Archive for April, 2009

Despite the Rainpocalypse, THE TRUTH WILL PREVAIL

When the weather is this bad, I tend to blame it for absolutely everything wrong with my life, including my inability to access my blog from my lap top. Usually that alone would be enough to trigger my intense paranoia, but it seems to only happen on Tuesday and Friday mornings when I want to update my blog. It says WITHOUT FAIL in the top right hand corner there. I can’t ignore those capital letters. So for the second time this week I have dutifully walked down to the Wiess computer lab to work on it there, which seems to annoy the people around me who have actual work to finish. Also, me, because I like to write in my pajamas. Friday, I grudgingly got dressed before warning you about the dangers of Rachel Liontas, but today I’ve given up. Steven Wiggins, itinerant webmaster, at first told me I was crazy. Then, when Roque also complained that he could not see my blog, he decided to investigate, and then decided to blame WordPress or some server or something. He says it will be okay by the end of this week, but I think it is some conspiracy perpetuated by Brian Reinhart. He seemed pretty upset when I saw him last Friday.

Ostensibly, he dropped by on a “I’m never going to see you again because I’m going home tomorrow” visit (the VERY day the Rainpocalypse began–a little TOO convenient). Along with his sadness, however, he brought along two reusable Target bags full of newspapers, claiming that I could take them to IKEA and exchange them for food.

Brian Reinhart: I view IKEA as the greatest triumph of modern capitalism.

Only later did I find out this was A LIE. You CANNOT exchange newspaper for food at IKEA and now there’s a 20-inch stack of newspapers in my room I don’t know what to do with. I can only make so many funny hats, Brian. I would just recycle them to make Jeremy Caves happy (my goal in life) and think nothing of it, except for Brian’s OTHER comments on that fateful Friday.

Brian Reinhart: I saw your blog. (dramatic pause) You think it’s over because there’s no Thresher this week. But you just wait. You forgot the GRADUATE EDITION.
Me: I have no idea what that is.
Brian Reinhart: OH, YOU’LL SEE! (maniacal laughter)

I don’t know if he realizes that, after every “last” issue of The Thresher, I WILL STILL HAVE A BLOG. You can’t turn off the Internet, Brian.

And just when I was about to shout that at him I realized: that’s what he’s been doing. It’s not the server or WordPress or the other things Steven Wiggins has claimed so it looks like he knows what he’s doing; it’s BRIAN REINHART trying to STIFLE THE TRUTH. AND CAPITAL LETTERS. As Bo will tell you from his career as a Wiess President who often says things he regrets at Cabinet, I firmly believe that The People Have a Right To Know, but mostly just Nobody Tells Me What To Do. And that includes you, Mr. Calendar Page. Bring it.

In other news, despite Brian’s Rainpocalypse, we managed to complete another List item #88 this weekend by, not only going to see Molly and the Ringwalds at the Continental Club, but singing on stage with them:

As you can see by the dancing drunk girl, it was a wild success

As you can see by the dancing drunk girl, it was a wild success

We got made fun of a lot (by the band) for being “babies” and, in the case of Rachel and Bova, for forming a “Tall Girl Club” that the lead singer could not join. Still, we prevailed. Livin’ On a Prayer was never shrieked into a microphone so well. (I am noticably absent from this THE 434 picture because Patricia Ladd does not sing in public ever since a traumatic incident in the sixth grade.)

Things That Spell Our Doom–2

1. Rachel Liontas

Harmless Gullible Freshman... OR IDENTITY THIEF???

Harmless Gullible Freshman... OR IDENTITY THIEF???

She looks a little TOO happy considering we convinced her to buy most of the Wiess Garage Sale. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I love Rachel Liontas. If there was some kind of bracket system to determine The Best Freshman, she would totally be in my Final Four (now that I think about it, why DON’T we pit the freshmen against each other in a dramatic, death-defying battle for the seniors’ love? Or is that the Freshmen One Acts?). At the wildly successful Wiess Garage Sale, Rachel made off with the following from THE 434’s stash of amazingness: a coconut cup, kickball, Mystery Date Game, pirate hat, Rubix Cube, shiny pink 80s dress, hot pink toga, cowboy hat, Christmas lights, and red star sunglasses. This list is a little too calculated to be just random, impulse buying. Clearly she is amassing all of our definitive possessions in a wild bid to become THE 434 after we have gone. DO NOT BE FOOLED. Just because it is pink and sparkly does NOT mean that it is necessarily Bova!
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Misguided Travel Guide: Humble, Texas

After four years at Rice even the most reclusive among us tend to pick up at least a little bit of knowledge about Houston, such as where the closest Whataburger is and what animals have lately been caught in precarious yet adorable situations thanks to the H-Chron’s hard-hitting reporting. However, when it comes to Houston’s surroundings, I’m guessing most of you only know where to find the airport, pretty much the only reason normal people visit Humble, Texas. As an un-normal person whose fiance happens to live there, I can fill you in on what you’ve been missing.

