greetings.

Charleston was the shiz. As per usual. I was freaking dead tired, but I have a reputation to uphold in chuck town dammit! So we arrived late afternoon and began with a tour for Victoria. Hollis knows everything about anything in Charleston, so that worked out well. Literally the tour guides with the horse-drawn carriages clomped past us echoing the description of the cistern that Hollis had just given us. The tour guides, however, failed to mention that one mustn't cross the cistern lest one has a desire not to graduate on time, and that one ABSOLUTELY MUST have sex on the cistern before graduation. How one is supposed to go about doing both of those I'm not quite sure, but apparently it's the thing to do.

Hollis had us power through all of campus in a matter of hours. Yes, she's a superstar. I know. That left us with a little bit of down time before dinner at Jim N Nicks. Dinner was deliciousss of course. Melanie and I already knew what we were ordering before we even got to Charleston--pork and ribs platter with two sides of mac n cheese [to share]. And extra cheese biscuits. mmmm. For dinner, we pulled Josh and JD away from their studies, Emily and Libby away from the beach, and Kennetta away from her deep depression that was brought about when we left after cup. Partayyy!!! We sat ourselves at the front of the restaurant, next to the giant front windows that are TOO perfect for people-watching. Lucky for us, there was a high school prom last night. So in addition to the normal tourist freaks (think safari hats, floral pants suit, etc.), we had a whole slew of prom frocks to gawk at. Yes. We toyed with the idea of seating all of us on one side of the table, the last supper style, but then decided it might be nice to be able to move our elbows slash breathe..

After dinner JD and Josh were party poopers and returned to the palace. The rest of us were ready to turn our swag on. Well, actually, Melanie and I were working on our 13th wind or so, and were a tad lackluster when the partying talk started up.. but we came around. Like I sad: reputation to uphold. So we all went over to Emily and Libby's house to play some games. We began with this eff the dealer-esque game, then moved on to rhyme or reason. Rhyme or reason was new to me, but we were fast friends.

NOTE TO SELF: burn and kernel do not rhyme. more specifically, kernel cannot be abbreviated to kern. fml.

We danced, we humped, we identified one another's animal alter egos [apparently I am a field mouse].. all-in-all an incredibly successful night. We made it back to Hollis's house, devoured a large pepperoni pizza, then crashed. Ahh sweet king size bed of JD's conception..

This morning we hit up Einstein Bagels for delicious breakfast sandwiches that Big Jim bought for us via Hollis's bobcat bucks or whatever you call them. Thanks Big Jim!! Hollis is a celeb on campus. We walked in, and she immediately found someone she knew and struck up a conversation. Who does that? Hollis does.

After bfast we went to the market, easily one of my favorite Saturday morning activities in life. It's just a big open-air market with tables set up by vendors, like the one in the French Quarter in New Orleans. Vendors of tee shirts, jewelry, sweet water baskets, art, and basically any and every piece of crap knick-knack imaginable. Glorious. I left the market with a new coozie, shot glass, and tank tee. So pleased with all of my purchases. Truly. I also found a birthday present for baby Kerry, and Smel and I found these freaking cute monogram prints for 1979. Yipee!

We returned to the palace after shopping for a couple rounds of Lingo, then went to lunch at 5 loaves, a delicious cafe right by Hollis's house. We did work on various soup and sandwich combinations, and then on the strawberry shortcake and chocolate cake. Sadly, we had to pack up the car and vamos after lunch because Victoria had to be back in Roswell for Donovan's graduation party tonight.

Since being home, I have taken a much-needed shower, had a much-needed Ru San's fix, and posted 2 much-needed fb albums. That is all. I have two finals Monday that I haven't started studying for. Then 2 more Wednesday. Ave Maria.

okay it's 1 am and my small ass bed is calling my name.

PS dear ridley i am so sorry for the dry spell. forgive me?

peace love and kern. el.

rave.rave.rave.

fact: raving is my destiny.

