anything. But it was a big long list, so I only chose the things that were actually difficult for me to come to terms with. Or the things that were weird and I just had to post them. But there were also some things that I will never do anyway, for my own good, like inject heroin or become a world chess champion. So.

Things I Will Never Do:
Climb Evererest (I would love to have that kind of endurance)
Have a sex change, just for a day (what??)
Grow a beard (I like beards)
smoke a cat (again, what???!!)
discover the lost city of Atlantis (I really want Atlantis to be real)
host a game show (I look bad in a suit)
become pope
play the lead in Swan Lake (I am not graceful)
come out of a black hole alive (and not stretched out like spaghetti)
bring back Bambi (John killed Bambi, and his mom, and ate them both)

Things I Have Already Done:
wore colored lenses (unintentionally)
spoke in tongues (I was an imaginitive child)
used a semi-colon (the semi-colon is my favorite punctuation mark)
talked to strangers (it's the greatest thing; you should try it)
got a tattoo
fought the power
been used as a manga character (our friend Julia does cute little anima comics of us and I'm couting them for this)
caused an intergalactic rift (I was involved an a love triagle with two alien warlords who swear to blow up the Earth just as soon as they get out of the Intergalactic High-Security Penitentiary)
wore a cape
oozed charm

Things I Just Might Do Someday:
Learn Russian
Become an artist
Rob a bank (I've already stolen a car, so it's like I'm half way there)
Read Proust
become a rock star
overthrow a regeime, start a revolution (I feel like they would go together)
marry someone I just met (I like spontanaity)
learn pole dancing
exterminate a zombie (I am prepared for when this day comes)
visit space

Things John Has Already Done (Besides kill Bambi and his mom):
Grown a third nipple
shot the last buffalo
become a fitness instructor
licked an electric eel
been eaten by cannibals

Days Twenty-Two Through Twenty-Four (Anailuj)

Hi, I'm a slacker who hasn't updated in a week. I know that wehn I don't blog, time stands still for you, and for that I apologize.

Day Twenty-Two: Meet Someone in Ten Years
I have sort of a cute and sentimental idea for this that I haven't yet exectuted. I'll let you know when I do.

Day Twenty-Three: Plastic Fantastic!
There' a couple areas in which I think this book errs, and this is one of them. I don't need anybody to tell me I'm not good enough. Especially that creep Yellenahs found. I also don't need anybody groping on me or writing on me with a marker to show me what needs to be bigger, what needs to be smaller, what needs to go up, and what needs to go down. Not that i have any kind of thing against people who do need plastic surgery. I think it's a financial drain, but if it makes you happy, go for it.
But mostly I have an issue with being groped by a stranger.

Day Twenty-Four: Barter Day
Today My brother and I bartered over me finishing his essay for him. He offered to clean my room, but I don't want my room to be clean (how would I ever find anything?!). Then he offered to make me a sandwich, which was sort of appealing, but I couldn't let him know that. A good barterer always drives up the price. I offered to edit it for him but he said it was all or nthing. He too, drives a hard bargain.
Anyway, I eventually got distracted by something and he finished his essay by himself like and honest and hard-working student.

Day Twenty-five: Things You Will Never Do Before You Die (Yellenahs)

The book gives a long list of random things that many people do/do not do before they die. Many of them are life goals and dreams, and others are really strange things. I've been waiting for this day. I've been dreaming about it and looking forward to it. It took all of my willpower to not fill out this list weeks ago.

There's a bit of reverse psychology involved in this day. By choosing things you will never do before you die, you effectively also have a list of things you probably will do before you die. I think this is pretty cool. I'm a big fan of making lists of life goals.

Some of the things are so strange, however, that I just couldn't bring myself to say I would never do them. I don't want to limit myself!

Here are some things I will never do before I die:

• Climb Everest (I will never be that athletic)
  
• Become World Chess Champion (I probably couldn't beat a 5 year old)
  
• Rob a bank (too risky)
  
• Walk to the North Pole (refer to Everest)
  
• Learn the Periodic Table by heart (fuck Chemistry)
  
• Grow a tail (seems impossible)
  
• Grow a beard (I'm female)
  
• Master the yo-yo (lame)
  
• Sleep with a whore of Babylon (gross)
  
• Become Pope (again, female)

Some things I'm not limiting myself from:

• Travel at warp speed
• Visit Bhutan
• Read Proust
• Watch all of Bergman
• Exterminate a zombie
• Write in cuneiform
• Start my own religion
• Track down Lord Lucan
• Travel back in time
• Invent a typeface

Things I plan to do/probably will do/have done that are on the list:

• Learn Italian
• Kiss a stranger
• Fall for advertising (have you seen the Droid commercial?!)
  
• Wish upon a star
• Get a tattoo
• Proclaim myself empress
• Ride a Harley
• Save the world
• Become grumpy when old
• Experience an earthquake
  

Days Twenty-three and Twenty-four

Day Twenty-three: Plastic Fantastic!

Today we were instructed to make an appointment with a plastic surgeon, just to see what they would say. As it was Saturday and offices were closed, this was an impossible task. I planned to do it today, Monday, to make up for it.

I found a plastic surgeon quite close to my house, but his website is totally creeping me out. The guy's name is Dr. Koch. That just sounds like he LOVES staring at breasts all day. I'm not interested in going and getting felt up by him. His website is also creepy because there are a bunch of before/after pictures that morph on the screen and a lot of naked women. I happen to be sitting in a very public place while writing this and I was totally just staring at some girl's tits.

While many women in the good ole U.S. need to make themselves feel better by getting cut up and rearranged, I'm actually quite happy with myself. I'm nowhere near perfect but I've come to terms with that and I wouldn't want to ruin it by having someone tell me every little thing that's wrong. I'm not quite that comfortable with myself yet. So instead of making the appointment, I'm just gonna keep on trying to be happy with me. The way I am.

Day Twenty-four: Barter Day

Today John did his chores and I told him he was a good boy. That seems like a pretty fair trade to me.

Anailuj also spent about an hour and a half hot gluing fringe to my Halloween costume dress, so I told her that I'd make her some cookies for all her hard work and effort. It was really quite amusing, and I wish that someone were there to witness her getting all close and personal with my breasts and other private parts. So much more innuendo could have been made.

I also worked at Starbucks in exchange for free drinks and pastries.

Day Twenty-Two: Agree to Meet Someone in Ten Years (Yellenahs)

Today, the book gave a little agreement to make with someone to meet them in ten years' time. This assignment was approximately as scary as "Introduce Yourself to Someone" day, but I managed to complete it.

For the convenience of not retrieving my book and not committing plagiarism on the interwebz, the contract read something like this:

We, the undersigned, agree to meet at [Mighty Taco, Sheridan] on [10/24/19] at [12:30 a.m.]. In case we have changed beyond recognition, we agree to wear [yellow sunglasses]. In case we have nothing to talk about, here are some current events: [first black president of the U.S., swine flu, terrible economy, global warming]. See you in ten years!

