sleep. or lack thereof.

I haven’t slept through the night in over a week and it’s pretty much driving me insane. I can’t fall asleep, I can’t stay asleep, I talk in my sleep, I sleepwalk, etc. (I woke up standing in the middle of the bathroom the other night.)

I’m always wide awake when I should be falling asleep, but when my alarm goes off the next morning, I can barely stand up I’m so tired. I think I fell asleep with my eyes open when I was eating lunch at work last week.

Nothing helps – not melatonin supplements, not aromatherapy, not listening to my iPod…NOTHING. The bags under my eyes would make Louis Vuitton jealous.


pardon the interruption.

Blogging will resume once my life becomes normal(ish) again. Adjusting to a new schedule/new semester/never wanting to leave the house because it’s so cold/many other trials and tribulations of life as a 21 year old female has left me with no desire to blog right now.

everything in transit.

Tomorrow I go back to school for my last semester of college and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited, anxious, terrified, overwhelmed, etc. It really does seem like yesterday that I was just moving in for freshman year, but at the same time, so much has happened in the last three and a half years that it’s hard to believe it’s only been that long since I first came to Marist. Whoever said high school is the best four years of your life clearly never went to college.

Also: I made the executive decision to not write any “Rant & Rave of the Day” entries on the weekends. I’m far too lazy on Saturdays and Sundays.

rant & rave of the day 1/16/09

Rant: It’s 4 degrees outside. It hasn’t been warmer than 20 degrees in the last week. It’s currently warmer in Alaska than it is in Connecticut.

Rave: Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger, pilot of US Airways flight 1549. I really hate flying, but knowing there are people like Sully in the cockpit make me feel just a little bit better.

this is pitiful.

From the Poughkeepsie Journal:

Watching its 15-point lead in Thursday’s second half evaporate, the men’s basketball team from Marist College lost to visiting Siena, 91-85 in overtime, as the Saints remained undefeated in Metro Atlantic Athletic Conference play.

Ouch. I’m almost thankful this game happened over break so we all weren’t there to witness this.

rant & rave of the day 1/15/09

So now that I’m an established blogger, (2 days!) I’ve decided to start my first daily feature. Here is “Rant & Rave of the Day,” a place where I get to highlight something I love and something I don’t love each day.

Rant: The music they play at my gym. I understand that background music is sometimes necessary, but about 90% of the gym’s patrons bring their own form of music, whether it’s an iPod or a one of its ancient predecessors. (I saw a lady at the gym wearing a fanny pack once, in which she was storing her Walkman.) The major problems I have with my gym’s music are a) it’s wayyyy too loud, and b) the music selection is horrible. I have to turn my own workout music of choice (gotta love Circus) up so loud that my eardrums ache just to drown out the worst selection of Top 40 music. I go to the gym around the same time each day, and within that two hour window, I can guarantee that I’ll hear Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl” and Wyclef’s “Sweetest Girl” competing with the music on my iPod. It’s like my gym has one CD that they start at the same time each day, so by the time I come in at 9:30, it’s Katy Perry time. The amount of Mariah Carey they play is nauseating; I think the only person who would want to work out to Mariah Carey music is Nick Cannon.

I’m glad today was my last day at my home gym. The next time I work out will be at my school’s gym, where the music in the weight room is far enough away that I can listen to “Womanizer” at a tolerable volume while I’m on the elliptical.

Rave: Lisa Frank

Any girl who grew up in the 90’s must remember the bright, cheery designs of Lisa Frank. Her fluorescent animals adorned backpacks, notebooks, stickers and many other things that I deemed essential when I was in elementary school. I remember my Trapper Keeper in 4th grade was Lisa Frank, decorated with two golden retriever puppies sitting in a sandcastle. I was talking with one of my friends recently about Lisa Frank, and all we could remember about her designs was how bright and obnoxious they were. We might laugh at it now, but back in the day, having a folder with two bunnies dressed in tutus was a guaranteed way to make the other girls in your class jealous.

pete wentz writes the truth

I’m the kind of person who likes to analyze song lyrics and pick out particularly meaningful sections to put in my away message/Facebook profile. I realize I share this interest with middle school girls who quote the Jonas Brothers, so make fun of me all you want. Here’s my most recent find:

“You can only blame your problems on the world for so long/Before they all become the same old song” -Fall Out Boy, “The (Shipped) Gold Standard”

Think about it.