Last night Pi Phi rented out Level for a reading day eve rave. Level, for those of you who don’t know, is creeper headquarters in downtown Athens. The dance floor is surrounded by mirrored walls, a mini stage, and an upper tier where old men gather to drool over the drunk sorostitutes. Oh and there’s a cage for dancing. Like I said—creeper hq. Upon entry, I reminisced about the last time I’d been on that glorious dance floor of theirs—freshman year Halloween. Ah yes, the glory days of freshman year. All done up in my Indian facepaint and headdress, I had sucked down one of Level’s notorious fish bowls (a generously sized glass fish bowl filled with every clear liquor stocked in the bar, garnished with delicious gummy fishies and a black straw that serves as a siphon), then made my way to the dance floor. Cut to me falling backwards and losing a moccasin. Hot mess party of one? What?

Take away the creepy old men and keep the number of people within the fire code, Level is the shiz. Perfect locale for ravinggg. Between dollar shots at the bar all night long, glow sticks abound, and cascada bumping through the speakers, I was in my element. Seriously I was born for this shit. I have informed the roomies that we are having monthly raves in our new casa. You are all cordially invited.

The pink leggings I rocked? Had those bad boys laying around my room. Same with the rave shades. This might embarrass some, but it’s a source of pride for me. Truly. The bottles of glow paint are new additions to my life, and I have welcomed them with open arms. I will be in full body paint for all monthly raves. That’s a promise. Now I just need a black light and a strobe light.. and a giant fan. Housewarming presents? Quizas?

Yesterday was the last day of classes for the semester. Holler! Liana announced that she will never again be teaching at UGA. Double holler! Scratch that. Triple holler! I had so much crap to do this week, but eff that. I chose to live my life. Monday night I went to the Braves v Cardinals game with Victoria. A family friend gave us her clutch box seat tickets and gold lot parking pass. Too legit to quit. We got pub subs on the way over, then a souvenir cup’s worth of banana split dippin dots at the game. I died. We had this crazy ass usher woman who was prone to screaming and other forms of obnoxiousness. She was ALL about singing take me out to the ballgame, and made sure all of her peeps were all about it too. Truly a treasure of a woman. High point of my night: running into a car. While walking. My knee slammed into the trailer hitch of this truck so loud that people two aisles over in the lot looked up and screamed “DAMN! HEARD THAT ONE!!”. I still can’t figure out how I managed to do that. I wasn’t even texting, just walking. Skillz.

Then Tuesday night I went to the Dave Matthews concert at Verizon. It rocked my world. It was a family affair—Paul got four tickets to the show for his birthday, and gave one to me and one to Victoria because we are awesome. And because his peeps already had tickets, but mostly the awesome factor. Dave was just loving the ATL. He played some of his new stuff. I already love funny the way it is, and cannot wait for spaceman to come out. The best part of the concert was when Dave started dancing. Easily.

So after Tuesday night I kind of had to get my shit together. I had a bio test Wednesday, a French research paper due Thursday, among other such scholastic nonsense.

Wednesday night Ali and I had a two-hour conversation about how we could rule the world if we were Hermione Cullen—the missing link between the wizarding world and vampires. Hear me out: a vampire—impossible speed and beauty, never sleeps, never eats, lives forever, and inevitably has some insanely heightened sense (crossing my fingers for mind reading, but am down with ability to alter the moods of the people around me)—with a wand and a broom. Voldemort couldn’t touch that shit. Nobody could. And how rich would I be if I didn’t drop a cent on food for the rest of my life? And think about all the time I’d have to read and learn new spells if I didn’t sleep. I’d be productive all the time. The world would be my bitch. I was pissed when I woke up Thursday morning and realized I hadn’t been dreaming about Hermione Cullen. Idiot!