Yes, I realize it's slightly late, being at 12:30 a.m. on the 24th. But I consider this to still be Friday. It's not the next day if I haven't gone to sleep yet. So it's fine.

I handed the note to the cashier in the drive thru at Mighty Taco. John told the poor boy that I am, in fact, crazy. Then the boy shook his head at me as I urged him to keep the paper because that's his copy. He needs to remember! I don't think he was too pleased. As a fellow member of the service industry, I know that I would have been extremely pleased to make such an agreement with a customer. In fact, it would make my whole night. It would break up the monotony of rude person after rude person. So he should have been way happier about that.

Oh well. Not everyone appreciates good fun. I can't wait to see him at midnight-thirty on October the 24th, 2019!

P.S. My 10-year old cousin has swine flu. Those of you who believe in higher powers should pray for her. And for yourselves, because I could carry it from her to you. And you don't want that.

Day Twenty-One: Patriotism Day (Anailuj)

Before I start I just want to point out that Jimi Hendrix had a gorgeous voice. Obviously he was one of the best guitarists ever, but I just think that his mind-blowing vocals get talked about enough. His voice was like melting chocolate, and I think it's especially evident in the song Angel that he should be just as appreciated for his vox and his guitar-playing. That's all.

Anyway, today I was especially patriotic about Hungary. It's capital, Budapest, was a center of Renaissance Humanism (after it had to be rebuilt because it was pillaged by the Mongols, but who wasn't pillaged by the Mongols?), and it has all sorts of nice buildings and vampirey history.

Hungary also has wonderful food with lots of paprika and dumplings, which ahve a funny name but are the BEST. It also has gypsies! Lots of gypsies! I love gypsies! They have great music! I'm pretty convinced that my ancestors were gypsies and vampires. Unfortunately, both vampires and gypsies tend to get a bad rap all over Eastern Europe. Only the vampires have done anything to really deserve the bad reputation.

Other people from Hungary include my great-grandmother, who I was named after. She was one of 9 kids, and she was the only one who got to leave Hungary to come to Canada to work for her aunt. She got married to my grandfather there, then he smuggled her over the border into the US. And that is pretty badass.

First thing I would do if I visited Hungary: Enjoy a spa bath that ues the natural thermal springs that are all over the country.
Second thing I would do: Track down some vampires and convince them to make me one of their own. This typically doesn't work, which is why being an expert on the extermination of the undead always comes in handy.

Anyway, yay for Hungary.

Day Twenty-One: Patriotism Day (Yellenahs)

Today is Patriotism Day! I choose to be patriotic about Moldova. Never heard of Moldova? That's okay, me either.

Moldova is a tiny little European country between Romania and the Ukraine where the people enjoy stuffed cabbage rolls and have really beautiful architecture. They're basically Romanian. The area has been attacked by pretty much every group of armed men ever, and the history reads like a history of Middle Earth. I'm actually 99% positive that Tolkien stole all of his ideas straight from Dacia/Thracia (the early conquerors of Moldova...2000 years ago), complete with strange words like Burebista and Muntenia.

It's probably also full of vampires (not glittery vampires, real bad ass suck your blood whither in the sun vampires) because as a former part of Dacia, it was probably also part of Transylvania, and therefore Dracula resides here. WHICH MAKES IT THE BEST COUNTRY EVER.

I'm having so many patriotic feelings about Moldova I can hardly contain myself. I feel like it's probably a pretty interesting place, with a rich history and culture. I'd like to go there someday.

Except for that it's the poorest nation in Europe. But it's got a low unemployment rate. They'll probably do okay. At least they have vampires.

This is their national anthem. It's beautiful. You'll feel most patriotic if you listen to the national anthem while staring at a map or picture of Moldova. Try it!

Day Twenty: Poetry Day (Yellenahs)

I used to write poems all the time. I used to have reasons to write poems. Now that I'm not nearly as angsty, I find less to write about. They were pretty okay, for someone who didn't know the first thing about poetry or meter or had really ever read that many poems in her life.

I'm not an English major. I have no ambition to write you a 20-line poem in iambic pentameter, partially because I'm probably not good at writing in iambic pentameter. The other part is that I'm busy drinking a glass of wine, which should pump my creative juices but I don't think it is. Can I just draw you a picture instead?

Mannnnnnnn.

"Mercy," cried the Popinjay to the Pope,
"I'm not so fond of these walls all in taupe!"
Replied he, "I can't even see color,
Twas the godforsaken decorator!"

Is that iambic pentameter? Is that a poem? Why isn't the phrase iambic pentameter IN iambic pentameter? The words are so long, it should be.

Over and out.

Day Twenty: Poetry Day (Anailuj)

My facebook account is down, so I guess I have to spend my time doing something stimulating and creative instead of harvesting my squash on FarmVille. The book provides the first line of a poem in iambic pentameter* and wants me to write one line to go with it, then send that line to the book's website so they can be put together to create the world's longest poem. But I'm an English major, and an ambitious one, and I have decided to compose an entire poem for you.**

Better get into brooding artsy poet mode.

World-weary countenance- check.

Tortured soul- check.

Mug of tea- check

Book by world-weary, tortured, tea-drinking author (Kerouac's Visions of Gerard)- check.

Music by world-weary, totured, tea-drinking musician (City and Colour, Confessions)- check.

Note: I don't know for sure that Dallas Green of City and Colour/Alexisonfire drinks tea, but I feel like he probably enjoys a nice toasty mug of it now and again. I'm of the opinion that tea is the fuel that powers the left side of our brains. That's the artsy half.

See how brooding and artistic he is? I'm pretty sure there's a mug of tea in this picture but you can't see it because it got cut out. But for now I shall stop wishing that Dallas, his perfect voice, and his indie geekdom were mine to have and to hold, and write a poem for you. The book gave me the first line. It's what i would call "a doozy." Here goes.

"Mercy," cried the Popinjay to the Pope,

"For I have not yet given up all hope

That your style, though absurd it may look,

Can be remedied if I use this book."

Out from his suit the Popinjay produced

A sturdy wooden box all made of spruce.

And from this box the Popinjay pulled out

A book that in the fashion world held clout.

"What Not to Wear" the cover said in gold.

The Pope agreed, though not completely sold.

For the idea that the Pope requir'd

This foppish man to pick out his attire

Would shock God-fearing Catholics out of mind

For they questioned men of flamboyant kind.

But his hat! His robes! They just would not do!

They laughed at him on ET, in US too!

And so the Popinjay used his fab plan

To refresh the wardrobe of God's main man.

But in the end that task was all in vain:

His new look rivaled Prince in Purple Rain.

FIN.

*In case you spaced out, slept in, or skipped English 101, iambic pentamer is a poetic meter (that means rhythm) consisiting of ten syllables, the first stressed, the second unstressed, the third stressed, etc. It sounds like this: "da-DAH, da-DAH, da-DAH, da-DAH, da-DAH."

**But it will never be as wonderful as the impromptu poem I wrote and texted to John early one morning.

Pretend to Be a Secret Agent (Anailuj)

Waited as instructed for grey car at 1300 hours. Waved at it. Driver looked at me funny. Think it was wrong car. Also inspected all of John's things for electronic bugs while Yellenahs distracted him with cookies. May have found something. Will destroy by putting in toilet. Can't be too careful.