1. Its Wikipedia Page

My favorite fact about Humble is definitely that its Wikipedia Page features this picture prominently:

You Know Your Town Is Classy when the Highway Exit to get to it is a "Point of Interest"

You Know Your Town Is Classy when the Highway Exit to get to it is a "Point of Interest"

2. The Dump

Now with ravenous bands of seagulls!

Now with ravenous bands of seagulls!

Little known fact: all of Rice’s trash ends up here in the Atascocita Landfill! If you ever want to revisit that old 80s costume you couldn’t bear to look at anymore or the Bio homework you threw out after you dropped being a premed and started having a life, Humble is the place to go! This is by far the biggest and most important aspect of Humble. Apart from the airport, natch.

3. It’s Pronounced without the “H”

The first time I heard about Humble was on my second date with Steven Wiggins (the first being Screw Date), during which a drunk man at a bowling alley told us that his girlfriend was also from there, and that she often beat him for pronouncing the “H”.

Drunk Man: Man, how am I supposed to know you don’t say the H, man? It has an H! What are we, man, French or something?
Steven: Lots of people make that mistake. It’s no big deal.
Drunk Man: (big, scared eyes) My girlfriend once kicked me right in the balls for saying the H. (to me, loudly) DON’T SAY THE H! WHATEVER YOU DO!
Me: Okay.
Drunk Man: Okay. (pause) Do you want to be on my bowling league?

Naturally, this made a lasting impression.

4. “The Fast Food Capital of Texas”

Steven’s particular suburb of Humble, Atascocita, touts itself on its own website as being “The Fast Food Capital of Texas”, an impressive claim, which they back up with the admittedly solid evidence of this logo collage:

Hey, at least they're proud

Hey, at least they're proud

MS Paint: clearly the best way to prove any point. I’m not sure if this claim is legitimately true, but they do have at least six Sonics within a ten minute radius of Steven’s house. He already google Earthed our apartment in Chapel Hill next year and discovered the nearest Sonic is thirty minutes away. He has thus deemed Chapel Hill a “thirsty wasteland”.

5. The Park That Claims to have Buffalo

When I first went to this park, on the shores of murky Lake Houston, I kept seeing these signs for buffalo but was unable to locate them:

Granted, it's a confusing sign. Is it a buffalo or Jeremy Caves?

Granted, it's a confusing sign. Is it a buffalo or Jeremy Caves?

I guess I was envisioning herds of mighty bison having free run of the park, crashing children’s birthday parties and smashing the pinatas beneath their hooves. In reality this is not a “Caution: Buffalo” sign but a “This way, down a road that looks closed you can see some clearly malnourished and miniature buffalo” sign. I guess I just didn’t realize that the drawing on the sign is actually to scale. In conclusion: Buffalo at Humble’s parks=mad anti-climactic.

The List #32: Tie Everyone Together

The List #32: Tie Everyone Together
Status: Completed!

In this case "everyone" is THE 434. AS IN EVERY CASE.

In this case "everyone" is THE 434. AS IN EVERY CASE.

We’d like to thank Dirty Sparkly College Night, jump rope class (for the rope), and Roque for making this possible.

Last Last Day of Classes!

Actually, this title is not true in any way, since I’m pretty sure library science grad school also has a last day of classes, and BOTH of my seminars have decided to postpone our last class/presentations till Monday for some reason. Yes, I have six hours of class the Monday after classes are supposed to be over. I was okay with this earlier in the semester when my only thoughts were “That means I can postpone procrastinating on that project for another week! Holla!” but now I am less thrilled, mostly because yesterday I had to sit next to nostalgic people going “LAST LAST DAY OF COLLEGE EVER!” while muttering bitterly under my breath about anorexic teenage girls or whatever I’m supposed to be writing about.

Other things of note:
While this weekend is going to mark a flurry of List Completion, as of yesterday we have failed at completing #93 Get Professor Gorry to Throw His iPhone (at us?). I admit, it was a long shot even putting it on the list; he really seems to love it, no matter how irritating we’re being. Sad times.

HOEDOWN THROWDOWN SHOWDOWN. I’m sure I’ll be posting pictures later today or tomorrow of our epic win re: The Hoedown Throwdown Showdown. As stated previously, I thought only Bova and I would show up, but apparently a lot of freshmen have been practicing and Alex Mainor told me at pub Wednesday that “the Hoedown Throwdown has become my religion”. Then he filled any silence afterward with “Boom Clap. Boom de clap de clap…” Inspiring. Julia even told me that she stopped working on her senior thesis to practice it, which is the dedication we need to wipe that self-satisfied smirk off of Miley Cyrus’ face and/or become her BFF. I’m not really sure which is the goal here.

