Tuesday, November 10, 2009


Okay, so some of you heard my rant about PETA last week, but if you missed it, here it goes.

So it started last week, GreenPeace was on campus trying to get money and support for whatever it is GreenPeace does these days. Needless to say, I avoided them more than I avoided that kid in my class who had Swine Flu (okay, it may not have been Swine Flu, but seriously. It was like,"Excuse me kid, you left your lung back there."). It's not that I hate the environment. It's just that Greenpeace is a tad too militant for my liking. They make rather questionable claims and do things that are occasionally not actually eco-friendly. So being a proponent of "practice what you preach," I tend to shy away from supporting them. You may be asking what PETA has to do with Greenpeace; well, there is a connection. As my friend and I were walking away, I was explaining why I hate groups like Greenpeace and PETA. Little did she know, she was opening a can of worms.

You see. I have a weird quirk. I do this thing, where I value ethical treatment of human beings above the ethical treatment of animals. Weird, right? PETA may support the rights of field mice, but they seem to think the objectification of women is A OKAY! For years now, PETA has run several campaigns including the Lettuce Ladies, the "Rather be naked than wear fur," and one where you could learn about animal cruelty and take a test in which a female avatar would strip down for each correct question. Forgive me for my eccentricities, but I think one can advocate for ethical treatment without place women in subordinate, sexualized position. Are women's rights really that inferior to a mink's rights? I mean seriously. We can't oppose the strangling of chicken or stripping of a seal without having some scantily clad woman traipse across an intersection or pose in a cage or wear LETTUCE?! I support ethical treatment of animals. Maybe not how PETA would like because I do eat meat. But I prefer for my meat to be free range, hormone free, and killed as humanely as possible. I would gladly sign a petition if PETA wasn't so militant and crazy and so set on setting back the women's rights movement!

In summary, here's my letter to PETA:
Dear PETA,
You may rather be naked than wear fur. But I would rather eat a lambchop than sign any of your petitions.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Men (boys?) at Trinity

So in the 3 weeks that I have been back at Trinity I have had several run ins with First Years. It's inevitable. Campus is small, there's a ton of them, and with ResLife stuff, I just kinda ended up in the same places and the same times they were there. After several of these run-ins, I noticed that I was usually annoyed. Why you ask? That's exactly what I wondered. Then it hit me. I was annoyed with them when I overheard them talking about relationships and guys. Snippets such as:
  • "I just don't know what I am going to do with this whole.... Singledom."
  • Boy: You should come what this movie with us. Girl: No. I have to go call my boyfriend. We've been dating for 2 years now. We're like, so strong after he was 14 hours away last year....
  • Girl 1: I stayed up until like 3 last night... Girl 2: ohemgee, was it cause a guy?!
Was it because I am an embittered single girl? Hardly (well I am at least going to tell myself that's not why.). It was the utter ridiculousness. That tone of optimism that the knowledgeable (slightly cynical?) me found annoying. We all get the same idea when coming to college. We will find a plethora of great, intelligent, cute boys with whom we will couple off with and skip marryly (spelling intentional) across the quad with. Then you get to Trinity and over time, things change. The reality that Trinity's dating scene begins to resemble an incestuous cesspool after a year (that gets muddier and murkier the more people you know.) slowly sinks in. So what's the deal? After talking with two close friends at lunch today, I realized it. There are 6kinds of guys at Trinity. That's right. 6 kinds. These types are probably found everywhere, but whatev. Here's what we came up with:

You know who I mean. Those amazing guys (or not even that amazing) that find a girl (THE girl?) and just start running the marathon. This guy ain't leavin' her for a while. We're talking years. Sure they may break up, but it doesn't happen in a timely manner. He is off the market for at least 12 months. Maybe longer. He might just marry her.

Cute. Ugly. Jerk. Sweetheart. This group is an amalgamation of personalities and temperaments. He may be hott or he may be a jerk, but if you know a guy that goes from one relationship to another, he's here. It's shocking. But they exist. They move around, they test water, he may be a hopeless romantic, or hopelessly pathetic. Alot of these guys will move from this category to the Lifer category when they finally find the one girl that doesn't (won't?) leave.