And now me Smel and Victoria are in the car on the way to Charleston. Jealous? Yeah. My life is the shit.

sham on.

peace love and raving

hola hola hola

This weather is giving me whiplash. Forget hypomanic episodes. I don't have time to enjoy the sun between all the tornado warnings and torrential downpours that Athens has been all about lately. Boo! I have failed to dress appropriately every day this week. Go me! I'm either severely overdressed, like yesterday when I was bundled up in rain gear and winter wear in the seventy degree afternoon heat (without ray bans no less). Or today, in shorts and a tee shirt in the winds that were gusting up to 20 this morning when I flew. Fail. Epic fail.

I am so very over this semester. Two and a half weeks of class left. What what. This good news does come with a hefty bit of baggage in the form of finals and papers. But what are you going to do? Unfortunately I'm letting my apathy get the best of me. Yesterday, instead of studying for my quiz in linguistics, I opted to watch an episode of Gossip Girl. Since the quiz was optional, there was no motivation whatsoever for me to exude any effort for it. I mean I guess it would have been nice to drop my lowest quiz grade in exchange for a better one, but I wasn't too concerned. Apparently I was not alone. Crazy professor lady handed out all of the quizzes, and everyone sort of glanced at it and then we all simultaneously stood up and peaced out. The poor girl who sits next to me desperately needed to drop her last quiz grade so she asked crazy professor lady if she was kidding. She wasn't. Whatevs, lesson learned--gossip girl trumps studying and all's well that ends well. Or something.

 

Big things are happening for the Jennings fam: Victoria got into College of Charleston and Paul got his driver's permit!! Ah! Why are they growing up? It's weird. Family Photo Op--Easter 09:

Sexy. I know.

PS Easter rocked my world. Like really. I started the day with a breakfast of reese's cups and fried eggs and toast. Then after church the madre got to steppin on her feast-preparations. Moms outdid herself--between the best ham of my life, mac n cheese, sweet potatoes, caesar salad, french bread, and that delicious Welch's bubbly that we love so much.. oh my. Food coma shortly ensued in the form of a three hour nap (after 12 hours of sleep the night before. nbd.).

FYI Coldstone came out with cupcakes. Paul Melanie and I tried one this weekend, and if I had to describe it in one word, that word would be LETDOWN. Let me paint a picture for you: The sweet cream cupcake comes in a chocolate shell. Said chocolate shell is filled with a scoop of sweet cream ice cream and about a centimeter-thick slab of dried-up yellow cake. All of this is garnished with a frozen cool whip frosting and two chocolate shaving curls. My favorite part was the chocolate shell.. yeah no good. Plus it's overpriced. Fail.

New obsession: Angel Taylor. Favorite songs are Make Me Believe, Chai Tea Latte, and Epiphany. The CD is called "Love Travels" and it's amazing. Love it. Love her.

I FINALLY saw Slumdog Millionaire (no thanks to Scott) on Friday at the dollar theater in East Cobb. I had to drive through hail and torrential rains to get there, but IT WAS WORTH IT! If you haven't seen it yet you absolutely must. It's so good. I was talking to my dad about it last week at dinner and he said that what he took away from it was that he will never ever go to India. That same night, Tia-ita's fb status was "Just saw Slumdog Millionaire. Gotta say, I've always wanted to go to India. Now I REALLY want to go to India." Ha. Oh, Tia-ita. I'm so freaking excited for our C Rica reunion dinner next week at Deany Weany's house!

Oh and Amy Poehler's new show "Parks and Recreation" sucks a big fat one. So sad. The pilot episode is free on iTunes right now and I watched it on the elliptical today.. I didn't laugh once. Triste.

I'd like to leave you with the poetry of Paul Abdul. Enjoy.

peace love and chai tea lattes

41: the number of text messages received between 10:30 am monday morning and 7 pm tuesday evening. go me.

So I got the crackberry back. My own, not a new one. AT&T fixed my trackball/ pearl. Daddy said it took them all of 3 seconds to fix the mess I had made. I tried to fix the dang thing for HOURS to no avail. But whatevs. Stella got her groove back.