Sorry for the short and disjointedness–I have to go get ready for Dirty Sparkly College Night! This includes putting all of the jewelry that I own on at one time and not wearing shoes. See you at the Hoedown Throwdown!

The Hoedown Throwdown Showdown

So this weekend I was convinced by THE 434 (plus Rob, but I think that’s understood) that my only real goal in life until that moment was to see The Hannah Montana Movie with them. Instead of the predictable, trite mess I was expecting, it was fairly entertaining, mostly because people kept randomly falling down (hilarious!) and many of the bemusing subplots weren’t explained at all, such as the scenes when her older brother is inexplicably working as a zookeeper/alligator wrestler. But, as one of my requirements of movies is that someone be attacked by an ostrich, this made me happy.

As you can glean from the previews, the plot involves Miley Cyrus returning to her grandmother’s house in small town Tennessee to reconnect with her roots, find a hot guy, and rediscover who she truly is inside. Rob kept turning to me and asking, “Is that what Tennessee REALLY looks like?” and I would say “Yes, actually, that’s EXACTLY what Tennessee looks like” in a startled way, because I visited my grandparents every summer as a child in Columbia, Tennessee, which claims to be the Mule Capital of the World. It was only later that I discovered that Miley Cyrus’ fictional small town looked eerily accurate because IT WAS FILMED IN COLUMBIA, TENNESSEE:

The most exciting thing to come out of Columbia since James K. Polk

The most exciting thing to come out of Columbia since James K. Polk

Naturally I began to suspect that I am, in fact, Hannah Montana in disguise.
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Edgar Odell Lovett: Probably a Ninja; Now with Evidence!

Little known fact: I am an expert at Rice University history. Not only does John Boles recognize me on sight (as someone he should nod to; it’s unclear whether he knows my name) but I once wrote a totally historically accurate, based on a true story, completely not made up  play about William Marsh Rice’s buried gold, which some freshmen then grudgingly performed. Also, I may have been peripherally involved in the True History of William Marsh Rice Campaign that The Man and Wikipedia clearly don’t want you to know about. Therefore, having listed my impressive credentials, I think we can all agree that I mean serious business when it comes to Rice history.

So I expect you to take me totally seriously when I claim that it has become clear in recent weeks that Edgar Odell Lovett was actually a ninja.

Unlike some of my seemingly wild claims that then have turned out to be eerily accurate (re: Jason Hawley has embezzled all of Wiess’ money to diamond-encrust his lap top, the Servery will one day have cheesesticks etc.) I have some actual, photographic evidence for this, and it is as follows:

As modeled by me in the Woodson Research Center Basement/Ninja Training Room

As modeled by me in the Woodson Research Center Basement/Ninja Training Room

Basically, it’s a really long bamboo pole.  At least ten or fifteen feet. Supposedly it was used for pole vaulting back in the very beginning of Rice Institute and then Lovett’s son used it as a banister in his house for awhile. I mean, we’ve all been there. At a track and field meet, when you see the pole vaulting poles lying on the ground and suddenly think: “You know what that would make? One sweet banister!”

OR he was actually trying to disguise the bamboo pole, to cover the evidence that Edgar Odell Lovett had actually used it daily in his secret career as a ninja. Everyone knows he went to Japan on his world tour of universities before starting Rice! But was it really to meet the Japanese Minister of Education… OR TO TRAIN AS A HIGHLY SKILLED ASSASSIN???

Don’t believe me? To quote an anonymous archivist within the Woodson Research Center: “Edgar Odell Lovett was definitely a ninja. But don’t quote me on that.” What more evidence do you need?

The List Doubleheader: #74 Get a Human Leash and #78 Abuse the List Serv

I cannot explain why some things are on The List of things we have to do before graduating. Don’t get me wrong, I totally see the merit in things like #32 Tie Everyone Together or #72 At One Dinner Pretend We’re All Pregnant. Even #78 Abuse the List Serv makes complete sense and sounds like a good time. But I have no idea about #74 Get a Human Leash. I don’t know if anyone in THE 434 remembers why it got written down; all we know is, when it’s on The List it must be completed. Case in point: I spent three of my dollars and a million of my Coolness Points on #51 Get Sippy Cups to Drink Out of (in the Servery). But it had to be done, and I did it gladly. Besides, as Patricia Ladd, I had an excess of Coolness Points anyway. It was making everyone else feel bad about themselves.

Anyway, to tackle the Human Leash problem we decided to combine list items. If we sent out a “Lost Item” message to the List Serv about our lost human leash, then maybe someone would find one and give it to us. Stellar logic, I know. So we composed this email:
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