Note to self: Less freaking out about graduation, etc. More having fun.

Self: Right-o, boss man.

Things that are good for the soul
1. Krispy Kream donuts
2. Thanksgiving leftovers (raspberry jello + apple sauce = heaven)
3. Tromping about 40 acres of woods in the middle-of-no-where Wisconsin

Just a shell of her former self
Big Mama feels hollow, violated. Both of her rear seats have been removed and are sitting together in the cold, cold garage. She is lonely. She has been temporarily converted into a cargo minvan. So next time you see her, be sure to tell her that you still think she's beautiful, that she doesn't need to have passenger seats to be a real minivan, that you love her anyway.

A Perilous Journey
Tomorrow I venture to a land of beer and sausage, a land of plentiful dairy products, a land called Wisconsin. Wish me luck, dear reader. I'm going to Orfordville, and I'm not entirely sure where that is. I bet even readers from Wisconsin don't know where that is. In fact, my friend who lives in Orfordville couldn't tell me how to get there. Let's hope Big Mama can lead the way.

Turkey Day Tidbits
Before dinner I was talking about gambling. My great aunt loves the slot machines. She wants me to take her to Green Bay to go gambling now. I told her about the chicken tic-tac-toe game that they have at Boonville. Then my mother told us that there's something kind of like that right here in Boone County. Except it involves a large field and betting on what square the cow will "mark." Oh, Belvidere, you're so classy.

When my Aunt Jane (the one who said she would stock 3435 Lowe with consumables for me and Jules when we stayed there over spring break sophomore year and later asked if we were both carnivorous) arrived she said I looked much more relaxed than the last time I saw her. What does that mean?

After dinner "the girls" in the family went for a walk around Kmart to make room for pie, lots of pie. While we were there, I saw my best friend from elementary school. Her daughter is 5 or 6 now. This made me feel really old

Words of Wisdom from Aunt Mike
My great aunt is 89 years old. She's also, well, out of control. You just have to meet her to understand. This should give you an idea of what the Aunt Mike experience is like.

"I don't like that DJ on channel 46. He's nasty. He does all sorts of (whispers) sexy programs."

"Now you behave when you go back to school. And try to find a nice boyfriend."
(She usually asks when I'm getting married.)

Determine my future
Or at least the future of my hair. Should I get my hair cut before graduation or should I let it grow out until after I get back from Ireland? My hair hasn't been past my shoulders since I was a sophomore in high school. Let me know what you think.

Work accomplished in the past 2 days:
-1 book read
-4 pages of a 4-page book review written
-3 pages of a story revision written
-1 cover letter written
Ways I've procrastinated in the past 2 days:
-curled up in bed and read a book I've been meaning to read since 6th grade
-watched General Hospital while making a pumpkin pie
-watched a two-hour Paul McCartney concert film with my mom (Note to Paul: Next time more music, less chit chat.)
Number of times I've left the house in the past 2 days: 0 (not because of the snow, but because I really haven't had a reason to)
Work left to do:
-finish revising two stories
-do research for women and the media presentation
-write detailed summary/bibliography item for said presentation
-apply for three jobs

Gah, this is depressing. And I haven't even mentioned the number of conversations I've had with my parents that basically consisted of them telling me what I should really do with my life. Perhaps turkey and pumpkin pie will help boost my spirits. Sigh.

I just spent way too much time trying to get this comment item working. Ah, the joys of being on vacation and not wanting to do work.

Dr. Phil and the Junior League
Two unrelated moments from my day:

This afternoon I was sitting in the waiting room at Rockford Clinic. Dr. Phil was on. The show's topic was "Flirts, bitches and women who hate women." At one point Dr. Phil said, "Let your inner puppy out to pee on the carpet." If this doesn't make David Letterman's "Dr. Phil's Words of Wisdom," I don't know what will.