You know who I mean. It's great that he was drunk and you were drunk and the drunken conversation you shared lead to a drunken night together, but when the tequila haze clears, you may still think he's cute, but you know with every sober fiber of your being that he is not dateable. After the Walk of Shame (for him or you) ends, you're left with some awkward run-ins on campus, but you certainly aren't doodling his last name on your notebook. This is probably the most permeable category. Because one woman's (or multiple women) trash, errr I mean hookup, is another woman's soulmate. Fact.

Let's face it: at a place like Trinity, this is bound to happen. This group includes the painfully awkward, painfully immature, or just the awkward guys that don't fit in another category. Whether he can't talk to a girl out of nervousness or shouldn't talk to a girl out of immaturity, this category is all encompassing. I am sure you have met a few guys that are really sweet, but really sweet doesn't mean dateable. One day, they will grow up/grow confident/grow? and make a great boyfriend/fiance/husband. But that day is so not here.

These last two categories are mentioned last because they usually go unmentioned or unnoticed. But you may know one or two guys that fit in here:

Suddenly Single-
You know it's happened. You log onto Facebook and see that John and Jane broke up and while you are sad for them, that little voice in your head asks "so wait, he's single?" Usually John and Jane were a Lifer couple. The last couple you may expect to end. But when it's done, John, who is quite the catch, has landed into an empty pond with more than one fisherwoman on the prowl. It's horrible. But that's why no one talks about it. Doesn't mean it doesn't exist. We just keep quiet, comfort Jane, and evaluate when the grieving/rebound period will be over and when John can find his next marathon. You obviously.

No I don't mean guys that aren't even worth mentioning. I mean those sweet, intelligent, cute, and awesome guys that just. Don't. Date. It's not a defect. It's just how they are. For whatever reason, they remain single. They walk on a plane apart from the Hookups, Lifers, Suddenlys, Totes Awks, and Merry-Go-Rounders. They are coveted but remain oblivious (?though this fact is unproven). I mention them down here because not every girl is aware of their existence. But they exist. Like an empty house without a for-sale sign, they exist quietly. Quietly avoiding the game....

So that's it. The Trinity Caste.

Quick Explanation

Sorry I kinda dropped off the face of the earth. Second Session was lot's of fun but was alot busier just with getting ready to come back to Texas and such. Sorry I didn't keep up with my blog like I should have!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Why I love my job

I'll admit it. Youths can be annoying. Sometimes these kids seem to have blinders on and are completely unable to notice anything around them.  This job is hard. I'm tired. I work almost 24/7. It's high energy, high demand, and lots of work. But even on my crappiest days (like today), I wouldn't trade this job for anything.

1. My ladies made me a paper crane telling me how awesome I am...
2. I have a BEAUTIFUL character sketch that one of the boys from my Playwriting activity drew...
3. My girls and the boys hall they were paired with christened our CTY Olympics team "Awesome on a Boat" and made a large paper boat with people on it... It's legit.
4. I get to discuss politics with a 13 year old boy who knows more than most college students I've talked to.
5. Once a week, I circle up with my fellow RAs in the middle of a student formed circle and sing, dance, jump, scream, and laugh along to American Pie.
6. Disney Movie Appreciation is a popular activity.
7. My ladies sing along to Backstreet Boys with me...

I could go on.  Sometimes, I just want my girls to listen and process what I say.  Often times, they miss something.  But they are the ones who make me want to wake up and plan some awesome activity... Like going to the Baltimore Museum of Art... 

Monday, June 29, 2009

The Garret and finding your pole.

Seem odd? Allow me to elaborate.

My surroundings:
For some reason, there appears to be a black cloud above my name. The Senior RAs and our Residential Dean all like me, I just attract bad juju. Why? Well. First, my dorm room (or the Garret as I prefer to call it) is teensytiny (or cozy if this were a room you were trying to pawn off on someone).  So much that even Patrick, the aforementioned Residential Dean remarked "you get the sneaking suspicion that this room began its life as a mop closet.  It's MAYBE 8 x 8 (imagine standing in a central spot and reaching almost everything in your room.) Seriously guys. It's a glorified cell. Now I realize I have been spoiled at TU but this is downright cruel! To add the cherry on the sundae, guess who has 18 residents and 5 different classes to get them to? That's right. Yours truly. Now that you have a visual, allow me to tell you about the past two CRAZY days.

