I'm warning you: this is kind of random. I usually like to write columns that have either a point, a purpose or some semblance of organization, but it is sort of hard to achieve these things during Carnival weekend. A '97 friend of mine used to call the big weekends "College-sanctioned vacations from sobriety." I disagree about the sobriety thing. I like to think of Winter Carnival and other weekends like it as College-sponsored vacations from doing anything remotely resembling work. As much as I love writing columns, they require a structure and must be turned in by a deadline, which makes writing them count as work. Thus, this column is slightly incoherent.
I had really good intentions at the start of the weekend. I was going to spend all day Friday in the library, and get work out of the way so that I could enjoy the rest of the weekend. It sort of didn't happen that way. I did go to the library, in fact I made it there relatively early (by my standards) -- noon. But then I saw my friend Lisa, and we went to lunch. On the way back at around 1, we noticed people on the tower, so of course we had to go up there too, and we had to drag Liz with us. While we were out there, we started waving at random people. We decided that we wouldn't go back inside until people waved back. But no one did, and we sort of froze, so we gave up on that one. Then Liz wanted to go to lunch, so Lisa and I had to escort her to protect her from any dangers lurking along the very dangerous route from Baker to Food Court. By the time we finished, it was like 2:15 p.m., and we decided that we needed snacks for the long afternoon we were planning on spending in the reserve corridor. So we waited for Topside to open, and bought frosting and graham crackers.
Things rapidly deteriorated after that, and somehow instead of going to the library we sort of ended up back in the dorm watching General Hospital, eating frosting and reading YM (I'm going to trash YM now, and this may actually have a point). I have decided that YM is the world's worst magazine. The articles are all so shallow. In their "Girl Zone: Your guide to kickin' butt," they have this little article on "how to flex your she-muscle in some supertough sitches." Sitches? Is this some feeble attempt at slang for "situations?" Then I looked at their little situations. One of them was "the cosmetics counter salesperson keeps blowing you off." How is that a "super-tough sitch" or whatever you want to call it? Gee, I wish my "super-tough situations" were that easy to find answers to. I've decided that I need to start a teeny-bopper magazine of my own. Maybe one that emphasizes, oh, I don't know, being caring and thoughtful instead of trying to be skinny and pretty. But that's another story.
Besides being conducive to completely blowing off work, Winter Carnival also lends itself to doing out of the ordinary things. So I colored my hair for fun. Well, first Emily and I had to search all over Hanover for an appropriate hair-dyeing product (doesn't anyone in Hanover dye their hair?) We finally found henna at the Natural Apothecary shop. We didn't have any of the necessary tools, so we sort of improvised with a fork, enviromug and a DDS plastic bag. I admit I was a little bit skeptical because at first there was more henna on the floor than in my hair, but we fixed it. Actually, we fixed my hair, but the carpet is still looking a little stained. I'll have to find a way to clean it to avoid a lovely dorm damage fine or fee or whatever ORL tries to call it.
I must say that I have enjoyed this little vacation. Now it is Sunday night, and writing this is the closest I have come to doing work this weekend. I just got back from an awesome Dar Williams concert. It definitely motivated me -- to listen to music, not to study. Oh well. There will be plenty of time to work during the rest of the term, right?