I slept through Fuad's class this morning. Sad times. I suppose this is my body's way of punishing me for only sleeping for four hours on Sunday and Monday. Sorry, bod. Actually I'm probably only going to get 4 hours tonight. I have a bio test tomorrow and ever since our midterm I have found a new and innovative way to NOT pay attention every single class. One day I skyped with Tommy, my boo francais. Another day I worked on my list of loves and hates to appease the masses slash followers of blog. Yet another day I registered for my classes.. you get the idea. Basically I'm effed.

BIG NEWS: Roxie made her debut today!! For those of you who don't know, Roxie is my totally awesome pink bike with giant retro handlebars. I love her and she loves me and we are in love. I rode her from my house to pi phi today and then back. It went swimmingly if you are wondering. Just swimmingly. She needs a bit of air in her tires and is dying to have a big basket on the front of her, but those were her only complaints. As for me? I had no complaints. When do I ever have complaints??

Oh and also my face is falling off. Seriously I look like two-face. FML. Here's a shot of me taken this afternoon between classes:

Not a big deal. Also take note of my very mournful outfit. Last night, Charlie's alter-ego, Luc, died a horrible and tragic death. Je suis en deuil. Que son ame repose en paix. Bises, Luc.

And in conclusion I freaking love crosswords.

Fin.

peace love and contraband quesadillas.

on being without crackberry.

I have been without crackberry for 33 hours. And counting.

I was trying to compose a detailed discourse in my head about how being without my precious crackberry has ruined my life, but I'm afraid 33 hours has not been long enough to see its true effects. Actually, even the time spent with dysfunctional crackberry was painless.

Starting Thursday, whilst texting Charlie in the rain, the trackball/ pearl of the crackberry ceased to function. Without the pearl, I cannot scroll and therefore (so I thought) cannot do anything outside of calling people on my phone (calling? on a phone?? THATS IT????? blasphemy--I know). I suppressed the panic attack forming in the pit of my stomach as I went on my errands, all the while frantically moving the ball as fast as I could to try and shake it of its illness. I asked employees at both Target and Office Max to take a look at it for me, but no one could help. Over the course of the hour and a half of first being without pearl capabilities, I had already accumulated four text messages and was beside myself with frustration at being unable to read them. I ended up having to CALL 411 (who does that anymore?) to find an AT&T because tomtom was being an id and not helping me in my time of need. The woman at the AT&T store said that I just had to call a number and they would send me a new phone asap. The heavens opened up atop my angelic head to shed light upon me as the heavenly choir started up with the hallelujahs. I giddily skipped back to my car, calling the holder of my AT&T account (also known as daddy) to give him the number to call. In my elated state, I proceeded to pick apart my phone. Even as I was taking it apart, I was asking myself in my head what the hell I thought I was doing, because there was no effing way that I would ever ever be able to repair a dysfunctional piece of technology. Before I knew it, the phone was broken beyond recognition and I was left with a quarter inch hole where my pearl used to be. I know what you're thinking: bad omen. I thought so too, but dear friends hear the good news--we thought wrong!

Here's the thing--I am scrappy. I figured out how to maneuver the crackberry without a pearl. So I really wasn't handicapped at all. Go me.

Here's another thing--tech's pike formal was this weekend. I freaking LOVE formals. It is my goal in college to attend a formal every year. I'm doing well thus far. Basically it's a weekend vacay with a temporary sugar daddy. What's not to love? Free food, free alcohol, free hotel room, someone else drives my butt to the beach.. Seriously. Viva la freaking vida. Not even a dysfunctional crackberry could bring me down from a formal high. [[see fb albums]]

Oh and one other thing. I am one of the luckiest people I know. Let me recount the ridiculousness that has been today:

