The Plaid Pladd Blog » Bridget

Goodbye Rice email address

pladd — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 23:43:46 +0000

Supposedly today is the day Rice finally deletes my old email address, although I have gotten three things from the TFW list serv today so this may be a lie. Still, in preparation for the impending severing of my last link with Rice University (besides my ongoing frenemy relationship with World’s Most Powerful Cyborg, William Marsh Rice [more on that later]), I went through and saved any old emails I thought would be pertinent to archive for posterity. Because I’m just that much of a librarian. Here are the best bits from the last year (I got bored after July 2008). I arranged them in such a way that, I think, they tell a kind of story about my time at Rice:

July 2008
“If I can’t fuel my car with them, what am I supposed to do with all these cans of creamed corn?”

September 2008
Dear James Fox,
The narrative force behind my dream last night was rescuing you from the Amish. I’m not sure why they wanted you in the first place, but it would explain your fear of modern things like shaving and haircuts. If you are actually being held hostage by the Amish, I will of course rush to your aid. Although I suppose I would hear about it by carrier pigeon or through the Amish Underground Railroad, not email. It will be just like my dream except Rob will not be there complaining the whole time and I may actually do something useful instead of running away from haunted trees. Apparently Amish country is full of them. In conclusion, sorry I didn’t rescue you from the Amish. I promise to try harder next time/in real life.
Patricia”

October 2008
“Rachel says you are only allowed to cheat on your boyfriend if you are in another country (where it doesn’t count), with a foreign exchange student (like being in another country), or with someone who has the same name as your boyfriend (comes with the good excuse: “Well… he said his name was Steven… I thought it was you”. Understandable mistake.)”

December 2008
“I am not saving you from zombies. You took the class; you fend for yourself. That’s the deal. Besides I’ll have other stuff to worry about, like looting and making sure I’m the second hottest person in my Zombie Fighting Team (one hot person always dies so that you know it’s serious). Just fyi. It’s good to be ready for any eventuality”

February 2009 (to Rob, after he complained about law school not emailing him back)
“Here is an email for you when you obsessively check your email looking to hear from law
school! You may not know if you’re in there yet or not (you will be) but here are some
other things you’ve gotten into:

–Team Gemini
–People Who Visited Patricia In Scotland Support Group
–Secret Society of List Completers
–The Soft Hair Alliance
–National Honors Society of Excellence

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

You may wish to update your resume right away! Please inform us as soon as possible (by
February 1st) if you accept these many accolades since we have a long waiting list of
less qualified applicants who we will grudgingly accept after weeping at your rejection.

With dignity and acceptance,
The Patricia Institute of Awards and Societies”

March 2009
“You just made me remember that I was obsessed with Pangea as a child. I think it was a wider manifestation of my obsessive compulsive need to complete (“fix”) all jigsaw puzzles within sight. Luckily, I am now able to look at a map without getting a headache and feeling the need to move South America around. Also, I was under the impression that Pangea had chocolate milk rivers.
It’s a logical assumption”

March 2009
“Bridget is dead.

Apparently her immortality just was no match for another day of Willy Week. Phil the
Archivist told me that she’s probably ascended and is now the Alpha Beta. I was comforted
even though I’m pretty sure he just wanted an excuse to make that joke.”

Oh, the memories.

The List: #86 See a Psychic

pladd — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 12:26:05 +0000

At the beginning of this semester, THE 434 began compiling a List of Things To Do Before We Graduate which we have taped to our wall. You know, for motivation and to give me a reason to get out of bed on Sundays. Some of them are fairly normal and not worth talking about (#57 See Rice Baseball Game) and some I’m still not sure how we’re going to complete (#1 Meet Beyonce, #87 Steal Colleen Lamos’ Dog, #25 Get a Squirrel In the Room), although Bova has devoted her post-recital semester to the latter. She says she’s touched one when it was hanging out on the Wiess prison bars and looking the other way, but so far that’s the only development on that front.

However, last week we did complete #86: See a Psychic. We wanted to find a cheaper one so we first tried to google psychics in Houston. None of the web addresses listed were active and all of the phone numbers we tried to call had been disconnected. Clearly they knew we were looking and were trying to fly under the radar. So we decided it would be easier to just drive down Montrose and, behold, nestled amongst the tattoo parlors and adult novelty stores, we found a sign for $10 palm readings.