(I'm going for paranoid secret agent, but I think I'm doing a better impression of Rorschach. In a perfect world I wouldn't need to link you to that page, but not everyone appreciates the graphic novel.)

In other news:
-The doing jumping jacks in the early morning thing is really working out for me. It's so refreshing, and I feel better on the days I do it than the days I don't.
-I want to make an addendum to Gay Day in the form of Shirley Manson, although I think her obsession with PETA is pretty annoying. I don't even know what that is, or how PETA got their hands on it. But if the opportunity to be with Shirley arose and she refused me because she found out she wasn't on my list of lesbian-potentials, I'd never forgive myself. I mean, if I wanted to hook up with a ginger, which...actually, why would I? I may have to reconsider you, Shirl.
-Kill Something Day has been pretty successful so far. I refuse to lose.

Day Nineteen: Pretend to Be a Secret Agent (Yellenahs)

No one can know. This blog was a pretext to get in touch with you. Your government needs you. Don't look up now, they are watching you through your webcam and/or tracking your movements via the GPS enabled in your cell phone. The next time a man with blue eyes wearing a topcoat walks by you and looks at his watch, nod at him. I have sent him, and he will take you to headquarters. Upon arrival, you will undergo a series of tests to determine your competence.

I was recruited through the book, and have been sent to find other worthy subjects. At 1300 today I stood outside and waved at the gray car. It took me to my supervisor, but no one may know his name. He gave me the mission.

I am now on the look out. I'm on the verge of learning the Truth.

This post will self-destruct in 5..., 4..., 3...

Days Seventeen and Eighteen: Eat Nothing But Asparagus; Kill Something (Anailuj)

I did not eat any asparagus on Sunday. Variety is the spice of like. Without difference there is nothing. We only experience anything because we recognize, sometimes without realizing it, that is it different from other things we experience. Difference is everything. Difference is the motor that keeps the world spinning. Everything in the world manifests itself through its difference from other things; our entire being comes from difference. Yeah, I'm all caught up on my de Saussure and Heidigger, how about you?
My point is that if I experience nothing but asparagus (or any other food for that matter) all day, I will experience nothing. Orally, at least. But I'm also sick which means my nose is stuffed up and there's fluid in my head, so I'm not experiencing things olfactorily or auditorily all that well either.
And I totally agree with Yellenahs that this task could have been better. It should have been a day of fasting if anything. We're so spoiled we don't even realize that getting to eat three meals, or even one meal, a day is a privelege that not everybody shares.

For Kill Something Day, I decided to take the advice of a friend and kill this virus that has invaded my body. You think you're going to lay seige to Anailujinople and turn my Hagia Sophias into little influenza mosques where you'll worship the gods of the cold and flu season? You think you're going to prevent me from screaming at the top of my lungs at the haunted house I have every intention of visiting this weekend? Think again, little flu germs. I'm taking high doses of echinacea and vitamin C and will NOT being seeing a doctor because I've lost faith in modern medicine. You think you're going to go away and just leave me with a sinus infection that I won't be able to shake until Spring? YOU CAN JUST SUCK IT.

See, this is why I don't let us all eat out of the same big pot when I make mac n cheese. Community mac n cheese spreads viral disease!

5 points if you got my seige of Constantinople metaphor. Also, I am deeply sorry for that seige of Constantinople metaphor.

Day Sixteen - Eighteen (Yellenahs)

I'm really bad at doing anything over the weekend. I'm not capable of having a job, having a life, and completing all of the homework I inevitably left until Sunday night. On top of all that, I have to write a blog too! It's so much work! Pity me! I can be way more on top of this during the week. Not to mention this weekend had pretty stupid things to do.

Day Sixteen, Saturday: Discreetly Give People the Finger All Day
Today, I had to work for eight hours and deal with a four hour non-stop onslaught of crazy Canadians shopping in my country illegally and stupid Americans bitching about how busy it was. Hi, today is SATURDAY and we're ALWAYS busy on Saturday and if you're going to bitch about it GO HOME. We don't need your business.

I discreetly gave a couple of particularly annoying and rude guests the finger, but generally it was entirely too busy to stay on top of this. I have a very specific routine of things I say and do at work, and if I try to add in something like giving people the finger, I'll start asking them how they are again instead of telling them about our survey. Or actually saying "fuck you" to their faces. And then I'll get written up.

We had a party Saturday night, and I definitely gave some people the finger quite indiscreetly. They deserved it.

All in all, I really only like giving the people the finger while driving. I hate people who drive poorly.


Day Seventeen, Sunday: Eat Nothing But Asparagus All Day
Here are the reasons why I did not complete the instructions for this day, in a convenient numbered list:
1. I didn't prepare for this day. I would have had to buy a mass quantity of asparagus on Saturday and cooked it in advance for breakfast, because between the party and having to work at eight in the morning, I was in no position to be using an oven or anything else hot. Instead, I ate a granola bar while putting my hair in a pony tail and tossing a creamer-filled condom out of my car.*

2. Asparagus is expensive. If you're going to make me eat only one thing all day, please make it a less expensive food. I'm in college. I need that money for beer.

3. The point of eating the asparagus all day was to see how noxious your pee could get. I understand how interesting this experiment could be, and to see for how many days AFTER the day your pee STILL smells like sulfurous toxic waste. However, I think this could have been made into a way better social experiment. If I wrote the book, I would have people eat something like white rice all day long. White rice or maybe even mush, or maybe even nothing at all. I would have them do this so they could begin to understand what it's like to not have all the luxuries of a first world country, if only for a one day period. It's not enough, but it would get people thinking more than asparagus. It would make people more ready to change their lives, by putting them in someone else's shoes. The moral of the story is that if you're going to make people do something retarded like eat one food all day, make it count!

4. Karen was planning to come over and cook me food. Why would I turn down free, delicious food?

5. I love asparagus. Let me make this clear to you. I LOVE ASPARAGUS. I don't need a reason to hate it. Ever.

Day Eighteen, Monday: Kill Something
Here is thing: I am a girl. I know that some girls (like Anailuj, who has massive steel balls) are capable of killing things, but I am not one of them. Instead I squeal in terror and run for someone else to do the dirty deed. I am terrified of bugs and spiders of all kind, but I absolutely will NOT kill them.

This is why. I have this irrational fear that all bugs have super-mutant strength and can sense my fear of them. If they know that I'm coming at them with a paper towel, rolled up newspaper, or even my shoe, they will fight back. And win. They will overpower my genius device meant to crush them and rise up out of the paper towel, becoming a superbug that wants nothing but to eat me. They will grow fangs and claws and get big and hairy and then I will be really, really scared.

So when I see a bug, I'm convinced that it's going to eat me. And that is why I am afraid. Then I run. I cannot kill bugs.