After the second night in a row with only four hours of sleep, I woke up this morning to hurry up and do my quia homework that was due today (for those of you who have taken language classes at the prestigious university of georgia you know that quia is busy work in the form of cruel and unusual punishment). So I finish quia only to realize that it's already 7 and I would much rather make myself a delicious spinach omelet than bother with doing the rest of my Spanish homework. The rest of my Spanish homework happened to include studying for a quiz that we had today, but I figured I'd just quickly look over the vocab and such before we started the quiz in class. So I take my time with breakfast and don't bother showering (any excuse not to shower!) before walking out into the FREEZING weather to make it to Fuad for 8am. I decide to take a risk and park downtown in a bank parking lot instead of waiting for the bus in the cold, and then walk over to Gilbert. I walk in a couple of minutes late, and everyone is already taking the quiz. Eff. I had no choice but to wing it. So I manage to get through it and he grades them right away. I got a 19 out of 20. Then he instructs us to write a brief summary of the reading that we were supposed to have done today on the back of the quiz. If you recall, I chose omelet over reading, and had not the slightest idea of what the reading was on. I overhear someone whisper "recycling," and scribble down a few sentences about how awesome the reading about recycling was because I love the environment and it had a lot of vocabulary to help me talk about my passion. Fuad added a bonus point to my quiz, and so I got a 100. Then I walked back to my car and was pleased to see a distinct lack of a yellow parking ticket on my windshield. I came home and passed out for three hours, decidedly skipping my stupid linguistics class, and then got ready for my lab at 2:30. I was running late somehow, and so I parked in a residential parking lot that had all of its spots numbered. Probably not the best idea, but again I came back to my car to find I had evaded yet another potential parking ticket. AND we got out of bio lab early for the second week in a row.

So there you have it. I'm scrappy. I had formal to distract me. I'm lucky. These three critical components in my life, and these three alone, have saved me from absolutely losing my mind since the crackberry failed me on that fateful afternoon. Especially since daddy took the crackberry away from me yesterday morning at 10am to go and get me a new one.

Fear not. I shan't be incomplete for much longer. Daddy's bringing my baby back to me at 7pm.

In other news, Jamie's birthday was yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROOMS!). We went to speakeasy for dinner and it was de-freaking-licious. I feasted on gruyere fondue, spinach dip in a honey wheat bread bowl, calamari, crab cakes, and some of smel's white pizza. Oh and a dairy queen ice cream cake with the most wonderful crumbly bits I've ever had in my life. Scratch that. DQ crumbly bits ARE my life. Food baby was alive and well but I did not even care. It was incredible. Charlie I'm taking you to speakeasy when you come visit me this summer. You will love it.

Also Liana (stone cold bitch french professor) is a feminist. She would be. Do you know what that awful woman wrote on my homework assignment? Homework, mind you--not a paper or anything, just a stupid homework. I had written "he thought in his head..." and she circled it and made this big note off to the side that said "where else would he think? in his stomach? in his feet???" Then gave me a B-. BITCH!! I can not wait to purge her from my MWF schedule. Slash from my life.

Countdown to 1979: one month 9 days. EEEEEEEEE

Also I converted Patrick (flight instructor) and John (works at flight school) to Lady Gaga fans. We spent Monday morning watching her music videos and discussing her hatred of pants (slash love of jeweled panties). Patrick is obsessed with the zipper on the face thing she rocked on American Idol. Personally, I'm just obsessed with her.

daddy i'm so sorry i'm so s-s-sorry yeah. we just like to party like to p-p-party yeah.

Apparently there is a handicap bus that takes you to your classes if you are crippled (UGA's version of Southern Cal's valet service provided to their students). Jesse and I have a date for him to break my leg in the near future so that I can take full advantage of this amenity! I'm also hoping to score a wheelchair. An electric one--obvi.

I'm burnt to a crisp after epically failing to apply sunscreen on Saturday and the erratic weather is giving my face a gill-like complexion. Super attractive. Sigh. I should go re-apply lotion to my entire freaking body..

peace love and failblog.