The war between my major and minor




People often don't get it when I tell them what I'm studying, especially my fellow students in either field. The attractive, well-dressed PR kids minoring in hospitality can't fathom a world of public communication beyond press releases and promo events. These are the fun-loving types who want to be publicists with a client list of celebrities miles long. These are the skinny-jean-wearing boys and girls who want to write for a fashion magazine. These are the douchebags who want to work in the "music industry", or worse yet, the "record industry."



Except for the last, I really really love my shallow(er) classmates. They are so much fun and they have the best accessories! They tell me about the awesome new tapas bar I need to try, and that Salon Red's new Candler Park location has just opened around the corner from its old location. They love my hair! They want to know where I got my shoes! They want to friend me on facebook! Omigod we just have so much fun we can hardly stand it!!



They don't even know how to react when I tell them my interests lie in political communication, and that, come graduation, I want to move to Washington, DC or New York, where all the political action is.
B

"Wow...I'm not really into politics. It's really cool that you are, though."



Then there are the political science nerds. There are more heterosexual men here than in PR lalaland, but their fashion sense and/or social skills always seem to be lacking. The women are generally bland looks-wise, with the exception of a few stray Russians tarted up like airport hotel call-girls.



The pace is slower in the political science circle, the vibrancy and energy of PR replaced with the laconic narcolepsy of political theory and poor fashion sense. Sometimes I wonder if anyone besides myself and the blowhard 19-year-old who has read (too much) Noam Chomsky and WANTS EVERYONE TO KNOW IT has a pulse.



The Polisci nerds are completely bewildered by the PR major taking upper-level courses in Comparative Politics and Public Administration. What is she doing here? is a look I tend to get at the start of every term. They soon realize I mean business, though, when I make one of the highest grades on the first test. That's when they start to try and figure me out.



The problem is most of these kids are distrustful of THE MEDIA or anything having to do with THE MEDIA. They like to blame everything that is wrong in our political system on THE MEDIA. They are disgusted by how much THE MEDIA is involved in electoral politics. They hate that THE MEDIA doesn't have enough international news coverage. They despise THE MEDIA for putting "Britney and K-Fed Split" on the front page of CNN.com. They think PR is all SPIN and the douchebags in THE MEDIA are just the messengers of PR SPIN.



Or something along those lines. Anyway, the point is there seems to be this huge disconnect, at least at my school, between those who study and analyze policy, and those who publicize and interpret (for the public) policy. It's kind of disheartening. I find myself constantly explaining why I'm studying what I am, and if I can get people to shut up and listen for a minute, it actually makes a whole hell of a lot of sense to them.



(But, just between you and me, if I were to throw a party I'd invite the PR people over the polisci people any day.)

###

The Great Movie Paradox, Part Deux: It's zombie apocalypse. Now what?



Bonnie and Bonnie's Rob had me over for dinner and to watch Shaun of the Dead tonight. The best part was when Bonnie's Rob paused the movie to say, "It's the zombie apocalypse--right now. Where do we go to hole up?" The three of us riffed for a good ten minutes about safe places and good people to grab as we run for the hills/bunker/artist loft (Good: nearby neighbors who own samurai swords. Bad: those who've already been turned into zombies.) Bonnie finally had to tell Bonnie's Rob and me to shut up and turn the movie back on. Who knew planning a zombie apocalypse escape plan could be so absorbing? I think this is the new "You're stranded on a desert island..." speculative game. Because, really, the chances of a zombie apocalypse are way better.

###

Correction




In the Wednesday, January 24, 2007 post "title", CV was quoted as saying "Like he had band practice an hour before class kind of dirty." CV actually said, "Like he'd been rocking out an hour before class kind of dirty." The editors regret this error.

The Great Movie Paradox




Several (by several I mean nearly all) of my friends have expressed extreme dismay at my lack of movie viewing in the past year. Once upon a time, when I first was dating my ex, I went to the movies ALLTHETIME because it was free, and I got a little thrill at sticking it to the man or whatever by watching movies for free, drinking slurpees for free, putting my feet up on the seats and sprawling out because I was the only one in the theatre, etc etc. I also got to see quite a few movies before their official release dates, which I would then lord over my less privileged friends. ("What do you mean you haven't seen Spider-Man yet? Oh, I forgot it doesn't come out till Friday.")