As I was driving merrily in my car through Pembroke today, a Really Big Bug was coming at me from outside. It was ready to attack. I could sense its anger at me for invading the air space. My fear was palpable. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Then I hit the Really Big Bug with my car. It splattered into my windshield at 60 mph. TAKE THAT INSECT WORLD! I SHOWED YOU!

Sorry for the length of this post. It is three days' worth, after all.



*Creamer-filled condom story: During the party on Saturday night, John and Anailuj disappeared for an extended period of time. I was really sad about this because I was playing Gogol Bordello in the basement and I really wanted Anailuj to be there. Later that night, I had to go out to my car to get a straw so John could drink Gatorade and not die. My car was not in the driveway where I left it, and was halfway down the street. I didn't really care about this at the time, but when I went out in the morning I found a condom on my dashboard. It was kind of gross but I could tell there was not real semen in it, so I took it out and threw it on the street (I was in a hurry - I would never do this if I weren't running late for work on three hours of sleep).

When I got back from work in the afternoon, I found out that John and Anailuj STOLE my car the night before. They went to Wal-Mart and stole a condom out of an open box. Then they went to Tim Hortons and asked for creamers. They put some creamer in the condom and the condom on the dash and giggled all the way home.

Buncha hoodlums.

Day Sixteen: Discreetly Give the Finger to People All Day (Anailuj)

Um, this is something I'm in the habit of doing anyway. People usually don't notice. I guess they just think I have an itchy face and the need to scratch it with my middle finger. It's a weird thing to do, but it gets me through the day. I also tend to do it in a far less discreet way, but only when provoked.

Day Fifteen: Be Gay for a Day! (Anailuj)

The book has an elaborate schedule of things to during the day to gradually work your way up to full-blown (If I were a guy, that pun would definitely be intended) homosexuality. I didn't have time for that.
And here's the thing: I hate girls. I mean yeah, I'm really fond of a few of them, but I didn't grow to like them over night. They proved that they aren't catty, sneaky, lying, back-stabbing bitches, and there aren't a lot of them, but I really love the ones I do have.

Here's the other thing: I am in no way opposed to appreciating female beauty. Most of the time it's in jealousy, like "Damn, I wish I had her ass," or "Maybe if I get a better bra I can have cleavage like that too." But all in all, I'm really satisfied with my body. So, on occasion, my inner lesbian rears her sexy head and delivers a wink in the direction of another female. According to Kinsey (who's research was at best debatable, but I'm trying to make a point here and I think he's right on at least this one thing), everyone's sexuality rests comewhere on a scale of 0 to 6, 0 being completely straight and 6 being totally gay. But no one is really a 0.0 or a 6.0. To put it another way, we all swing that way, just a little.

So for gay day, I contemplatd the females I might consider moving up on the scale for, and Kat Von D ranks #1, no question. She's not too skinny, I love her hair, and I'm really into the whole pin-up girl thing. Runners-up included Gwen Stefani for her kick-ass body, Bif Naked (that is what hardxcore straightxedge raw-food veganism can do for you, and Betty Page (look at all those shoes!) except for the being dead and all.

Women I would NOT consider, even with a very open mind: Angelina Jolie. I think she looks mean and her lips are rectangular. Pamela Anderson, because I prefer flesh over plastic. Megan Fox, because even the people from Transformers findsher endlessly annoying, and also because she's running the whole I'M BISEXUAL LOOK AT ME thing into the ground.

End.

Day Fourteen: Day of Compliments (Anailuj)

All I learned today is that John will not get out of bed faster to play with us if when I go into his room to wake him up (it was after 11am, that is NOT too early to wake someone up) I deliver all sorts of compliments.
Compliments are great, but people can usually tell when you're bullshitting them. If you need to get somewhere with someone, I think it's best to focus on something you actually do like about them, even if it's something miniscule, and work with that, rather than making something up just to latter them.

But I really meant it when I said John was great at hiding from me under the covers and telling me to go away.

Day Fifteen: Be Gay for a Day (Yellenahs)

It's late and I don't feel like writing so this might not be as ... whatever you think it normally is. I go for witty but I'm not sure I always hit the mark so, this might be even worse.

Today was be gay for a day. The book gave some terrible ideas for things to do to be gay, but they were so terrible that I didn't even want to do them. I changed my Facebook status to "Interested in: Women." I also became a fan of UB's LGBTA.

I didn't delete these things from my newsfeed as I usually do, and I hoped that they would come up on people's homepages. I don't think it worked though because no one seemed to care. Or maybe people are just very accepting of my new way of life.

Who knows. John also decided to take a screenshot of my new status before I change it back, and he posted that on my wall. This is slightly more noticeable than just me changing my status. I also blew some kisses to Melisa and winked at her when we went to go see a concert together tonight. That was slightly lesbo, but we also do that all the time.

I'm sure there are other things I could have done to be gay, but I find that the people I know who are gay aren't really different from the rest of us, so why should I be any different? I know a couple of girls who are gay or at least bisexual, and they're not flamboyant or anything. So why does it matter? Maybe I could have noticed girls' tits some more, but I do that regularly too.

Oh God, maybe I AM gay!!!!!!!!

Day Fourteen: Day of Compliments (Yellenahs)

Ellen, I am deeply sorry for not posting this yesterday. I didn't mean to ruin your procrastination routine. After this I will be doing much better updating daily. Especially since Brian thinks we can't make it to day 25.

Yesterday was the day of compliments. We were to compliment everyone to see if it actually did get us anywhere.

It didn't.

I should have complimented more guests at work. Maybe then they would have opened more RedCards and I'd have more free gum. Instead one of my guests complimented me. He told me that I had THE most beautiful eyes ever, and he's not a creeper because he's married and he was JUST telling his wife about how beautiful my eyes are and how do I do that, is it two different colors or just one?

I told him it was magic. However, the complimenting did get him somewhere yesterday. I was so flattered that I changed the price of his digital camera from like $104 to $34.98. See what happens when you come through my line and tell me I'm beautiful? HUGEEEEEE discounts, Rochester, HUGEEEEEEEEE-JAH.

Then at the end of my shift I needed some Starbucks in order to help me stay up all night. Instead of complimenting the Starbucks team member (Drew) I told him how much he sucked and then told the LOD that they should get rid of him. Then I told Drew how much I hate him. He threw a nickle at me and then I didn't get my change. The moral of this story: If I had complimented Drew, I might be one nickle richer today.

When I got home, I wanted John to clean the kitchen because it's not his birthday anymore. He refused and tried to make me smell his feet. So I told him that I hated him repeatedly while screaming bloody murder. This also did not get my anywhere, as he did not clean the kitchen.

Basically, I'm bad at complimenting people and this whole day backfired in my face.

