Things That Annoy Me

I haven't really done a "Things that Annoy Me" blog lately (nor a "Psychotic Thought of the Day" blog on that note), but yesterday I had something that definitely was annoyance worthy. I was on my way to Zumba (yes, I've drunk the Zumba kool-aid) and decided to stop off at the community compost bin down the block from me to dump off my compostables. After dumping my stuff, I realized I had composty juices on my hand. As I was driving, I realized I had hand sanitizer in the middle console. I got it out. Flicked open the top and hand sanitizer exploded all over my face (including in my eye)...keep in mind that I am still driving. I stop at a red light and read the warning (with the eye that is not stinging like a mo fo). "In the event of contact with the eyes, flush immediately with water and seek medical advice." Shit! So (while still driving...probably not the smartest move), I flush my eye with water from the water bottle that I was taking to Zumba, do not seek medical attention, and still making to Zumba on time. I guess everything's ok since I woke up this morning and wasn't blind.

Reunion Ridiculousness

I can't sleep because Jimmy Clausen (who according to Danielle looks like a fat Nick Carter...though I would argue Nick Carter is pretty fat) just saved Charlie Weis's fat ass one more time in the closing seconds of the game and my adrenaline is still chugging away. (sidenote: I originally just said Weis's ass and went back and added the word "fat" during editing which I think is a nice change.) I thought rather than waste this time..oh...i don't know...reading a book or something, that I'd blog. Because we all know that the very best blogs can be written at 12:15 AM.

Today I opened my mailbox and found....::drumroll::...an invitation to my 10 year high school reunion. (Oh the humanity!) I thought I'd just comment on the ridiculousness of several part of it. Remember these are only my very favorite excerpts.

1) It was sealed with a gold sticker with hearts on it (like you would use to seal wedding invitations). Really? You couldn't find anything better than this?

2) "$40 at the door. (Price includes heavy horderves, 2 drink tickets & entertainment provided by EVERY DAY HEROES" ---holy crap, $40 bucks. It better be heavy hors d'oeuvres. It's at the Appalachian Brewing Company, so it's not even like it's at a hotel and we're paying a crapload for the room. And "horderves" really looked correct to you? Didn't notice anything bizarre about that spelling? That really speaks volumes about Middletown's Education system, doesn't it?

3) "Please no hats or sneakers." --does this really need to be said? Man, I come from one classy hometown.

4) In giant letters at the bottom "We're Going To Party Like It's 1999." --Thank you Prince, for creating that song so that we could cling to it like a remora to a shark. This song will follow me around FOREVER and to think, I actually used to like that song.

Anyway, I'm still debating whether to go or not. Like there's no one I really want to see that I don't already talk to, but I have been doing pretty awesome since high school, so I kinda want to go rub that in people's faces. Is that wrong?

Do you Know How to Peel a Banana?

Today in between classes someone was eating a banana and someone else informed them that they were peeling it wrong. He referred us to this YouTube clip:


I have multiple favorite parts of this: a) when he says it "blew his mind", b) when he tries to bite the banana open and c) the fact that he has monkey pants on.

Henna Really Isn't As Cool As I Thought

Today at B school was the "International Food Fest." Each "team" (each academic team has 5-6 students in it and you basically do a bunch of stuff together with them) had to prepare a dish from a foreign country. There's a guy names Xavier on my team who is from Belgium originally so we made Carbonade a la Flamande (aka A Flemish Beef Stew). It was basically beef, carrots, onions, bread, dijon mustard and a crap load of dark beer. (That's an official culinary term: "crap load" which is a little smaller than an "ass load") There was a ton of food. Pad Thai, quiches, chicken curry, spanikopita, and a bunch of other stuff that I don't even know the name of. My stomach just took a trip around the world. Some people also had different activities from around the world. A couple of students from India were doing Henna tattooing. I always wanted to get Henna, and when I was walking by there was no line so I sat down. This is my Henna:

Henna is not as cool as I thought it was for three main reasons. 1) It's a lot oranger than I thought it's be. 2) I thought that like they painted it on and you waited like 15 minutes or something and washed it off. No...you have to wait like an hour until it gets dry and just cracks and falls off. Do you know how hard it is not to bump intricate painting on your right arm? Also, do you know how hard it is to take a clear picture of your right arm when you're right handed? 3) It's supposed to stay on for like a week or something, but I just took a shower and it already faded significantly, so we'll see. So, I'm not sure if I'd do it again or not. It didn't totally suck. It just wasn't all that I thought it'd be.