Tonight I was looking at a Belvidere Junior Women's Club cookbook. I was in search of the crust recipe I use when I make pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving every year. In the process I found a recipe for Daquiri pie. The recipe calls for lemon pudding, lime jello, cool whip, a graham cracker crust and a half cup of RUM. And, no it doesn't cook off. There just seems to be something inherently wrong with a dish that involves rum and a graham cracker crust. Makes you wonder what REALLY went on at those junior league meetings.

Illinois: the state that really knows how to make a girl feel welcome
As anyone who has ever driven on I-39 knows, the drive from Columbia to the greater Belvidere area is not fun. One struggles not to drive into a ditch out of sheer boredom. Here are several things that made it even worse today.
1. Shortly after getting on I-55 north, I was almost sideswiped by a semi, causing me to swerve onto the shoulder to avoid any injury to Big Mama.
2. At a McDonald's in Springfield, I managed to spill Coke all over myself and my food.
3. Just outside of Bloomington, it started to wintery mix, just enough to make that annoying pinging noise without really being visible.
4. Somewhere south of Rockford, this wintery mix turned into snow.

Snippets from the last football game of my college career (a.k.a Why you gotta break by heart like that, Tigers?)
"So I was reading Glamour the other day, and did you know that a guy burns 8 calories when he unhooks a girl's bra with one hand?"
-creepy man in front of us who kept talking to us and asking things like "So what are you girls doing after the game?"
(Note: This man is from Omaha. I think this says something about the city.)

"Is that for an hour of doing it or just the once?"
-creepy man's friend

(Question: Does this mean I burn 8 calories every time I unhook my own bra?)

"My legs look quite dwarfish. I have leglets."
-Jules

"I also have claws. Rar."
-Jules

I'm officially old
It's 9:47. When I finish this blog entry I'm planning on going to bed. Vox Squared kicked my butt. And I've spent the past two nights packing. It's really tiring to go through all of your belongings and ask yourself, "Am I really going to need this in the next month? Should I just take it home now?" I need a nap.

Hot off the presses
Last night I got to see the press run for Vox. It was amazing. You've never really seen film fare until you've seen it burned into sheet metal. I'm pretty sure the pressmen were putting on a bit of a show; they don't usually have an audience of eight women. It was kind of like this mechanical ballet. And then everything started running and whirring and clanging, and you could see the cover emerge one color at a time. Once they got all the color just right, one of the pressmen handed us a big stack of Voxes. The ink was still wet, so the edges of the paper curled as the ink dried while we flipped through them. It was just so exciting to see something we'd struggled with for so long come together and look really good. I don't know. The experience just made me feel really good about what I want to do with my life. I'll stop ranting now.

Magical Powers
This morning I decided I have the power to conjure people out of thin air. I was walking back to the parking garage from my English class in A&S. I passed a kid who was in my poli sci class a year and a half ago. I don't remember his name, but I thought to myself, "Self, you sure do see kids from that class all the time. Just the other day at Brady you saw the kid who played Russian rap music during your entire presentation. And the girl who thought it would be a good idea to serve borscht to the entire class, you see her all the time at the Missourian. But you never see that other kid from your group, the one with the goatee. Yeah, maybe he graduated. Yeah, maybe that's it, Self." Then just moments later as I was walking through Peace Park, I passed that very boy. He still has a goatee. Perhaps I should use this power for good. I don't know quite what that would entail, but it seems like a good idea. Perhaps I just need more sleep.

Status of Vox Squared: 2 days down, 2 to go
Hours spent in the Vox office today: 8.5
Hours spent in Lee Hills Hall today: 11.5
Vox stories I read that made me nostaligic about concerts I didn't go to myself: 1

Because glamour is spelled AARP
Celebrate! Dave Alexander has started a blog! I've already gotten mentioned on it, and I seem to be getting credit for its creation. I must possess fabulous powers of persuasion or mind control. Perhaps not. But the existance of a Dave Alexander blog makes me very happy. Also, I now know a total of 4 people who work or have worked for the AARP. My cousin works for the soon-to-be-defunct My Generation. It is being combined with the AARP's other magazine, Modern Maturity, to create the ultimate magazine for retired folk -- AARP: The Magazine. If that just doesn't ooze glamour, I don't know what does.