Day Thirteen: Write a Letter to a Mass Murderer (Anailuj)

Sorry we've totally been slacking. It's the most midtermiest time of the year. Also, John's birthday! Happy birthday, Booger!
I picked David Berkowitz, a.k.a. Son of Sam, for my mass murderer. He shot a bunch of girls in the New York City in the 70s because "a demon possessing his neighbor's dog told him to." He also wrote a couple creepy letters to the police that reveal some pretty extreme schizophrenia. You'll definitely wanna read those. Creepy.
These days David spends his time serving six life sentances at Sullivan Correctional Facility in Fallsburg, NY, and being a born-again Christian. I might sound crazy myself, but I think this guy may have actually gotten better (may have). He has a website that's maintained for him by a church group because he's not allowed to have access to a computer. He posts a journal in it that's full of totally coherent and sane things, and is totally into Jesus, which I think is nice. I know you're probably doubting that a guy who killed six people an wounded seven could have changed but you'll have to isit his website. He's a really interesting individual, in a lot of ways. So here's what I would say to him.

Dear Mr. Berkowitz,
How are things? I've taken a look at your journal, and all things considered, you seem pretty happy. I think if there's any way to redeem yourself for your past, you're probably doing it. It seems like youv'e givn a lot of people hope and a new outlook on things. I also think it's really cool that when you write your memoir the proceeds will go to the NYS Crime Victims Board, and that you're working to stop the sale of crime memoribilia. Things like that could seriously cut down on the amount of attention people receive for committing crimes, and you probably know better than anybody else that that attention is a major motivating factor.

Now to wax philosophic. They call you a born-again Christian. As a Christian, you must believe that if you truly repent for your sins, God will forgive you and you'll be redeemed. But do you? You've said you think you don't want a chance at parole an that you think you deserve to spend your life in prison. But what about the after-life? Do you believe that when you die, you'll be rewarded with eternal paradise, that repenting has saved you from an eternity in hell? What about the girls you killed? Do you think they could ever forgive you? Do you think you'll see them after death and get a chance to apologize?
My religious beliefs are still sort of up in the air. But your situation is about as unique as it could get, and it makes me evaluate things.
Thanks for all the thoughts,
[insert code name here]

Day Thirteen: Write a Letter to a Mass Murderer (Yellenahs)

Here is what happened. Yellenahs almost died on Sunday, and Anailuj spent the majority of the day making sure this didn't happen. And then Anailuj had her only midterm ever (because she's an English major) this week, so she didn't want to blog.

And now we are a little late. But apparently Anailuj has still been doing the instructions, but not blogging. I, however, have not been following the instructions because I thought we were waiting until today to continue. There was a bit of miscommunication on that point. She'll probably have to repeat them. So she can blog properly, of course!

I'm writing my letter to Peter Sutcliffe, better known as the Yorkshire Ripper. He killed 13 women. Pretty violently. He now resides in a mental hospital in Britain. Some laws might change and he might be out in 2011. That's a little scary. I'm glad I'm not a British whore.


Dear Peter,

How's it going? Happy 25th anniversary at Broadmoor! It's been awhile, huh? You must be making a lot of friends there. By a lot, I mean the others within your head. Sorry, I shouldn't make jokes about your schizophrenia. I heard that you've had a rough time there at Broadmoor. The other prisoners aren't very nice to you? I hope you're handling it all right.

Do you still get the urge? You know, the urge. I hope not. I hope that you're getting better. Especially since you might get to be free in two years! We wouldn't want you to do anything bad out here on the streets.

Does Broadmoor have ghosts? It's a really old facility. I bet it has ghosts. I bet it's super creepy. That would be so cool. Old mental asylums are the coolest. Probably not if you have to live there, though. But you probably get to see a lot of ghosts! Maybe even the ghost of Jack the Ripper. He's pretty famous. And you guys were into pretty similar things, you know, killing British whores. You even have similar nicknames.

Were you friends with June Gibbons when she was there? Well, you might have wanted to tear her to shreds for being female. But she seems like a cool chick. And the sister, too. Did they teach you their language?

Sorry about all the questions. The life of the criminally insane is so fascinating.

Good luck with the rest of your stay there!
Sincerely,
Yellenahs

Day Twelve: What's Your Type? (Yellenahs)

This blog is a day late because yesterday I was busy going straight from classes to work to party, and didn't have a moment in between to ponder my type.

I was with a Mr. Nice Guy once, but he was just so nice and not very fun so I got bored after a couple of months. After this I began my string of Sleazeballs, which isn't very fun either. That's been my type by default lately but it's not something I'd like to keep up with. I don't need Loaded because I prefer to pay my own bills, and I don't really need too many nice things. I'd break them anyway. Beefcake would be more into himself than me, and I definitely need some ATTN.

This is a toss-up between Married With Kids and Handsome Prince. Married With Kids obviously knows how to handle commitment (maybe not, due to uh me), and if he's a good dad then he is so sexy. There is nothing sexier than a good dad. Keep that in mind, boys. I would feel pretty bad breaking up a marriage and forcing the kids into weekend homes and such though. Handsome Prince is probably pretty cool, and has probably been taught how to treat women right. I hope. He's also handsome. Obviously. I would feel as though my future were secure, and that's important. I bet I'd also get to travel the world with him, which is also important. That'd be so fun!

Handsome Prince is the winner!!

Day Twelve: What's Your Type? (Anailuj)

Today the book gave me an itty bitty checklist of "types" of guys and I'm supposed to check one as a reminder at drunken parties. I see two flaws with this:
1. I don't drink, so I'm not likely to somehow forget what I like.
2. This is a very limited checklist. It only offers Beefcake, Mr. Nice Guy, Loaded, Married with Kids, Sleazeball, and Handsome Prince.

Thanks, book that was clearly written by men (the choices for women were mostly related to hair color and lesbians). I happen to dislike all of these choices. You can probably come to pretty accurate conclusions about why I don't like Beefcake, Married, and Sleazeball. It's aslo safe to assume that I'm not after Loaded because I'm not a golddigger.
"But why, Anailuj," you want to know, "Don't you like Mr. Nice Guy or Handsome Prince???"
I'll tell you.
Mr. Nice Guy is delightful, really. But the honest truth is he's just too nice. He's nicer than me, for sure. And that would make me feel like a mean nasty person if I was with someone who was perfect all the time. Argue with me. Question my ideas. Match wits with me. I don't like being wrong, but I don't want to be right just by default.
You can still tell me I look ravishing all the time.

As for the Handsome Prince, it's not that he doesn't exist, it's just that he's actually a prince. His name is William, and when his grandma (God Save Elizabeth Windsor) dies he's going to be the king of England.

I don't think I really have one particular "type." My taste in boys is about as eclectic as my taste in music. I guess I'd just say that we have to be able to have mind-blowing... conversation. He has to be able to make me laugh so hard my face hurts and I maybe pee a little. No hard drugs. I don't mind alcohol or a little pot, but anything else is pushing it. And don't lie to me. I'd rather have the difficult-to-stomach truth than an easy-to-swallow lie. He has to kill icky bugs for me, except the ones that are too big to kill. He has to put those ones outside, but far away from the house.

It would be nice if he also worshipped the ground I walked on, but I realize that's something I have to earn by being a reciprocally fantastic girlfriend.

Day Eleven: Introduce Yourself to Someone (Yellenahs)

Here's the thing. Anailuj has huge balls and I do not.

There, I said it.

I don't like talking to new people. I like talking to people once I know them. But meeting them is a huge feat of nature for me. I'm bad at it. And I didn't see the one person that I really need to introduce myself to today.

