You Know You're at the North Carolina State Fair WHEN...

-The MC’s have to interrupt the opening act of the country
concert to announce the Nascar placements.
-Pork chop on a stick. Reasonably priced, though.
-The turkey shooting booth actually sparks a legitimate debate as
to whether people are shooting real turkeys or not.
-There’s a shady underground black market for ride tickets.
-They’re still selling candy cigarettes (no no, these will only give
you chocolate cancer…)
-I didn’t feel like the large blinking sign reading “Gun Fun” was out
of place and, quite frankly, I was a little disappointed to finally
notice “Water” in front of it.
-The carnies have more sexual harassment charges than teeth.
Carnie: Hey! Tube Top!
Cam: It’s not a tube top! It’s a tube top TANK!
-The sign on one of the rides reads “people of unusually large girth
will not be allowed to ride”
-The “homemade southern candy” is Fun Dip, and it’s covered in a
mysterious dusty substance. (Possibly more Fun Dip?)
-Only 23 of the 100-some rides passed the first safety inspection.
-The people running the games are just plain mean.
Lady: Come play Pluck-a-Duck!!
Us: Oh…what’s the theory?
Lady: (attitude filled glare) There ain’t no theory- you just pick
up a frickin’ duck!
-The words "cow" and "unicorn" appear next to each other in a sentence.
3 words: Deep. Fried. Pickles.

45 Across

For all of those left pondering the meaning of life and the 45 across clue mentioned in the last entry.... it was tat.

Oh, AND I just found this awesome picture that somehow embodies this whole event- how perfect!

Happy Fall Break!

Random Hilarity

So I'm just minding my business on the steps of Wilson Library today, listening to my iPod, sipping coffee, and doing the DTH crossword like any normal college student when the most random thing happened. A girl pranced (a definitive fluid-like pace of skipping) out of the library onto the ledge next to the steps and stands right on the precarious edge of the concrete pillar-majig. Okay...not too weird... oh but THEN, what does she do? She pulls out a pack of cigarettes from one pocket, throws it to the other hand catches it, and puts it back in the other pocket, not having taken a cigarette. At this point, I'm still okay with the whole situation and, quite frankly, more concerned with finding a three letter word meaning "lace work" for 45 across.

Alright, she sits down. I see the weird tatoo that goes up her back since she's wearing a really short shirt and it looks like a barcode or something in the shape of a snake. Odd. Then, to top the whole ordeal off, she pulls out a pair of fingernail clippers and proceeds to clip all of her fingernails while humming an unrecognizable tune (I, of course, have turned off my iPod and peeled my eyes off of the DTH to focus my entire attention on this peculiar girl).

My hopes running high, I don't know what to expect next. Will she actually smoke? Will she eat the fingernails? Will she shout something to the quad? Will she do a little dance? Will she make a little love? Will she or will she not GET DOWN TONIGHT?!?! But alas, she stood up and skipped away, back into the library.

Oh Chapel Hill. Oh Hippie Liberals. I love you more than you know.

Bridging the RA-Resident Divide

I read this article about being an RA over the summer that said the most important thing you must do as a resident advisor is to "bridge the RA-Resident Divide". You must connect with your residents. Well this one goes out to the sweet steam-vent side of 3rd floor Ehringhaus tonight...

(*Note- I'm in the lobby in my pj's getting hot water, completely out of it)

Me: Hey (resident)! How are ya?
Resident X: I'm doing alright, how was Field Day?
Me: Field Day was awesome! You should have been there!
Resident X: Nah, I was having a field day of my own at home.
Me: (slightly confused but trying not to show it) Oh yeah?
Resident X: It was opening day of deer hunting season
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA (spills hot water)

Ah, I love my residents. They rock out like toasted PB&J.

Childhood- Ruined!!

Well if the Sesame Street Gang didn't do the job, Brian Daoust surely did. I look up at my stereo this morning to change the radio station and WHAT do I see but my Gumby and Pokey fgurines getting it on next to the left speaker. Oh Heavens.

Tuesday, Not Just for Homework Anymore

I LOVE TUESDAYS! Best day of the week, by far. :)

C to the Olo (rado) Ooh, that was bad.

Where I'm from:

What I Tell People


Where I'm really from:

But No One Ever Admits To Unless They're Voting.
Heck YES check out that Pacific Islander percentage.

Where I'd be from if I wanted people to think I was cooler than I really am:

Too bad this would be awesome.

So many fond memories..... NOT

I guess only fellow chemistry-nerds would understand this one. So apologies to the rest of you. And apologies to the chemistry-nerds too, since you probably curled up in the fetal position gagging at the sight of this "cheery" picture screaming "CONFORMATIONAL ISOMERS! ENANTIOMERIC ISOMERISM!!!DangNABBIT MY MODEL KIT IS BROKEN!!".

Harry Potter- source of my psychological issues?

Let me just say how excited I was when, all of a sudden, I had a flash of brilliance at dinner and thought I had stumbled upon the most secretive hidden secret that was the most awesome thing I had ever remembered/learned. I thought it was November. The 4th Harry Potter movie comes out in November. I thought I was GENIUS for having remembered that.

And then I realized. It's only October.

Story over. Psychological consequences of said events just beginning.

Being an RA

Okay so a lot of you non-North Carolinians that I know have been asking about life as an RA. Life as an RA is great. Ish. I mean, I LOVVVE it beyond a lot of other things (strained peas, for one). Nah, I'm just kidding, I actually do really love my job. Especially since my residents rock my world, we have a sweet suite band, and it turns out my life calling may be bulletin-board making. But alas, I can appease your curiosity no more. There is this thing called "confidentiality" but I mean, let's be honest, I don't really like big words. I usually stop reading after 5 or 6 letters and "confid" means NOTHING to me. Just kidding, what was I talking about? Right. I can't really talk about anything. I mean, my residents could be reading this, my fellow RAs, my boss, or maybe even my future boss with Denver Waste Management services. No resume can save me from that kind of irresponsible RA-ship.

So here's what you get: RAs are awesome. We really are. I've seen some stuff, I've talked to some people. I get trained on some stuff I hope to never deal with. Some people come to me, some people don't. Some RAs get fired, most don't though. I have a sweet badge. I carry a walkie-talkie. I have called the police. More than once. I have called EMS. More than once. I have smelled things that one should not smell on a dry campus. Trash in the hallways is not tolerated. I am a nice person deep down. I got free pancakes on rounds one night. I like everybody. My residents really do rock. I'm not looking forward to Halloween. I'm not good at programming. So basically, there has been stuff, there will be stuff. I can't talk about this stuff.

Confid.