After a couple of years of this, the thrill long past gone, I rarely went to the movies unless it was something I just HAD to see, or it was a special screening of a foreign film at the High. After having sat through bad movie after bad movie, I could tell you what was coming long before it ever happened on screen. I began to realize that every bad, or even mediocre, movie watched was 90-120+ minutes of my life that I could never have back. On the other hand, watching a movie on the big screen (and granted, I had become extremely spoiled at this point in time because I could very nearly always finangle my own private, or near private screening) is the only way to really enjoy a movie.



And so came the Great Movie Paradox: I want to watch a movie on the big screen, but I will not go see an unviewed movie at the movie theatre for fear that it will suck and I'll have wasted precious minutes of my life on major suckage. However, I won't watch a movie once it's out on DVD., because I only want to see movies on the big screen. The third factor in all this is that I really like movies. So while I really like movies, and love movies on the big screen, I refuse to go to the movies, or watch movies on DVD. (That last sentence was the distillation of the paradox, in case you were confused. A paradox, by the way, is a contradictory statement that nonetheless may very well be true, or one exhibiting contradictory aspects. Taureminis are known for being great personifiers of the paradox.)



I am certain I am not alone in my Great Movie Paradox. There must be other Great Movie Paradox believers out there! I'd bet my life on it.

###

This is just a courtesy post. A courtesy post is a post whose sole purpose is existing as a post. In other words, this is a post of little or no substance.






Thank you, and goodnight.

Food is good






Tapas with someone I know well, three people I know mostly casually, and two people I knew not at all. Delightful! Drinks afterwards was fun too.






I have so many wonderful thoughts swirling around in my head. I think best when I'm busy. (Thank goodness I've been busy!)





Oh yeah, and this post counts as my Thursday post since I'm writing this just before bed.

###

title




In one of my classes, I recognized my professor from his internet dating profile. I thought he looked like a pompous, insecure prick on his profile and guess what? In person, he's a pompous, insecure prick. Long-winded, too. An hour and fifteen minute long monologue every class. Absolutely no interaction with us students.



Thankfully, I was able to spend most of class today making eyes at the cutie across the room. I described him to CV yesterday as not conventionally cute, but hott in that Jack White kind of way. Slightly dirty looking, but not a I-forgot-to-shower-for-3-days dirty.



"Oh, I get it," CV said. "Like he had band practice an hour before class kind of dirty."



Exactly.



Also in that class is the hottie with the lip ring who's a member of my semester-long group project group. Swoon! I don't care that he's, like, 19 and from Alabama, dude is hott.



And I have a new gay boyfriend in one of my journalism classes. We had to interview each other today for a profile writing excercise. We got to find out all sorts of fun things about each other, like that he's a Virgo and I'm high-strung. It was lots of fun.

###

"Politics is like drugs, alcohol, and gambling: just another addiction."

Michael Goldman, political consultant







I'm an addict. O, the joys of watching the State of the Union address on C-SPAN, free of any commentary. I get a perverse pleasure in watching Pelosi's reactions: approving applause, grudging applause, standing ovation, stoney refusal to lift hands from lap. Her choice of cream colored blouse and sparkly mint green jacket was poor. It looks awful on camera, and doesn't give enough of a sense of power. Bush's light blue checked tie is a little too seersucker-suit-in-mid-June for my tastes, although I understand the use of light blue as a calming influence. Condelezza Rice is appropriately dressed--if she were going to a rich man's funeral. And Cheney, a purple tie? Seriously?







Tsk, tsk, doesn't anyone have a competent wardrobe consultant??







Hey look, it's the woman who created Baby Einstein! And her daughter in a horrible shiny button-down! And a man who either jumped over or under a New York subway train...I have no idea what's going on. This speech is devolving really fast.







Ok, I'm stopping now, so I can focus on enjoying my drug...

###

Saved!




Saved! was on Oxygen tonight. It's a FABULOUS movie. If you've never seen it, I say, see it! Hell, any movie that makes Macaulay Culkin look hott in a wheelchair has to be good.




Bonnie & I have tentatively agreed that May will be the time for us to take our fabled trip to New York City. We will visit all the Atlanta ex-pats who currently reside there, and hop from couch to couch. It will be fantastic.



I made a 97 on my first quiz of the semester. Here's to more of the same.

###

The Metropolitan Museum of Art presents a Timeline of Art History

Take a chance on me




I've been bad. I made promises I never intended to keep. That's right, I promised you 'A Good Lover is Newsworthy' when really, the whole thing is still swirling in my head and I have no idea where to continue. So I'm throwing that all out and acting like it never happened.




Moving on.




I spent the weekend at my grandparents' house, which was enough to nearly drive me to insanity. I'm having to listen to ABBA now to decompress. ABBA, people! That's how bad it was.