Kids move in. What does this mean? chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. For the math inclined, an equation: 

27 RAs + 380 "talented youths" + 600 (overbearing, domineering, I-am-right-you-are-wrong, misguided, direction ignoring, walk-in-the-road-ignoring-traffic) family members + 80 or so other adult staff members+ time - patience = CHAOS IN ITS PUREST FORM

Don't get me wrong. Parents are great. love em. But seriously. Your Mercedes is not SPECIAL. It does not get to park closer than the other cars. Unless you are handicapped, your Mercedes can chill with the rest of the "not-special-enough-for-other-parking" cars in the pre-assigned spot. I love people moving and walking around. BUT FOR THE LOVE OF LIFE, GET OUT OF THE ROAD. Seriously. I was on directions and parking duty for most of the morning/afternoon (Subway for lunch at 10 am. haha). And people seem to have a death wish. Your child is TALENTED, PROTECT THAT TALENT AND GET THE HECK OUT OF THE ROAD. Finally (and there is not enough emphasis to add to that Finally), we seemed to successfully corral parents to their auditorium and students to their halls. Next issue. What to do with 10 girls when 8 are testing? Funny you should ask. My solution? Give them hall free time to move in and bond on their own before watching She's the Man in a cramped but surprisingly comfy room (clearly, not the Garret). Summary of my hall: They are (thus far) amazing. They listen. They question. They chitchat. They shut up when they're supposed to. They are altogether adorable. Right now. This may change but I hope they only get more fun! But Sunday night was Q&A GALORE. Ridiculous but necessary questions. Questions that had been answered but they hadn't heard/listened (they're great. I didn't say they're perfect.) We managed to make it to dinner and back (fighting the zoo of limbs and the people attached to those limbs) with enough time to do a HALL BONDING EXERCISE! yay! We bonded, we itched (from the grass), we giggled at bunnies, and then off to required events! yay! (RA enthusiasm creeping into regular conversations). Finished that then off to UBER SUPER LONG meeting where my hall giggled at my use of the phrase "sketch." (They are to avoid Sketchy Dude and Sketchy Dudette and stay on campus out of Sketchville. gotta love it.)

GLORIOUS *though not nearly enough* sleep!

The poles. Oh the poles. Basically, for every class and then activity, there is an assigned pole. Easy enough, right? not. Kids form large, rowdy packs that overrun the paths and block poles and get in the way! With 18 kids, getting to the poles is an ABSOLUTE NIGHTMARE. Thus, my most used phrase "Make sure you know where your pole is! Find the right pole! Remember your class' pole". 

I could write more. But I can't. my brain is shutting down. Typos abound. I almost said 'right' instead of write. goodnight!

Friday, June 26, 2009

Nell's Nomadic Life... (kinda long...)

So I realize that the point of a blog is to write about your day to day activities, but the only way one can do that is if they have the internet... Which I didn't for like 3 weeks. So here's a brief rundown of my life in the past three weeks:

Disclaimer: I am a part of the family that I pick on. I am proud to admit that not only am I a member of it, I do alot of the same things. haha. C'est la vie.  C'est ma vie. 

Week One:
Left Smalltown, USA for a couple days to stay at my sister's house.  Basically, it was chaos. I mean, my family is literally, a traveling circus anytime we leave anywhere for any period of time.  

Recipe for Travel:
Start in the morning --> stop to get the oil changed (on a roadtrip??)--> continue to destination --> Get new phones in SA  --> Deal with hungry brother --> feed hungry brother --> Continue to destination --> arrive at like 7 pm. Ridic. 

Stayed with Katy (my sister) and her husband Brock and my niece Lily (MOST ADORABLE GIRL EVER).Went to Joel and Emily's BEAUTIFUL wedding.  Honestly, the most gorgeous and romantic wedding I have ever been too.
Family Circus returned to Smalltown USA.

Week Two:
Pack up house in Smalltown USA to move to Castroville (20 minutes outside of SA for those of you who haven't memorized the location of every small town in Texas).  Deal with movers. Family Circus (this time plus two vehicles because one parent per car and an aunt and uncle in a over loaded green truck.  If you are picturing the Clampets for Beverly Hillbillies, you are not far off) begins perilous journey to new location (finally left the old house at 5:30 for a THREE HOUR DRIVE).  Trip includes: beautiful scenery and two men at a gas station wearing TOOOO tight t's driving a white truck with a small herd of GOATS in the back. Crazy.  Same gas station where uncle picks THE SKETCHIEST, MOST UNLIT portion of the parking lot to stop at.  Nell is left sitting in a Yaris hatchback holding her computer on full alert while the rest of the clowns go in. Finally got to new house at like 10:30. Slept on a piece of foam that was (no lies)3 feet long. Begin unpacking.