After offering so many excuses for your problems, it won’t take long for people to realize the root of the problem isn’t everything and everyone else, it’s you.

Who knew Pete Wentz could be so profound?

some observations…

…about last night’s episode of American Idol.

1) New judge Kara DioGuardi is a very, very welcome addition to the stale trio of Randy, Paula and Simon. She knows what she’s talking about, she can actually sing, and she isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with the contestants.

2) Ryan Seacrest tried to high-five a blind man. It was so painfully awkward I had to look away from my TV.

3) Bikini Girl. I don’t know your name, (nor will I bother to look it up because I suspect you’re the kind of fame whore who Googles yourself to see how awesome you are) but I would like to punch you soundly in the face. Do you really think that wearing an Ed Hardy bikini and singing “Vision of Love” exactly the same as Mariah Carey did is a way to advance in this show? Well, apparently it is, but I CANNOT WAIT to see you and your barely-on-pitch voice get eaten alive during Hollywood week.

4) Simon – I love you just the way you are. You were funny without being mean, and nothing makes me laugh harder than the horrified looks that cross your face as you listen to terrible auditions. Your shtick was getting stale there for a while during seasons 6 and 7, but you seem to have perfected the balance between mean and snarky this year.

Two more hours of this nonsense tonight. I can’t wait.

there’s no crying in baseball. or football.

Looking ahead to this weekend’s NFL playoffs, I can’t help but be underwhelmed. Yes, the Patriots were unceremoniously booted from the playoffs two weeks ago (thanks for nothing, Brett Favre!) but I’m not going to sit here and wax poetic on what could have been. Surveying my playoff options, I put my support behind the Chargers because I liked them ever since the Pats played them in the AFC Championship last year. Thanks to LaDainian Tomlinson and his injured groin, and Philip Rivers playing like it was his first game, my fill-in team got eliminated on Sunday.

So now I’m back where I usually am: generally apathetic about the Super Bowl, more interested in the commercials than the actual game. It’s much different from last year, when I spent all day preparing for a Super Bowl party/inter-house battle, half of my friends being Giants fans, the rest of us Patriots supporters. As I’m sure most of America remembers, the Patriots lost by three points and I lost control of myself. Probably because I was seriously overtired and probably because I hate losing anything, even a game of Monopoly, I started crying. Sports rarely move me to tears, but in that instant, when the Giants fans in the room were going absolutely crazy, I was just devastated. Monday morning was even worse when I had to commute into Manhattan and see people wearing Giants apparel on every street corner.

Is there some sweet karmic justice served with the Giants being so soundly beaten by the Eagles? Uh, yes. I heard one sports analyst predicting it would be a Manning vs. Manning Super Bowl, but right now, it looks like the only thing Peyton and Eli will be playing in is the Double Stuf Racing League.

it’s that time of year again…

…for the premiere of American Idol, obviously. Season 8 premieres tonight, and I’m excited just for the fact that it’s something new and non-football related to watch. Sure, I’ll probably have Idol burnout in a few weeks, but the addition of a fourth judge and the end of the Nigel Lythgoe-produced era give me hope that I won’t have to watch two hours of people who probably shouldn’t have been let out of the house butchering Carrie Underwood songs.

I know many people, especially those in the entertainment industry, are quick to criticize American Idol, but I’m always fascinated by how quickly these unknown contestants are thrust to the forefront of pop culture. We go from not knowing their names to knowing their criminal records in less than a month.

(Side note: Season 8? Seriously? I can’t believe it’s been eight years since I first watched an episode of Idol.)