You know you've given up on your creative writing assignment when you writing the following paragraph:

Donna took the pills, but she wasn’t quite sure if she would use them. Slipping your cat
sedatives was about as glamourous as athletes taking steroids. But then again, maybe these pills
where the equivalent of heroin sheik in the cat world.

And so begins the Week that Drained Anne's Will to Live (a.k.a. Vox Squared) ...

Reasons Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets is just like Bridget Jones's Diary
1. Moaning Myrtle is Jude. She even spends her time crying in the bathroom, just not about Vile Richard.
2. Madam Poppy Pomfrey is Bridget's mum
3. In one of the previews, Colin Firth dances about in leather pants. Not quite the Pemberley Pants, but enjoyable none the less.

Footnote
Rob Coons should NOT see this movie. It has spiders in part of it. Giant spiders.

Random musings from The Blue Note
- The Blue Note is even creepier when you are by yourself. Without a protective bubble of friends I was even more aware of all the creepy men over the age of 35 standing alone, wearing leather jackets, clutching their beers and staring freely at all the girls around them. One of them even tried to start a conversation with me. Eww. I would say the atmosphere was even creepier than Y107 night. If you think I'm just being paranoid, you obviously don't know my previous track record with creepy old guys and definitely haven't heard the story of the Scary Laundromat Man (circa summer 2001). If you haven't heard the story, ask me to tell you about it sometime. It's a good story.

-The Blue Note got significantly less creepy after my friends showed up halfway through the opening act.

-I saw Jonah* "I'm so progressive I'm a women's studies major and I'm moving to Nice. Have you heard of Nice? It's in France." McIntire. He was wearing overalls. Apparently Nice wasn't progressive enough for him so he moved back to mid-Missouri.

-I saw a woman drinkng a bottle of Bud out of a koozie. She brought her own koozie to the concert. Now that's class.

-I saw a woman wearing the exact same purple sweater as I was. Talk about a fashion faux pas. Luckily, The Blue Note was crowded, otherwise this could have been very embarrassing.

-Hilary Scott was the opening act. She was also the opening act when I saw Jonatha Brooke at The Blue Note last semester. She hasn't gotten any better.

-It was funny when Beth Orton called part of the crowd wankers for being noisy and rude. She's so British and dirty.

-Times I've seen Beth Orton in concert: 2
-Times I've seen Beth Orton in concert for free: 2

*English 208 is a prerequisite for this joke.

This town can be lonely when everyone decides to leave the state on the same weekend. At least it feels that way. Hey, it's not Thanksgiving break yet, people (even though I wish it was). So this is going to be a weekend of catching up on my sleep (perhaps that will help make me healthy again) and being "productive." We'll see if that actually happens. Probably not as I'm about to leave for a birthday party, and I have plans to everyone's favorite kid magician with the William Street gang.

All tied up
So far disease hasn't won, but my immune system isn't performing so well either. I'm not getting worse, but I'm not getting better. Come on, immune system, I thought you were supposed to be some sort of overachiever. Maybe if you weren't so busy attacking my thyroid, you could actually do your job and get rid of this virus or whatever it is.

Under Construction
Let's celebrate. They finally repainted the lines on Broadway between Providence and Garth. Maybe they thought it would keep us from noticing all the construction they've managed to squeeze into those couple of blocks. You're tricky, Columbia, but not quite tricky enough.