I thought online classes were going to be wonderful and easy. Instead, they have turned out to be obnoxious and a burden. Think of the stupidest web forum you were ever a regular poster on back when you were, like, 15, and multiply it by annoying. ("Oh fuck...I have to actually read all this shit and comment on it like the illiterate bastards actually had somethign worth saying?!?!?") Oh well, it could be worse.




Right?

###

Slight delay




Ok, no time for an examination of conflict today...been running around like a crazy woman since I got up this morning. Had my first quiz of the semester; think I made an A. Will promise to post part 2 and 3 of 'A good lover is newsworthy' tomorrow from my grandparents' house. Promise. Promise. Even the slow dial-up shall not deter me.




Happy birthday, Edgar Allen Poe! (FYI, he died in 1849. FYI, he also married his 13-year-old girl cousin. FYI, the man had issues.)

###

A good lover is newsworthy (Part 1 of 6)




It is generally agreed that there are six criteria for determining the newsworthiness of a story: impact, conflict, novelty, prominence, proximity and timeliness. I've been thinking a lot the past few weeks about how a good lover should meet all six of those criteria as well; hence, a good lover is newsworthy.





Over the next few days, I'll be examining each of the six criteria, and how a good lover should meet each one. Tonight, a little about






Impact




A good lover should make an impact. When you meet someone special for the first time, it should hit you in some way. You should remember him or her, and think about that person for some time afterwards. No one ever says, "(S)he was the best lover I ever had...and I can't remember her/his name..."




Impact also has to do with relevance and usefulness. Obviously, a good lover will be relevant and useful to you.




I like what my textbook has to say about impact (p. 5): Somtimes, of course, impact isn't immediately obvious. Sometimes it isn't very exciting.





Sometimes a good lover isn't immediately obvious. Sometimes a good lover isn't very exciting. Sometimes love is hard work.

***

Tomorrow (January 19): An examination of conflict

###

I have a good explanation for not writing yesterday.



Ok, so yesterday didn't turn out quite how I had in mind. What was supposed to be a salad, beer, and trivia ended up as salad, pitchers of beer, trivia, pool, after party, and passing out on a friend's cigarette-smelly couch. I hadn't done anything quite like that in a long time, and I remember why. I had to call out 'sick' to work because ye olde hangover this morning wouldn't let me face the world. Note to self: You don't party like this anymore because you end up smelling like cigarette butts and stale beer. Also, your contacts become glued to your eyeballs. Super gross.




I've discovered I love a shower and my own bed too much these days to find sleeping on a bachelor couch appealing anymore.



However, to redeem myself and my bad behavior yesterday, I will post another entry this evening. It will be a piece I've been working on for a few weeks, entitled 'A Good Lover is Newsworthy.'

###

Jump


If Rob & Graham & I were in a band, this would be our album cover. Perfect pretentious joy.



I know I disappeared for a couple of days, but this weekend was filled with MOVING into the IKEA 350-sq-ft room (not literally, although I love the idea of me living in IKEA; it's like From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler meets, well, IKEA. I'd have to get up and leave before the store opened in the morning. I'd go down the escalator for my $1.99 breakfast, then I'd go off to work and school, then when I got back in the evening I could eat Swedish meatballs while waiting for all the customers to leave with their flat-packed couches and coffee tables.). It's a tiny little place, but it's all mine, and it's close to every where I frequent. I've signed a lease that has me here till December, aka when I graduate, and I can't believe it (graduation) is less than a year away.



And I really do have to stop playing on the internet, and watching TBS. So more tomorrow, I promise, now that Ghini so graciously gave me this USB wireless internet thingie that has brought the internet back into my home life.

###

Where were you the night of January 9, 2007?



or



In lieu of decent postings





Grey's original post





Melissa's take





Rob's thoughts on the whole thing






I encourage you to click on any (or all!) of the links above to see what you missed Tuesday night. Hi-lar-i-ous. So good.

###

The Grand Romantic Gesture



I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few days about the Grand Romantic Gesture. You know what I mean; in elementary school it was the note with the 'check yes or no' boxes, in high school it was a mix-tape of Songs That Mean Something, and in romantic comedies it generally involves Act III: 'Boy Gets Girl' (Act I is 'Boy Meets Girl', Act II 'Boy Loses Girl').



When I was younger I scoffed at the Grand Romantic Gesture, but today, at 23 1/2, what I wouldn't do for some nice guy to bring me flowers. (Ok, maybe not flowers...but you get the general idea.) At 16, I desperately wanted to be older and jaded, so I rolled my eyes at the flowers and breathy "You're beautiful" in the airport. At 18, my confidence shaken because I was working in a coffee shop and Not Living Up to My Potential, I was mean to the boys because I could be, and because it made me feel in control.



