On the Fifth Day of December

Dear Caitlin,

I just saw a commercial for Twilight: Eclipse and had the following conversation with Erin.

Alex: OH MY GOD I cannot wait to see that.
Erin: Alex, you've seen that.
Alex: I have?
Erin: Yes.
Alex: ......
Erin: Remember the time you and Caitlin left us all, and came back after two rounds of margaritas?

Ah yes, I remember it well.

Miss you in the land of the fake fireplaces, and the home of the Baby.

See you soooooon!

Alex

Later on the Fourth Day of December

Dear Caitlin,

Kyle bought more powdered drink mix.

This means the total amount of drink mix in our home has increased from enough to make lemonade for Australia for a year, to enough to make lemonade for Canada AND The Duggars for a year.

Let me know if you're ever thirsty.

Love,

Alex

On the Fourth Day of December

(12.4.1961: birth control pill became availale to all women in USA)

Dear Caitlin,

I am obsessed with The Big Bang Theory. Obsessed. Like, I literally sing Soft Kitty to myself as I'm falling asleep at night, and do a "Sheldon" based YouTube search at least twice a week. I watched the entire series in one month. I am a super-fan, and I want to date Leonard.

I will date Leonard.

Bazinga,

Alex

On the Second Day of December

Dear Caitlin,

It was very rude for you to move out, and not clear the refridgerator of the 3/4 full gallon of milk you had been working on. Since, as you know, things easily get pushed to the back of our refridgerator, it took several days for us to realize where the repulsive odor was coming from. When I finally decided to attack the source (the refridgerator) I was appaled at the separated, moldy, yellowish-white concoction that I found in the light pink Kirkland Signature Skim Milk container. Obviously I could not just dump it out--trash day was not until Thursday, and I was not going to release that odor further into our world. You'll be happy to know I attached an FYI post-it, reading, "THIS IS NOT OKAY." The next time you plan to move out, please do not buy milk merely days before your departure.

Annie took care of the disgusting-ness yesterday. I have since forgiven you, but I don't know if she has.

Hope all is well in Beantown.

Love,

Alex

On the First Day of December

Dear Caitlin,

Let's start with yesterday.

I saw Hurricane Chris at the library, and naturally, stopped to say hi. I will not bore you with the details of our conversation, mostly because I don't remember it. I was more focused on trying to get a peek at his socks, to essentially "catch him red-footed" in argyle.

In other news, DeStorm could really use DeLightning back. Despite the occasional Hurricane Chris sighting, DeLame is really bringing us down.

Miss you tons,

DeThunder

Thou Shalt Not

Commandments 11 July 2010

1) Thou shalt not watch the World Cup if thou shalt not want to watch the World Cup
2) Thou shalt not play nice with others if thou shalt not want to play nice with others
3) Thou shalt be able to regret decisions if thou so chooses


It's official. I'm not watching the world cup with you. And writing it in [virtual] stone so I can stop worrying about you* being mad at me.

*This post is not directed toward anyone in particular, in fact, it's a warning to anyone further who may try and get me to watch the World Cup with them.

You and I are a Gang of Losers

Remember back in the Old Testament, when Moses and Pharaoh had that fight? The one where Moses kept yelling, "Let my people go," unknowingly inspiring dozens of slave chants for thousands of years to come. But Pharoah wouldn't let his people go, so God had to get involved. And then all of Egypt was plagued with bugs and frogs and disease, until God finally had enough, so he made all the believers put lamb's blood above their doors for protection when the nighttime spirit came to take the firstborn children. (Am I triggering anything? Would you let me teach your child's Sunday School class?)

Well, there's this squirrel named Jacob who lives in our trash can (Coincidentally, his name was not Biblically inspired, unless God's in my head in which case, that's really freaky since only Santa can get in my head...). Anyway, Jacob has a psychological quirk.

Squirrel psychology. What do you know about it? I don't know much. Other than the fact that Jacob obviously has OCD. OR maybe he's just freakishly clairvoyant.

You see, Jacob snacks on our leftover toast, which he finds in our trash can. But he never finishes it. He nibbles it all the way to the edge, making a lovely "L" shape, and then stores it in every corner of every window of our house. Until today, we didn't know it was him. We thought that one of us was playing tricks on the others (there are 6 of us who live in the house).