A Letters from Prison Excerpt

I received another letter from the big house (no not Michigan)...though on that note isn't it kinda fitting that "big house" is the name of both Michigan's stadium and prison...hmmm...I digress. Anyway, the whole letter wasn't that interesting, but a few lines really pretty much summed up her whole issue.

"I wish I didn't have to work hard and everything could just be handed to me for the rest of my life but I know that's not the case and I'm gonna have to work extra hard when I came home to do otherwise. I can't be lazy any more I won't get anyway in life!!"

Wow....wow... (yes, she actually did say "anyway in life" not "anywhere in life") Do we think she actually understands the hard work thing? I mean its easy to say when you're sitting in a jail cell with nothing to do but read all day, but then when you actually have to work, it's a whole different ball game.

Like a Band Aid...Right Off!

There are certain things in life that should be done in one quick, painful motion: removing a band aid, giving bad news, taking duct tape off of a hostage's mouth (not that I have any formal training on this...just what I've seen on TV), and body waxing.

After moving one of the most difficult things I've had to do is find a new esthetician to get my eyebrows waxed. I've had some bad experiences. No real eyebrow butchery. Just not really done up to my expectations (if it takes less than 5 minutes...you didn't do a good job). So Friday, I crossed my fingers and went to get my eyebrows waxed. She did a decent job except instead of just forcefully ripping off the strips of wax, she like slowly (and agonizingly) peeled it off. Now I have this dilemma. Do I try someone new and risk having horrible eyebrows for a week or so? Or do I go back and grit my teeth for a few minutes of pain?

And the Maintenance Guy Went Crazy

I had this huge bush out by my front door that was approximately 12 feet in diameter (with a standard deviation of about a foot and a half...sorry quant is seeping into my everyday life . Never read Super Crunchers). It was a big f***ing bush. It hung over the flower bed onto my patio. I came home two days ago and found this.

Apparently the apartment maintenance guy went completely ape shit on it.

The Care Package

I found one other thing that differs between undergrad and grad school. Care packages. When I was at ND, my mom sent great care packages. They had things like food and hot chocolate and stuffed animals and stickers and other fun things in it. I got a huge box on my doorstep with my mom's handwriting on the front. I was super psyched. I opened it up and inside was a suit, a photo album and coupons...no note, no card, no explanation what so ever. She's so weird.

It's Different

So I decided after a week and a half of classes that I would blog about some of the differences between my undergrad and B-school experiences. Now granted these are only my very narrow assessments from four years at Notre Dame and a week and a half at Wake Forest, but I'm pretty sure they're relatively accurate and will carry over to others.

1) Dress code: Wake has a business casual dress code for all its MBA students. Which means I have to like iron stuff and do laundry on a regular basis. Gone are the days of wearing pajamas, sweats or wind pants to class (my freshman year roommate, Maryn wouldn't know what to do with herself).

2) Beer: There is probably still as much beer around as there was when I was in undergrad it's just better quality. No more Natty Lite. Yuengling, Coors, Sam Adams seem to be staples.

3) Stealing: Stealing seems to be more frowned upon. Back at ND we were really into stealing things (from campus of course...sticking it to the man...we paid for it right). At one time or another we stole an entire dining hall set including tray, sugar dispenser and salt and pepper shakers. My parents also still have a section 13 sign from the JACC. (It's in their basement...check it out if you're ever over). We also found it humorous when someone stole the giant inflatable gorilla from Farley and the picture of Edward J. ("Jomama") Debartolo from Debartolo hall. In grad school...I haven't really tested this out...but I'm thinking that if I stole the giant Deacon from the student lounge that I'd kinda be in trouble.

4) The ratio: I'm not sure what the ratio exactly was at ND, but I'm thinking it was about 50/50. My first year MBA class has 68 students in it and 12 of them are girls...not that I'm complaining. (I get to talk about football a lot).

5) The whole married/kids thing. I have friends that are married and have kids, but it's still weird to me when someone has to leave the team meeting because they have to take their kid to the dentist...I'm just not used to the family thing in a school setting.

6) Going to class. You have to go to class. If you miss, not only do you have to e-mail the professor, but you have to e-mail the MBA relations person...weird. I can't tell you the number of times I didn't go to Genetics at ND.

7) Calling professors by their first name. It's just awkward calling them Jon or Sherry or whatever.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I think I had something else to write, but it's gone now...maybe later.