Of course, the Grand Romantic Gesture has several pitfalls. One, women are crazy psycho stalker bitches if they dare perform the Grand Romantic Gesture. Send Secret Admirer messages to some guy at work? I don't think so, buddy. You'll turn Mr. Wonderful into Mr. Took-a-Restraining-Order-Out-On-Me faster than you can read this sentence.



Two, the Grand Romantic Gesture is often performed by a guy you never wanted to show up on your doorstep. Ever. Even without a rose.



Three, in our 21st-century world of myspace and txtng, men no longer have the balls-to-the-walls attitude the Grand Romantic Gesture requires. I know you're scared of being rejected guys, but come on! Are you not men?



(And since no meditation on the Grand Romantic Gesture wouldn't be complete without a reference to Say Anything...)



Don't be a guy. Be a man. Stand outside my window with that boombox over your head. Except not literally, because it might disturb the neighbors.

###

Discipline?




I'm not sure if this blog-a-day thing is really going to work out. I'm worn out already, and it's only Tuesday night. I feel overwhelmed.



I can do this. I am amazing, right? I can do this.



The proof will be at the end of these fifteen weeks.

###

Maybe I've overstretched myself...again




I think I should have a sign over wherever I live that says, 'Abandon sleep, all ye who enter here.'



I have this awful, awful habit of overscheduling myself. I just want to experience everything, and live a full life, and I don't want to miss out on anything. And I have so many friends that I love to pieces, and I hate it when I go weeks and weeks without seeing some of them, which happens a lot when I'm in school.



And on that note, school started back today. Sigh. I just have to get through this semester, then it's all downhill till December and graduation.



But I promise to write here everyday, regardless of how tired I am. Discipline. I have to improve my discipline. This is one way of doing that.

###

Post a day




In 2006, I had just over 100 posts for the year. I think I can do better in 2007. How bout a post a day, people, a real post a day? First drafts of things I'm working on, so I can solicite feedback and whatnot. Something besides press releases and newsletter copy to keep me in proper form.



I think it's a good idea.

###

NYE couch!

NYE couch!
Originally uploaded by lizerati.

This sort of sums up my NYE experience...surrounded by hottness, kissed by none.

Me & Liz S

wtf is up with my hair?
Originally uploaded by lizerati.

New Year's Eve. Somewhere between 2am and fucked up and sleepy.

I can't get involved (exclamation point)




The date, you ask? I don't want to talk about it.



Ok, I'll talk about it. It was alright. I had some good conversation, he gave me the moony eyes, I knew we were headed nowhere. The reason: He didn't have nice hands. Ok, there was more to it than that, but really, he didn't have nice hands. I've spent my whole life with musicians, artists, writers---those who have nice hands, strong hands, capable hands, crafty hands. I just get really turned off by weak little hands with ragged cuticles. I like hands that look like they've done something fantastic and amazing recently.


***


CV and I had an awesome conversation today about how to say punctuation so it sounds like itself. Let me give you an example. Quessstion mark? (see, you say that one all question-like.) Here's another: hyphennn (it kind of lingers at the end cause it's about to lead into something else.)



Yes, that is the kind of dorky conversation that make me happy, thank you very much. I am not ashamed. Much.



***



I found a new place to live. I'm signing a lease that'll keep me there till December and graduation. I think I'm gonna like this place. I think it's a good space for this last year of school and everything. Maybe I can clear my head a little and figure a few things out.

###

Squeal



Like, omigod, I totally have a date tomorrow night!



Here's to him not being a total loser.

###

Post 113



I had a little free time at work today, and when Melissa and Bonnie's Rob weren't busy entertaining me with their various gmail chat messages (mutant clones, anyone?) I started making two lists: one reviewing 2006's accomplishments, the other outlining what I'd like to achieve in 2007.



So here they both are, for your entertainment pleasure.



***


In 2006 I:



-- lost 20 lbs.

-- took better care of my skin and hair.

-- rolled all my evil credit card debt into not-quite-as-evil student loan debt.

-- was single for the longest stretch of time since 1999. (This, I think, was the healthiest thing I did all year, healthier than the first three points combined. I hadn't realized I had always had a boyfriend or two around until suddenly I had no one.)

-- traveled again.

-- reconnected with old friends.

-- got lots of love and support from my bestest friends, especially over the summer when things were extra hard.