Is he saving it for later? Decorating? Just organizing it? There's no way to know. Is it possible that he's protecting us? Positioning the toast strategically, to distract an evil spirit? As an offering? Or maybe, because he's obviously taken a liking to all of us here on Adsit Court, he's suggesting that we're believers in whatever squirrel-god to whom he subscribes. Maybe he's taking Moses' lead, trying to get us out of the house. Is this toast our warning? Or a warning to others?

It's gotta mean something.

The "Alexandra" Fetish

I never go on Twitter.
Well, sometimes I go on Twitter. The last time was when my roommates and I discovered "Jersey Shore" the first time. I tweeted about it.

So a few weeks ago, my Sean texts me about joining Twitter--the conversation was fairly predictable: How do I get a Twitter? What should my name be? What to I tweet about?
But I didn't have time to talk about it then. "We'll talk about this later," I said. But we never did. We don't need to, I thought, because I'd just received an email-- Mr. Strike wants to follow you on Twitter. My Sean had figured it out for himself...

...or so I thought, until today, right now...

With thirty minutes to calm my mind before the economics test that will determine my grade for the semester, I decided to sign onto Twitter, where I found seven follow-requests (which probably have a special Tweet-y-name in Tweet-land--I'm not that savvy yet), all of which I accepted.
So I decided to check out Mr. Strike's profile.
Last Tweet: February 24th: "I'm so fu**in horny."
Well that's bold, Sean, and somewhat out-of-character.

Scrolling down, I realize each and every one of his Tweets was of this nature, accompanied by what could be considered an appropriately themed wallpaper: naked women, and boobs, boobs, boobs.
But wait, all of his friends are named "Alexandra..."

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Martin Luther King Jr. was not Lincoln's Alter-Ego

7:15 am: roommate sets off fire alarm
7:17 am: I show roommate how to make alarm stop
10:35 am: Music is my boyfriend
11:25 am: I'll do whatever I need to do to get an auto-tune voice changer
2:16 pm: no I will not participate in your snowball fight
3:10 pm: do they cancel parades for snow?
4:35 pm: I'm loving angels instead

Brenda and the Pencil Sharpener

She keeps it in her coat pocket. That poor girl.

On second thought...

might they be unicorns in disguise, shrouded in an ugly grey veil, just trying to blend in?

Well who am I to say they're ugly?

The Glory Days, for the Rhinos, at least

Today I was wondering what kind of dinosaur I would have been back in prehistoric America.

That led me to wonder where dinosaurs were most prevalent.

Isn't that the kind of thing you should learn in elementary school? The kind of useless information that should stick with you your whole life, the kind of thing you wish you didn't know because you'd rather have more space to learn important things, like the structure of fiscal policy or how to really play poker?

But most importantly, it led me to wonder if rhinoceroses are leftover dinosaurs.

Isn't it the only thing that makes sense?

They're big, sturdy, and grey. With horns, kind of like a triceratops, and scaly skin like I would imagine a dinosaur would have--kind of like an iguana. And they don't really have predators, and they travel in packs, and no one ever wakes up thinking, "Today I'm going to mess with a rhinoceros."

Nothing like a camel. (Camels are furry, slow, and harmless-looking. That doesn't mean they're actually harmless, but what is, really? Anyway, I had to compare it to something from the animal world otherwise it would have been completely random and off-base. And for Lent I'm trying to be less random, more easy-to-follow, among other things, like being less passive aggressive. All of these things will contribute to a personality reform, in a good way: a more down-to-earth way.)

These are the Glory Days for the rhinos, since they are the leftover dinosaurs.

I think that's enough for today.

Keep in mind I don't re-read these posts before I publish them. That would be a waste of time.

Remind me to write a poem about rhinos.

And please recognize, that I made an extreme effort to chronologically describe my thought process on this one.

Happy Monday

Presidency (First-Lady-ness)

How do deaf people become literate?
I think this has potential.


My new philosophy:

English, Economics, Religion, Music:

it's all about communication; everything is about communication!


potential doctoral thesis?
Alexandra Moore, Ph.D?

meow

I slept with Tiger

once, apparently

what a funny word,

"interrogation."

is this what you're trying to do?

is this what it feels like?

or is this what you think i want from you?

you have no idea what i want

how many times do i have to tell you?

i can't wait for "suddenly" to come