So I talked to this girl in one of my classes. I didn't "introduce myself" per se, as I did not give her my name. But we did talk! And we talked last week. So she might learn my name sometime soon. And it will be almost like I introduced myself today.

Then I went to work, and I started training in Starbucks today. I introduced myself to the woman who trained me. I knew her already! I knew her but did not talk to her! And now I have introduced myself to her. My task has been completed.

Day Eleven: Introduce Yourself to Someone You Know But Never Talk To (Anailuj)

At the school I go to, there is this student-run magazine called Generation. It's fantastically funny and offensive and smart and it brightens my day every time I read it.
Except now Generation is no more, because the powers that be at my school decided to get pissy with it for reasons I won't get into and suspended its charter and bylaws. They did all of this without a passing "Yo" to the editor-in-chief, Andrew.
Andrew happens to be a personal desire of mine, and every other female who read Generation and actually paid attention to who wrote what they were reading. Andrew's literary voice is (I tried a lot of adjectives in place of this word and there is no other that fits him so well) absolutely sextravagant (TM Anailuj 2009). He gives the impression of a wise-guy, a sex-fiend, a comedian, an independent voyager of the open road. If he ever reads this, I'm pretty sure it will make HIS day to know that I think of him as the Kerouac of our immodestly large university (but he'll also think I'm a creepy stalker who spends way too much time contemplating his genius. But for the record I am definitely not the only girl who feels this way about him). A sixth-year senior, he seems to have no idea what to do with his life, although in my humble opinion he could easily become the next Dave Barry. Who?

Anyway, I have a class with Andrew this semester. And today I decided to actually say something to him. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Hey. Andrew.
Andrew: [turning to me, one eyebrow raised] Yes?
Me: Is Generation ever coming back ?
Andrew: Uhhhh...I don't know. They don't tell me things. I'm not really in a position to say...[continues on with vague comments, making more eye-contact with his computer screen than with me.]
Me: That sucks.

It was a lot less glorious than I'd envisioned. I think my being a stranger and all sort of caught him off guard. But I feel way cooler about myself now that I've demystified him. This guy is sort of as much of a celebrity as you can get on a college campus with 25,000 undergraduates. And he was sort of shy.
It was adorable.

Day Ten: Meet Jonas Day! (Yellenahs)

Hi Jonas, my name is Shanelle. How are you? Oh, not so good. Oh yes I did hear you had to pay 1000 crowns because you kissed that woman. That's too bad. It was probably because she was Canadian. I guess it really did change your life, though!

Nice to meet you.

Day Ten: Meet Jonas Day! (Anailuj)

Today the book introduced us to a fine young Swede named Jonas Jansson (I'm pretty sure it's pronounced "Yonas Yansson"). The writers apparently ran into him at a mall and asked him to be the guinea pig for their book. He said yes, and in his first week of Changing His Life, he broke up with his girlfriend and got himself arrested.
You can read about him at http://www.thiswebsitewillchangeyourlife.com/.
You can also apply to marry him.

Note: We have the first (2003) edition of the book. It's now called This Diary Will Change Your Life and has been issued every year since with new tasks by the good people at Benrik.

Day Nine: Do Something Before Breakfast (Anailuj)

Yellenahs and I had originally planned for both of us to call John on this day at around 6am and express our surprise that he wasn't up yet. But we can't hide our excitement about anything from John for very long, and we told him. So of course he turned his phone off.
Often we are stupid.
Today I had to get up around 5:30 am to babysit my cousins. (Babysitting: the one job the government will never try to tax me for.) So I was up and definitely doing a lot of things before breakfast, but today I decided to do something special. So I walked out of my house and did twenty jumping jacks in my driveway, in the dark.
Then I wrote a poem about it and texted it to John. It went a little something like this:
Dearest John,
In morning dark,
There does not sing
A single lark.
Yet twenty jumping jacks I did;
From not a single car I hid.
Now making chai tea in a cup,
I'm wondering:
Why aren't you up?

He didn't get it until he turned his phone back on, but I like to think that it was an awesome way for him to start his day.

Plus, doing jumping jacks in the cold definitely woke me up. I'll probably do that every time I have to babysit in the morning.

And I would count that as a change in my life.

Day Nine: Do Something Before Breakfast (Yellenahs)

I do a lot of things before breakfast. I have a pretty strict routine that doesn't really allow for anything extra, unless I get up earlier. Which I couldn't do because I had to stay up past midnight so I could play Farmville (luckily none of my crops wilted).

This morning I showered, put in my eyeballs, put on my face, and made coffee all before breakfast. I tried to call John and express surprise that he was not yet awake, but he prepared for this by turning off his phone. I briefly considered waking him up physically, but I decided that I actually wanted to live to eat my breakfast.

So I sat down on my bed with my bowl of Wegman's brand honey nut oat things and turned on the TV to discover what is on at this hour (8:30 am). The answer is JACK SHIT. The TV was already on the History Channel, as I was watching a show entitled "The History of Sex" last night while I waited for midnight to roll around. This morning's programming wasn't nearly as interesting, so I flipped it to "My Super Sweet 16."

WHICH IS A TERRIBLE SHOW.

The girl on it wasn't even turning 16 - she was turning 21. And she was an ungrateful, rude snob who got a Lambo for her birthday that she probably can't drive and definitely doesn't appreciate. Then she had two birthday parties. TWO. One in Vegas and one in Miami. And she wore the same dress to both of them. HOW CLASSY IS THAT?!

She was who I hated in high school, but with even more money.

Day Eight: Addiction-Free Day (Anailuj)

I was not a happy camper today.
As far as addicitons go, I have few. I don't usually use the term "straight-edge" because of negative stereotypes about the straight-edge community (the large majority of which are swell folks who won't try to push any straight-edge agendas on you, I promise) that I don't necessarily want projected on myself. However, I've never touched alcohol or drugs and I don't plan to. I don't smoke. I don't even drink coffee.

But sweet Jesus, do I love my tea.

I have a habit of falling dead asleep during my classes, and one of the only things that can keep me awake is a masive container of iced chai, which I make myself in the morning with two tea bags for extra strength, approximately 1lb of sugar, milk, and whipped cream if I'm feeling spunky.

Today I was not allowed to have my chai. Today was a bad day. I could use a cup right now. Did you know that a professor can write nothing but positive comments on your first paper ofthe semester, comments about how awesome you are at analyzing that God-awful Herman Melville book and how your interpretations are right on, and still give you a C+? DID YOU???? A C+????
I WANT AN A AND I WILL KILL OR DIE FOR IT.

On top of that, I gave up Facebook and FarmVille too, like Yellenahs. It wasn't that bad except I'm pretty sure I have aloe vera planted, and if I do, it definitely wilted.

And if it did, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

Conclusions: Tea is good for me and I'm going to have a cup (decaf) right now.
And it is sort of nice to take a break from massive internet networking and constantly worrying about my vegatables.

PS I have it on good authority that as of 5am this morning, my out of order sign was still on the bathroom door.