I had to park on a strange side street and we had to clamber through the underbrush to reach the door, so I was already fairly certain we were going to be paying with our souls/turned into mice/eaten as per every fairy tale I have ever read. The truth was less dramatic. We ended up sitting at this woman’s kitchen table while she peered at our hands and told us what diseases we probably wouldn’t have to worry about while her husband talked on the phone in the background about his insulin. Bova and Rob got off easy with three children each; I, however, am apparently doomed to have SIX children, four of them being two sets of twins. I assume all named Bridget, as per the prophecies of Rob. For a palm reader, she wasn’t very good at looking at hands; I was certain she would notice my engagement ring and say something like “You’ve already found your soul mate” as if this were some startling mystic prediction. Instead:

Gypsy Woman: What’s with this man you love who doesn’t know he loves you yet?
Me: Ummm… he asked me to marry him. So I think he knows.
Gypsy Woman: Aha ahhh! (smoker’s laugh) He’s your soul mate. A good person, but lazy. You are clearly in charge.
Me: Clearly.

Apparently I will live to be 91 and Rob will be 84, which means in the future we give up our idea of a murder-suicide pact at 28 to avoid getting old. Which seemed like an okay plan freshmen year, but now, as a senior, seems startlingly close. On the plus side, this will make list item #62: Senior Citizen’s Party! all the more easy to accomplish/ironic. The point is to dress in lumpy sweaters, eat Worther’s butterscotches and play Bingo. Clearly fun on a bun.

PS… I now have a working FAQ! Finally! A place to answer all of the questions you Frequently Ask Me!

Things That Spell Our Doom–1

pladd — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 16:51:50 +0000

Since I have no class on Fridays, I usually spend the day drawing inane comics about myself fighting crime or honing my paranoia into a finely sharpened point of irrational fear and stockpiled canned goods. Hey, if you have a plan for even the most unlikely worst case scenario, you never have to waste an unnecessary two hours having the awkward “Okay, who do we eat first?” discussion. And because I care about you, all three of you reading this, I’ve decided to share my plans for defeating the Top Five Things That Spell Our Doom (today, anyway).

1. The West Side Story Mafia

“But, Patricia,” you will say. “Everyone knows that West Side Story was over last weekend and so you have no more reason to complain.” WRONG ON BOTH COUNTS, MY FRIEND. I can always find a reason to complain, and they only want you to think they have disbanded. These people practiced for at least four hours a night for three months. Now that the show is officially over, their lives are filled with empty holes and devoid of meaning. A mob without a purpose. Just waiting to wreak untold havoc and reveal its secret agenda. I have a hunch about that too. Because the Wiess commons currently looks like this:

Laziness... OR DIABOLICAL PLAN??

What are they planning on doing with all those stage pieces? Clearly, they will soon institute Phase II of their plan to take over Wiess by using them to build a giant barricade around the Wiess Commons, forcing those of us who still resist them to give up our claims to Wiess or starve to death.

The Plan: Graduate! In a month, I won’t care who owns the commons! Until then, I think I can subsist on the box of Triscuits I just found in my room. DO YOUR WORST, CAITLIN MILLER!

2. The Third Floor Pigeon

Cute... OR PURE EVIL???

Oh, sure, it’s cute. For disease-carrying vermin that eats garbage. Around Rice though, I usually spend more time worrying about the squirrels than the pigeons. However, this one has chosen to build a nest on the third floor landing of the Sketchy Stairwell (you know the one I mean). This is like two threats in one: 1) the pigeon will undoubtedly become vicious when protecting its nest from anyone it sees as a threat (i.e. anyone on the stairs) and 2) any pigeons born there will think of Wiess as home and plague us with their food-stealing, Bird Flu-spreading wrath.

The Plan: I asked noted Pigeonologist James Fox what we could do about this situation and he said: “How do you fight that which flies?…. BURN THE AIR.” When I just stared at him blankly he continued, “It’s like killing fish by replacing the water with JELLO, I don’t know.” I immediately became suspicious about Bridget’s untimely death. Therefore:

3. James Fox

Pirate Fighter.. OR FISH KILLER??

From this second-rate artist’s rendition, we can see that the James Fox is merciless in his persecution of harmless sailors and, apparently, fish. I’m not trying to point fingers, except that now I am 85% convinced that he murdered the immortal fish god Bridget (15% of me still thinks she’s just on vacation in Atlantic City). WHEN WILL HE STRIKE AGAIN?
The Plan: Spread rumors about free hot dogs, the James Fox’s only known weakness. That, and being without his Magical Windbreaker of Strength.

4. The Fourth Floor Rat

Annoying Company Mascot... OR PLAGUE-CARRYING VERMIN???

We all know the horrors of the Fourth Floor Rat. It lives by the trash cans, is about as big as a squirrel, and leaps out at the unsuspecting. According to Brent, who is some kind of SE so must be good at counting, there’s at least two of them. Probably, they are only here to give us plague, but what if they join forces with the Third Floor Pigeon??? It may already be too late.
The Plan: Clearly we should use any remaining money that Jason hasn’t needlessly squandered on bling to flood Wiess with an army of cats to eat the rats. Then dogs to get rid of the cats, and then cheetahs. Then we should be good.