At this point, you're probably thinking, wow, that it a heck of alot of packing. But there's more

Week Three: Continue unpacking house. Go empty storage unit. Pack storage unit items in the closet. Contemplate packing for Baltimore. Put off packing for Baltimore. Finally pack for Baltimore. Yay for not overpacking Baltimore stuff!

3 AM: Wake up. 5 hours of sleep? maybe less? Grab breakfast, grab stuff.
4:10 AM: Leave house. MASSIVE PROPS to the fam for getting on the road a full 5 minutes ahead of schedule. Normally we're 15 late.
4:40: Get to airport
4:45: Begin security stuff. No officer, the blond, green eyed girl speaking with a Southern draw and wearing a college tshirt is, in fact, NOT a terrorist. Shocking.
5:05: Wait for plane.
6:00- 8:00: Fly to Memphis.
8:30- 11:45: Fly to Baltimore
11:45- 1:30: Wait for Lite rail, ride Lite Rail, get picked up
1:30 on: Basically set up and started meeting people, did some orientation stuff and CRASHED at 10:15. Glorious sleep haha.

This is getting long, so I will try and post tomorrow to talk about my dorm (or my garret as I have taken to calling it.) and everything up here. Good night!

Monday, June 1, 2009

The who, the what, the where, and the why.

Nell's answers to her most commonly asked questions:
*Where are you currently?
-Goldthwaite (pronounced Goathwait): goat capitol of Texas or something ridiculous like that.
Human population: 2,000. Goat Population: A bazillion and one.
Nearest Wal-Mart: 33 miles either direction.
True story. One time, I was sitting on my parent's back stoop (in the middle of town mind you) and I heard a cow mooing. A cow. Mooing. In the middle of town. There was A COW MOOING IN THE MIDDLE OF TOWN.
Other sights include: a missing calf sign and a gun show advertised as FUN FOR
Also home to a County Museum that I have the sneaking suspicion is alot like the Twickham Museum in Stars Hollow of Gilmore Girls.... Fighting urge to explore it.

*Why are you there?
-My parent's live here. Oy vey. As of June 11th, they will move to ANOTHER small town, Castroville. Twice the population for half the number of goats. Does a body good.

*When and why are you going to Baltimore?
-June 25th. I get to be a Resident Assistant to "Talented Youth." Read: a bunch of super awesome smart allecks who are alot like me. yay!!!!!!! My hall theme is "Broadway" they're gonna love it. Cause I'm the cool 20-something RA! Downside: Middle school age drama. Plus the inevitable staff drama. Oh goody.

I think that's it. Post a question if ya have one...

Mischief Abounds

10:45pm: Knock on door. In Smalltown, USA, who in the heck knocks on a door at 10:45? Nell contemplates picking up a butcher's knife only to realize, this is Redneck Texas, what would the point in that be? Door knocker hits door bell. Why thank you. Nevermind the fact that the little big one has finally gone to bed. Yes, please wake him up.
10:50pm: Nell hears part of conversation, neighbor woman: "Well I'll be, it was rainin' in our backyerd and not the front. Strangest thing. Doesn't that just beat all?" Excuse me Aunt Bea, here in even here in Mayberry isn't a bit un-neighborly to knock on a door at 10:45pm? Nell walks away
11:00pm: Mom and Dad have gone outside and continue conversing with neighbors. What could possibly be important. Nell stands by door to hear more of conversation. Neighbor man: "An' these two kids done come paint ballin' ma house. And I know it ain't much but for ------- grand, it's ma house. So I says to them not to mess with ma house and I go back in and get a potato shooter. That's raght, a po-tat-o shooter. *wife interjects: It's awfully loud!* And I pick up 2 dozen eggs and head back out and thur's a truck settin' there and some man asks if I seen two kids. And I says no but ask if he's thier daddy, cause if he is I may just launch a few eggs at that purty truck..."
Nell leaves conversation to report incident in her blog.

Over and out.

***** THIS JUST IN: Neighbor man can shoot a potato with the aforementioned potato shooter two blocks. (His point of reference was hitting the court house from his house...)*****

Saturday, May 30, 2009

Writer's block.

I created a blog. And I have nothing to say... Darnit.