Day Eight: Addiction Free Day (Yellenahs)

Today, my body is my temple. I cut addictions and let myself become pure.

Except for that I drank a cup of coffee before I realized it was addiction free day. But I have health reasons! If I don't drink a cup of coffee, I usually get a terrible headache. And I don't want that. I didn't have any more coffee after that cup. There was a fairly good chance that I would have had another cup if it weren't addiction free day.

Other than the coffee, today I gave up Facebook. I'm even more addicted to Facebook than I am to coffee. By default, I am also gave up Farmville. Which I am not pleased about. If my grapes wilt due to this book, I will never forgive it. Okay, I'll probably forgive it tomorrow. But only enough to perform tomorrow's duty.

I don't think I have any other addictions. I only drink on the weekends (and I can stop anytime!!!!), I don't smoke, I don't do drugs. I'm not even addicted to painkillers.

Once I accidentally clicked on my Facebook button. It's just so conveniently placed, and it's such a habit to click there first when I open up an internet window. It was a scary moment in which I immediately started yelling "shit shit shit!" at my computer and waving my hands in front of the screen until I could think clearly enough to click on the X. It was a minor relapse, the moment passed, and then I felt good about staying away from my addiction once again.

As soon as 12:01 hits, though...

Day Seven: Masturbate at 13:56 (Yellenahs)

Refer to Anailuj's post about the assignment today. I happened to be busy baking cookies with my grandmother at this time, so I was in no position to do such a thing. And even if I wanted to, I would not tell you about such an experience in my blog.

Sorry about the lameness of today.

Day Seven: Masturbate at 13:56

The book provided some material to help us out with this one. There was a section for each sex. For girls, it was a big elaborate passage about some woman alone in the mountains being saved by a dark handsome stranger. But it didn't do it for me, mostly because I would not allow a stranger to ravish me in the snowy mountains without even buyng me dinner first. For guys it just said "Two blondes. Doing it. Together." That didn't do anything for me either. Mostly because I don't like blondes.
Anyway, I have a rule. Either I get someone to do that for me, or it doesn't get done at all. Which may explain my occasional violent urges to push things down other things. Like John, down the stairs. *



*Disclaimer: John is fully aware of my urges to push things down other things and is careful to keep away from the top of the stairs in my presence.

Day Six: Write the Line of Your Novel (Anailuj)

I regretted having to shoot Katie in the face, but once a person has been bitten you have to stop thinking of them as a person, start thinking of them as a zombie, and load up your shot gun.


The first line in an epic tale of love, survival, big guns, and a girl who kills zombies.

Day Six: Write the First Line of Your Novel (Yellenahs)

It had only been two days, Edda realized, as she held the pendant up to the light.

Day Five: Mass Social Experiment (Anailuj)

Today we had to make an out of order sign, stick it on something, and see if it caused a breakdown of our social structure as we know it.
So I ripped out a piece of notebook paper, scrawled "Out of order" on it in sharpie, and taped it to a vending machine. But that wasn't that exciting. So I taped it to a bathroom door. Not a stall door, the door to the entrance of the whole bathroom.

See, there it is, on my very low resolution camera. I picked a place that was pretty high traffic, but doesn't have a lot of seats so there was no one sitting around to observe me causing trouble. Except some girl who was sitting right across from me and was not observant enough to notice me doing any of this. Then she got on her phone and was being obnoxious.

The results were pretty predictable: every now and then some girl who had to pee or fix her hair would walk up to the door, hesitate, and walk away. Once two girls walked by and one pointed to it. Not that exciting. no one was even curious enough to take a peak to see what kind of disaster
could put a WHOLE bathroom out of order.

Conclusion: People obey signs, and watching them do it is really not that thrilling. I would have done the same thing. This was only life-changing in that it made me want to try it on a larger scale. Next time I'll put an out of order sign on an airplane. Or a pilot.

Day Five: Mass Social Experiment (Yellenahs)

Today, the book provided us with a circular red "Out of Order" sign and instructed us to place it on any item of public infrastructure we may encounter throughout the day. I didn't want to destroy the book by cutting it out, so I just wrote "Out of Order" on a piece of notebook paper. Not quite as harsh as the book's, but it gets the idea across.

Now, I'm basically a huge wimp when it comes to things like this. I would have liked to place my sign on something really cool that would really freak people out, but I didn't have the nerve. So I placed it over the buttons of an elevator in one of the academic buildings on campus. And then I ran like hell. Okay, I walked away sort of fast. But I was sweating in fear!

Since I had to go to work, I didn't even get to watch what people did. Instead I am going to provide you with a fictional conversation that may have occurred between two freshmen Long Island girls when faced with the sign:
Girl wearing leggings: "Uhhh the elevator is broken?" (tilts head)
Girl wearing Uggs: "Whattt?" (whine)
Leggings: "How does an elevator even break?"
Uggs: "Uhhh I dunno? Should we try it anyway?"
Leggings: "I don't think so...we could DIE in there!"
Uggs: "But there are soooooooooo many stairs!"
Leggings: "I know, right! The third floor is soooo far away!"
Uggs: "Let's go to Starbucks instead."

I'm pretty sure this is indicative of mass social breakdown. Toward the end of the year when I'm less of a wimp, I also plan to do this more often. For the funs.

Day Four: Work Out Your Globetrotting Plans (Yellenahs)

I can't wait to travel the world. I want to see everything.

The world map that we found on the interwebz hurt my eyes with all of its pixels. So instead of coloring in a map of the world with countries I have been to/want to go to, I am including this nifty list.

Been there, done that:

• The United States. Obviously, because I live here.
• Canada. Obviously, because the drinking age is lower there.
  
• Japan. I took a P2P trip to this fascinating country a few years back. I drank water with "sweat" in the title and ate things like Pocky.
• The Bahamas. Disney Cruise, ftw!!

Intend to go there this year: None this year, unless I study abroad in Italy. But, alas, I am only a poor college student for now.

Intend to go there sometime before I die: I'm just gonna go ahead and say the whole world. Honestly, I don't think I can say there's a place I wouldn't like to go sometime. Except maybe Antarctica. There's not much there. Everywhere else, though, I know there's some beauty that I need to witness. Europe is first, and I plan to visit as many cathedrals as I possibly can.

I'm also going to do the United States, because I've been to more states than countries and have more definite goals with them. For this one I have a map:


Green: Been there, done that
Blue: Intend to go there this year
Purple: Intend to go there in the next 5-10 years
Yellow: Intend to go there sometime before I die
Red: Happy never to set foot there in my whole life

I may want to spend some time in California this summer. If not, then I intend to take a mass cross-country road trip. In which case, some of those purples would be blue. Said road trip may also take me through some of the reds. It's not that I don't want to go to those places, I just don't care about them that much.

Day Four: Work out Your Globetrotting Plans for the Rest of Your Time on Earth (Anailuj)

Today we got to color in maps. It was fun pretending to be in 5th grade again.