5. Zombies

Walking corpse with a taste for human flesh... OR WALKING CORPSE WITH A TASTE FOR HUMAN FLESH??

This has to be on any list of Things That Spell Our Doom. Because a) Dawn of the Dead traumatized me as a child and b) we live right next to the medical center in the fourth largest city in America, basically trapped next to a likely focal point of zombie outbreak. If you need me to tell you why this is a threat, you may already be one of them.
The Plan: Basically, we’re screwed. Unless you can convince Charles Lena that you are in some way useful (I can drive stick?).

Hopefully all five things on the list won’t happen at once. But, if they do, at least you’ll have been warned. You’ll thank me when the Zombacalypse comes.

Farewell to Bridget: the Once and Future Fish

pladd — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 21:00:49 +0000

You may not realize it, but despite the recent festivities (and all evidence to the contrary) the residents of THE 434 are WRACKED by grief at the death of our beloved friend, roommate, and noted alcoholic: Bridget, the long-lived Beta Fish. Previously thought to be immortal, her death at the age of three comes as a shock—although, as noted Betaologist Rachel Kinney astutely points out, “that’s like one million in fish years”. And so I’ve decided to compile a timeline of Bridget’s life to immortalize her greatness.

September 2006
My goldfish, Finnegan, dies. I contend because Caroline and Erika have secretly named it Pierre behind my back. Tiny goldfish minds just can’t take the confusion. Also, maybe because it was used as a prop in the Freshmen One Acts and Alex A. nearly killed it three nights in a row. Just maybe.

The Next Day 2006
I decide the empty fish bowl looks stupid and go in search of another fish. The Fish That Will Be Bridget is the only one that’s moving, so I choose her. I name her Bridget despite her clearly being a man-fish in fulfillment of the Prophecy of Rob. Namely the one that goes “and then you’ll have twelve children all named Bridget.” Rob is convinced that I’m destined for trailer-trashness.

October 2006
Caroline and Erika accuse Bridget of being “boring”. This is what she wants them to think so they won’t get wise to her secret double life as an International Fish of Mystery. Also, she’s mad lazy.

Christmas 2006
Bridget gets engaged to an online con man! Cosmo does a story!

Bridget Loves Her Cosmo

January 2007
Bridget breaks up with the online con man after realizing that he has a mullet in real life.

Summer 2007

Bridget ditches me to spend the summer with Rachel and her many cats. Rachel claims that she witnesses a Bridget Miracle in which Bridget magically comes back to life right before being flushed down the toilet. Rachel is either crazy or the first of Bridget’s disciples. This gives rise to the rumor that Bridget is some kind of immortal fish god imprisoned in our common room. And sometimes a water bottle, for car trips.

Bridget: A Terrible Cupholder Driver

August 2007
Bridget and I are briefly homeless after she loses our room to some Rice squirrels in a poker game.

Homeless Bridget

October 2007
The first of multiple attempts to kill Bridget by putting hot sauce/alcohol/Houston tap water in her bowl. BRIDGET LAUGHS AT PUNY MORTALS.

Bridget Survives All Assassination Attempts!

December 2007
Bridget declines my offer of studying abroad with me, instead choosing to teach my younger brother Thomas the Values and Responsibilities that come with Pet Ownership.

March 2008
Bridget eats for the first time since I left thanks to a Mom Ladd Intervention. Feeling guilty, they buy her a castle.

Bridget's Castle

August 2008
Bridget sings the Delilah Song the entire way back to Houston from her spot in the cupholder. I contemplate abandoning her in Mississippi.

October 2008
Bridget appears on the fish reality TV show, Pimp My Tank, after which her tacky plastic tank is replaced with a newer, classier glass bowl shaped like a giant brandy snifter.

December 2008
Bridget becomes addicted to the Twilight series and tries to change her name to “Bella”, incurring the wrath of Rob. She pouts inside her castle for days.

January 2009
Due to tough economic times (and algae), Bridget is evicted from her castle.

March 17, 2009
Unable to withstand the sheer joys of St. Patrick’s Day (her favorite holiday), Bridget succumbs to alcohol poisoning/old age.

March 18, 2009
Memorial Services are held in THE 434, including spontaneous poetry.

Bridget Memorial Poem

Beer Bike
Persons who shall remain nameless steal Bridget’s empty brandy snifter-shaped bowl, fill it with champagne, and take it to parties.

The Day After Beer Bike
Along with hangovers, a substantial portion of Wiess wonders where it got salmonella.

NOW YOU KNOW!

RIP Bridget

Her Memory Lives On