Reasons I cannot get sick
1. I have a paper due tomorrow (that I haven't started), a test Wednesday and I'm AME (associate managing editor for all you non-Voxers out there) this week
2. My roommate's already been sick, and I think that should fill the illness quota for this apartment
3. We have to put out two issues of Vox next week, which means four fun-filled nights of production instead of just two
4. I've been drinking plenty of fluids and taking zinc tablets for the past 24 hours

Signs my body doesn't listen to logic
1. Scratchy throat
2. Stuffy nose
3. A variety of achy muscles

Grr.

Neon lights and lots of turquoise
Unlike Paul, I should not major in gambling. After spending $10 on the slot machines, I was ahead by $2, so I decided to just spend the rest of it. Not the best money-making strategy in the world. I also did not get my chance to lose a game of tic-tac-toe to a chicken. Apparently, the chicken has a bedtime. But I still had a fabulous time. It was well worth the $10, and the Pepsi was free.

Oh, the woes of being a magazine major
I need to get back to reading Glamour magazine now. It's homework. Really. I also have to read Cosmopolitan and O: The Oprah Magazine. All in the next 24 hours. By the time I'm done I should know how to have insanely good sex (+753 more how-tos I can use!), how to read his mind in bed, how to read his dirty mind (the naughty wishes all men have), 40 sex secrets of women who are great in the sack, what his favorite mattress move reveals about his feelings for me (it's a sexpose!), how to organize a relationship, keep my sanity at Christmas, make my heart strong, change my life and buy the best hostess gifts. I might never be the same. I might need therapy.

Vox the Enabler
I returned to Vox this morning to find a gift in my mailbox. Not just any gift. Vin Diesel XXXposed, a Pocket Books Trade Paperback Original. No, it's not porn. It's one of those fabulously trashy books that are basically Bop magazine in book form. There are lots of pictures and shocking revelations such as, "Vin Diesel is huge." Apparently the book arrived for Marijane, our book editor, and everyone thought I should have it. You write one article about falling in love with Vin Diesel, and you get a reputation. But don't worry, kids. I don't have a problem. I swear. I can kick this habit all on my own. Really. Right after I add a few of these pictures to the "man wall" in our kitchen.

Trains, Planes and Automobiles
In the past 72 hours I have ridden in 2 shuttles, 2 airplanes, 2 city buses, 4 subway cars and walked numerous blocks. This makes me tired.

I have decided that this trip to New York was my first official business trip. I flew in, spent the next day inside a convention center wearing business attire and talking about my career aspirations with total strangers. The next day I flew home. This makes me feel old.

Things I Learned at HOT Magazine JOBS: The Premier Job Fair
1. The people who work for Martha Stewart are bitchy.
2. Playboy covers are frightening when blown up into posters taller than me.
3. All those tabloids are published by the same company, and someone let them into the job fair.
4. There is a company devoted entirely to publishing magazines about building remote-control airplanes. They have multiple titles.

Things that made this trip worthwhile
-organic neoploitan pizza (yum, fresh mozzarella)
-watching and mocking the WB and the Bachelor with my jet-lagged cousin
-the sale rack at Anthropologie
-eating at a cute dinner next to the tram to Roosevelt Island

Let's have a collective moment of panic
At this time tomorrow I will be on my way to New York City to go to a JOB fair. Gah! How does real life manage to sneak up on me like this?

My Contribution to the Vox Ultimate Burned CD or Those Micks Sure Know How to Write that Rock Music
"Hey, I can't say that I love you. I can't say that I don't.
I can't say that I couldn't, and I won't say that I won't.
But I really like your company and enjoy me-self no end,
But I can't keep from thinking,
Why don't we share the darkness tonight?"
-The Saw Doctors, "Share the Darkness"

At the Moment
I have dish pan hands. No one will ever marry me.

Life Lessons
-Wine and snobby food taste better when the j-school (or the Knight-Ridder Foundation) foots the bill.
-Bearded men named Carl can bring the Big Mama back to life with a magic yellow box, but it's still not good to leave your lights on.

Shameless Plug
If you want to give me a job or read about a Yankees' game I went to once, you should go here