KEY (in 5th grade we lost points if we forgot to provide one of these):

green- been there, done that

yellow- plan to go there before I die

purple- plan to go there sometime within the next 5-10 years

blue- intend to go there this year (There's nowhere I'm planning on going to this year that I haven't already been to, so no blue for me :P)

red- happy to never set foot there in my whole life

I live on the east coast, so the occasional vacation/class trip has taken me to most of those states. I'd like to see California, the Four Corners, Louisiana (I'm a big fan of Anne Rice southern spookiness), and Montana for sight-seeing.

Michigan because my good friend Esteban lives there and I'd like to visit him sometime.

Hawaii and Alaska might be nice places to honeymoon, hint hint to my many potential fiancees.

The rest of the yellows I just sort of wouldn't mind seeing: AZ for the grand canyon, TX for the intolerant Republicans, NV for the Burning Man Festival .

The red states. Apparently I have a thing against Tornado Alley and the deep south. I guess it's mostly due to me not wanting to be blown away or have to eat grits.

The white states are the ones I just don't care about. I mean, Minnesota? The only good thing about it is hearing how the locals say the name of their state with that cute accent. But you'll get essentially the same accent, universal healthcare, and duty-free liquer from Canadians, so you might as well just go there instead.

Here's a really stretched version of the world. I've only been to the U.S., the Bahamas, and Canada. I was supposed to go to Ecuador this summer for a student volunteer program, but it fell through, so getting there is on the top of my list. Ecuador also owns the Galopagos Islands too. Sea turtles! Penguins! Darwin!

Mexico to see the Aztec ruins. Russia because the world seems to be telling me to go to Russia lately.

Madagascar because of that movie. Lemurs are cute.

Somalia because it just sucks so bad there. National Geographic and K'naan make me want to take the risk of getting my head blown off in hopes that I might be able to help out just a little bit. The poverty I saw during just one day in the Bahamas was enough to make me want to do something for people.

India for the architecture and the mango lassi.

Certain places in the middle east because me going there would mean they've reached some semblance of peace.

Austrailia to visit my family who moved there a couple years ago.

Not France. I took French for five years. I've about had my fill.

All the whites are places I could certainly get behind, I just don't have any strong feelings about them right now.

Conclusions: I need to get places. Also, you should listen to K'naan.

Day Three: Throw Away Something You Like (Anailuj)

I am a packrat. I develop emotional attachments to garbage, which I hoard, sort of like Smaug the dragon. Like Smaug, I'm also very unwilling to part with it. But I finally made the decision to get rid of some crap that's doing little more than take up space in my room. Even though I have some fondness for these items, I figured I'd feel better throwing them away. I'm changing my life here, best to get rid of some of the stuff lying around from my past:

1 green gift box shaped like a chinese take-out box. Super cute but has writing on it and can never be re-used.
1 key to my old car- Why didn't I give this to the dealer when I traded it in?
1 Lasertron "official membership card." Codename: Skwissgaar.
1 burnt-out red light bulb, awesome birthday gift from four years ago
1 thank-you card from a parent at my work. These are hard to get rid of because they usually say stuff about how great I am and how much the kid loves me.
1 Senior Prom place setting. I got the vegetarian dinner. I went with someone I'm no longer dating.
1 Frightworld ticket from last year. I went with someone I'm no longer friends with.

All in the trash can, crammed down there with coffee grounds and used tissues. Brief moment of regret! What if I want to remember these things when I'm old?!

Conclusions: If you want to start fresh you have to get rid of what's stale. If these things are worth remembering, I'll remember them alright. And in the meantime, my room is a tiny bit less cluttered.

Day Three: Throw Away Something You Like (Yellenahs)

I refuse to throw things away. Ever. I'm almost positive that I'm an even bigger hoarder than Anailuj. And Smaug.

I own:
Jeans with holes in the crotch (but they're my favorites!)
Science notebooks from the 7th grade (what if I need to refer back to them someday?)
Every single Christmas and birthday card I've ever received from anyone (I'll want to remember those days when I'm older!)

So this is a difficult task for me. I have this irrational belief that someday I will miss these things if they're gone. This is true for certain things, but not necessarily for the three tubes of old mascara I found while searching for something to throw away.

BUT I'M KEEPING THOSE. THEY ARE MINE AND YOU CANNOT TAKE THEM AWAY.

As this is a life-changing activity, I wanted the something to be important enough to be missed, but not so much that I will need it in the near future and not have it. I considered throwing away John, but the rent is due. And he may not appreciate such a thing.

In the end, I threw away this pink wood carving of my name. We got it at a flea market God knows how many years ago. I used to display it proudly on a shelf in my room. I'm now wayyyyy too classy for such a thing.



Now that I remember I ever had it, this will surely be missed.

P.S. Brian just stated that he doesn't like Seinfeld. I am shocked and awed by such blasphemy. We're watching it anyway.

Day Two: The Love of Your Life (Anailuj)

Anailuj has also decided to switch to first person because third person is making her feel a little schizophrenic. I gazed wonderingly at strangers all day.

Sports Fan: Sorry, but I can tell from the way that you've incorporated the logos of three different teams into your outfit today that all you do is watch ESPN. I need some ATTN, too.

Various Mellow-Looking Guys: You know this guy. He's a nice, decent guy. This is the guy you want to marry, but not really date. This is in no way his fault. It is yours because you're masochistic and immature, and like to date the wrong boys. You unfairly want him to just sort of remain available until you're finished running around with Tight Pants Guy.

Tight Pants Guy: TPG, I respect the boldness it must take for a guy to get up in the morning, look in the mirror, and think "Today I want to cram my junk into a tiny denim straitjacket." TPG is actually a genius. He knows that his skinny jeans will serve him dual purposes: 1) To attract ladies who love a man wearing jeans slim enough that they could borrow them, and 2) to kill all his sperm so that he does not impregnate any of those ladies.

Matt: Matt lives down the street from me. Matt has promised to go to the moon, write my name on it large enough for me to see it from Earth, and find me a massive moon diamond. If I actually believed that could happen, I would be carrying Matt's babies right now.

Yellenahs' Housemates: It's important that I talk about them because they're an increasingly important part of my life...
B-Dolla: Great taste in music, which is a Big Deal to me. However, I often find him difficult to locate, which could be problematic.
Aaron: Even though he's a harmless day-walker, he carries the ginger gene. Not willing to take that risk.
John: We would have lots of sarcastic babies with poor eyesight and braces, but they would make up for it by being incredible swimmers. If lucky, they would combine my English skillz and his Math skillz and get perfect SAT scores.

Soul Mate?: I was looking super cute in my red heart-shaped sunglasses. He was wearing large, square, bright orange sunglasses. For a moment we were alone in the airlock of the building as I was exiting and he was entering, and time stood still as our eyes locked and I knew that Orange Sunglasses might be my soul mate. But then time abruptly resumed its pace, and I, unable to react in time, lost Orange Sunglasses forever.

Conclusions: I believe that if Orange Sunglasses really is my soul mate, I'll find him again. I kind of dropped the ball on the "act in consequence" part of this task, but it's ok because I believe we'll be reunited if it's for realzies. Also, I'm a little superficial.