In 2007 I hope to:



-- lose 10 lbs, which would put me back at what I consider my "fighting weight."

-- stop smoking even the occasional cigarette.

-- travel internationally. (Brazil...)

-- figure out what I want to do come graduation in December and the dawn of 2008.

-- spend more time on my personal writing projects and stop being terrified and actually query, damnit.

###

You're evil, blah blah blah...this is why I never bother to take these things. These quizzes always act like cutthroat ambition is a bad thing.

What Fantasy Archetype Are you?
The Totally Wicked Villain You are The Totally Wicked Villain! You're like Sauron (Lord of The Rings), Morgan (Arthurian Legend), The Emporer (Star Wars), The Witch (Narnia), The Angel (Neverwhere), Voldemort (Harry Potter) and The Keeper (Wizard's First Rule). Your shadowy plots and incredible power are immense obstacles to overcome and you are usually cruel, creepy, evil, heartless and have a motive that only The Mentor truly knows. Beware, though, you are almost invariably beaten by the Unlikely Hero, even if you killed the Seasoned Veteran Friend AND the Pillar-of-Strength Love Interest - feats even you rarely accomplish if ever.
Take The Quiz Now!	Quizzes by myYearbook.com

Blow my whistle, baby
or
2007 is the new 1999



I had an awesome week on St. George Island near Apalachicola in the Florida panhandle, and maybe I'll post pictures and tales of sand in the tent tomorrow. (I'm not making promises, people; remember that the Goonies' house photos from Astoria in November have yet to make their internet debut.)



But for now, let us examine how I kicked 2006 to the curb and embraced 2007 as my new, much younger lover.



I spent most of the day of December 31, 2006 riding in the Blue Bomber from St. George to Atlanta. Around Columbus, Georgia I turned my phone on and checked my voicemail for the first time since leaving for the beach. The messages were copious and promising: whereas I had not a single New Year's Eve party to attend when I left Atlanta, by yesterday afternoon I had at least five offers, all of them valid. I was pleased, but a little concerned about the sheer physics of hopping from place to place. Thankfully, I would not be doing my party hopping alone, for my Dear Old Friend Patrick (DOFP) was in town for the weekend and, as all good gay boyfriends should, promised to be my date for the night.



The night started out a little slowly and clunkily, with dinner at La Fonda and then a quick backtrack home to fetch my forgotten cell phone. DOFP and I then made our first stop of the evening at Rachael's slightly hush-hush apartment party. There was some awful energy drink/beer called SPARKS that had me crying for a PBR, dear god, please! There was also a kid I went to high school with and hadn't seen in a good five years, but who I knew hung out with various Rachaelites. It was great talking to him and hearing about who was finally out of the closet (and who should probably go back into the closet and never show their face again), reminiscing about hanging out at each other's houses, and trying to remember just how many people were on that bed (yeah, I've been bad from the start...) He even asked if my dad "still had that old blue van" (aka the aforementioned Blue Bomber). Good times, good times.



Since Rachael didn't have a tv on at her house, we all sort of guessed when midnight occurred by the times on our various cell phones. I didn't kiss anyone or spill champagne down my dress (or scream, "I can name everyone in this motherfucker!"), which officially made NYE 2006/2007 the tamest one yet. DOFP and I then headed for MJQ to partake of the 12:01AM pouring of alcohol (Georgia still has blue laws that don't let "bars"--establishments that don't serve food-- pour on Sunday, so legal pouring couldn't begin until after the first stroke of midnight). We danced, we got hit in the head with blow-up beach toys, I ran into another long-lost classmate in line for the ladies' room, and I had an amusing moment with a very short man and my whistle, which if you ever want to hear about I'll be happy to tell you in person. (It's a story that doesn't work well without the visual element.) Clubbed out, we headed for the After After Party at the house in VA-Highlands that will forever be "Marilyn's House" to me.



The After After Party was the best party of the night, and within seconds of ascending the front steps I saw several faces I hadn't seen since NYE 2005/2006. DOFP even ran into a girl he went to elementary school with, thus cementing our night as "casetheplace & DOFP's Awesome Timewarp Adventure." We partied until about 5AM, when just about everyone I knew hit the wall of tiredness and we all made our yawny ways home.



Stopping my consumption of alcohol early in the evening at 1:45 and drinking nothing but water after that was the secret to my headache-free day today. I was tired, yes, but functioning. DOFP and I did some shopping, had dinner, and chilled.


Tomorrow I go to work and DOFP drives back to Statesboro. And Gerald R. Ford gets buried, and so 2007 begins.

###