Vices are pretty bad by themselves. When you combine them, they seem to take on a lifeform all their own. Drinking and cigarettes. Coffee and caramel sauce. ANTM and MySpace. Christine and Nnenna, beautiful chemists, know what it’s like to mix reactive and potent substances.

For the past two nights I have spent far too long searching for ANTM contestants on MySpace. I have successfully found most of this season’s contestants and a handful from seasons past — Dani the crazy conservative, Cassondra with the fear of scissors and others. But I have yet to find Lisa, my favorite next to Joanie, of course. I am officially friends with Joanie Dodds. Don’t be too jealous.

Dear Academia,

The weekends preceding graduation should probably be spent feverishly working on assignments and preparing for final projects. Instead, I’m working on my outfit for graduation. Dress? Check. (And by check I mean I have successfully cut back on groceries to afford the dress.) Shoes? Quasi Check. Hair? Quasier check. Jewelry? The Quasiest of checks. This is one final project I’m more than happy to work on.

I apologize, but please understand I have slaved away for so long and momentum is just too hard to maintain these days.

Your (once) faithful prodigy,

Emily Atwood

Those who know me know that I love corny humor. I repeat corny jokes with such fervor that I don’t mind that my laughter is being met with confused and judgmental faces. (There were two blueberry muffins in the oven. One leans over to the other and says, “Boy, it’s hot in here.” And the other one says, “AH! A TALKING MUFFIN!”… so great.)

In a quest for spontaneity during my 9th-straight work hour, I headed to the coffee shop on campus, unsure of what I would order. Orange mocha? Peppermint Patty? Speckled Cow? And then I see a sign for the week’s special: white chocolate, raspberry, chocolate chips. Sounds wonderful and in all my four years I have never ordered a special. “I’d like a Ring by Spring,” I say, as embarrassment was exchanged right along with my student ID card. “Oh, uh, just the drink special, not the actual thing. I promise.” The cashier nodded. I am sure they named the drink something crazy to mock people like me.

I looked around me, like one who has just discovered the real meaning behind the If Arted game.** Did anyone else hear what I ordered? I grew anxious. They’re going to call out my drink soon! “Ring by Spring for Emily!” I contemplated stopping the syrup production line to order a regular orange mocha instead. The drink maker put the whipped cream on top. He was a computer buddy from class*** — even more embarrassing! Supremo Embarrassment Doomsday was upon me. But then, he met my eyes and lifted the drink up high, Rafiki Style, as a sacrifice to the powerful coffee shop gods who relish a chance to make us non coffee drinkers feel sheepish. And in the moment, I was thankful. And in the next moment, when all that Ring by Spring goodness was traveling through my straw, I was doubly thankful.

*Jeni, Amanda, Lauren — I don’t judge, I only kid.

** Haven’t heard of this game? Find a gullible person and a few friends who are “in the know.” Convince said gullible person that in a Southern American country, it’s slang to say “If” (pronounced eyef) instead of “I am.” So everyone choose a Latin name — Mr. Gullible gets to be the honored Arted — clap in a circle and take turns saying who you are. “Eyef Rosarita! Eyef Eduardo! Eyef Arted!” Get progressively louder, until Arted is thoroughly embarrassed. Corny game, I know. At least I had a disclaimer to start…

*** There is an unspoken friendship between those who bring laptops to class. You glance over at their screen: class notes and MySpace. They glance over at your screen: class notes and Go Fug Yourself. There’s no judging, just an underlying friendship and commiserating for the fellow ADD folk.

Besides waking up an hour before your alarm is scheduled to sound, your day starts pretty well. Class is easy. The day is sunny. Assignments are managed. The anticipated end is near. One could easily make the mistake of assuming nothing could break this nearly perfect chain of good fortune.

So what would you do when you open an email, with the subject line “Graduation??????????” that reads: would you like to be removed from the spring graduation list because of your outstanding exam?

Would you:
* calmly reply saying, “Even though the idea of paying for another semester of private college does sound tempting, I’ll have to pass this time. Thanks.”?
* curl up in the fetal position on the floor, hoping to drown in your own tears?
* drop kick the computer into the faces of those who screwed you over?

I cried. Cursed. Conspired. Condemned the day I signed up for an online LSU class. I can’t believe that someone’s inability to call and say that my credit card did not go through (the first, second, or third time) would put my graduation in jeopardy.

While at home over break, I fell into my normal routine of cereal and TV. As usual, my dad interrupts Dawson’s Creek reruns to say goodbye before he goes off to work. This time he stopped to ask, “Do we get OLN?” Octopus Love Novels? Orange Lotus Nectar? “Outdoor Living Network.” Channel 404. Blessed new cable box.

The Boston Marathon was on this morning. Those people are so skinny that the racing bibs could practically wrap around most of them. The women leaders were cruising at 5:25-mile pace. I never ran that fast when I was only running one mile, let alone 26. But as I sat there eating Honey Nut Cheerios in my pajamas, watching them run in the cold, I couldn’t help but think I got the better deal.

I really think I do have a sick obsession with to-do lists. This is really a to-do list’s cousin, the assignment sheet.

Even though California has seen record rains this season, some of us are still experiencing somewhat of a dry spell. No matter how much lotion I lather on, my skin will hold in no moisture. I’ve been using this Bath and Body Works stuff from the honeymoon suite at the Marriot in Los Angeles. Matt ransacked a bunch of good stuff for when he stayed there with his boss during a business trip — a classic “we have no more rooms left, except this one.” This stuff smells great. It’s an orange ginger “energizing” aromatherapy set. I love the smell so much that I’m almost willing to forget the fact that it doesn’t work.

But finally, I looked at my hands, and the cracking cuticles, and knew there had to be an explanation. I grabbed the bottle and gave it a long, hard look. The contents were mostly empty and then I glanced at the label. Turns out I’ve been subjecting my hands to volumizing conditioner and putting nourishing body lotion in my hair when I travel. I guess my brain was feeling the dry spell too.

It took over 10 hours, but I’m done. Yes, a regular assignment for my weekly class took over 10 hours. Upon finishing, I threw my arms upward and shouted, I’m done! Usually when this happens, silence follows, or maybe a “nice job.” This time, however, Abigail, Danielle, Heather and Kristin cheered loudly! It was great! That should happen for everyone when they finish a major accomplishment. You know, like Jodie, Charlie and Cooper when they finished the modern, controversial ballet.*

*Center Stage is on right now. And Danielle blessed us with Grasshopper Goodness. These two things should also be at the end of every great accomplishment.

Bad Day - Daniel Powter
Date Added: 4/8/06 12:44 p.m.
Play Count: 29
Current Date: 4/9/06 1:34 a.m.
Updated Count: 30