I'm busy.

I have to write a feature about my friend's husband, who's in the rock band TRUST Company. I have three mid-terms this week. I'm not used to having mid-terms, this is the first semester I've had more than one.

I have to visit a rural town in the Black Belt of Alabama with a population of less than 1,000 and interview strangers.

I have to go to Waverly, Ala. on Saturday (population... 12?) and interview families at a barbecue. Yum.

I have to build a press-kit, and I'm still not clear on what exactly a press-kit is.

I just pushed F-11 and it messed up my whole screen.

Halloween is coming up and if I want to complete my Jill Valentine (don't judge, you KNOW I'm a nerd) costume, I'm going to have to find a way to make some money.

Speaking of money, I somehow managed to make 13 dollars at a yard sale I didn't plan on participating in. Really, it was 11 dollars because I bought a sweater for two dollars at the yard sale (which was actually in my own yard).

That's it. I'm going to eat now.

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For the first time ever, I was kicked out of a bar.

And I wasn't even drunk.

My friends and I decided to have a ladies night, so we all went Buffalo's for a drink and to decide what we wanted to do. When we got to Buffalo's, it was around midnight. We went straight to the back bar, because that's where we always sit. We ordered drinks, and then decided to move up front because there was a band playing and it was really loud.

We sat down at a booth, and after a few minutes a waitress came up to us and asked if we wouldn't mind closing our back bar tabs and starting a bill with her, because we were taking her table. We all said sure (even though she was pretty bitchy about it) and didn't really think more of it. Personally, I was going to finish my Red Stripe and THEN go close my tab, because I had JUST sat down and hadn't even started on it yet. But we seriously had no issue with starting new tabs. Stephanie decided to order another drink, but our server never came back to the table, even when we waved. So Stephanie ordered at the bar with cash instead, which apparently pissed the server off, because I guess she thought we were trying to be bitches and not start a tab with her.

So she sent this super bitch that works there over (I've had run-ins with her before, she called my friend a whore once, for no particular reason, she's a horrible person) and SHE said, "Um, I think it's really rude that you're not ordering drinks from this table, I mean... she needs to make her money." In your mind, imagine that being said in the snottiest, most condescending manner ever.

So I said, "Well, we just want to finish our beers before we close out our tabs, so if you could just wait a little bit for us to do that, we'll be more than happy to start new tabs."

And then she told us to leave. "Um, I think it would be best for you guys to go ahead and leave. Yeah. Thanks."

So we did. We closed our tabs and left the back bartender a $20 tip, because HE'S a nice person. And Stephanie even went to explain herself to the server, who actually felt really bad about the entire thing.

So after that, I called my friend who works the door at another place, and we all got on the list and hung out there, and it was way more fun anyway, because frat guys hang out there and they love to buy girls drinks for no reason.

So fuck you lady at Buffalo's. I'm sorry that you hate girls that are attractive, but it's just a fact of life that you're ugly and a bitch.

You're old, I assumed you had come to terms with it by now.

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I had to write this for my feature class and I figured it would work for a blog entry as well. So, here's what Dragon*Con 2007 was like:

Parking. Bumper stickers with phrases like Voldemort is a Republican displayed proudly on the backs of cars. A slow trickle of strange looking people move from their cars in a busy parking lot to trio of big hotels. Nerds, herded like sheep through a corral in the basement of a Hyatt in downtown Atlanta. Superfans in colorful costumes worn proudly. Superman and Superwoman strike a pose for eager people going snapshot crazy for everyone and everything in view. The smell of cheap cologne mingles with other competing smells: stale cigarette smoke, patchouli, body odor. In some places the smell is so powerful it could knock a person over.
A conference room with bad lighting is labeled “Walk of Fame.” It’s packed full, like a can of sardines. Giddy, middle-aged women clamor to meet quasi-famous actors like Kevin Sorbo and Frank Stallone. Harry Potter fans squeal with glee after shaking the hands of actors that play secondary characters in the movie franchise. The “stars” plaster smiles over their faces and say sickly sweet things to their fans, in order to keep the line moving. The fans, all in costumes made at home by loving hands. Hordes of people dressed up as Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, comic book, cartoon, video game and anime characters. Everywhere, like a sea of trick-or-treaters.
During lunch, Batman and Green Lantern break character in order to pick at their Chick-fil-A sandwiches. Only when a curious onlooker steps up with a camera will they smoothly transition back into their favorite superhero. A Spartan sets a huge golden shield on a small food court table as he settles in to his Chinese food. The line at Dairy Queen is abuzz with foot-tapping, watch-checking Stormtroopers, helmets removed, sweaty hair plastered to foreheads. Dragon*Con, a place for anyone and everyone. Costume not required (but strongly encouraged).


Check out some photos here:

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I was told the puppies had to be euthanized. Sorry everyone.

In lighter news I went to a wedding over the weekend. It was friends from high school, so it was weird but fun. After the reception (which thankfully had an open bar) I went to a friends house and from there she and her "pirate" party crew walked to a bar/restaurant. I drove because I was still in wedding attire and had very tall wedges on. They hurt my feet.

I tell you what, crappy cover bands do not like getting heckled. I say, if you're in a band, you better expect somebody to scream "SLAYER" at you. Unless maybe you're in a Christian rock band... Probably not then.

Last Wednesday I went out to eat with four friends that I've had classes with since I've been at Auburn. I don't have classes with two of them right now and we missed each other so we've all decided to have dinner together every Wednesday. While we were eating pizza and drinking brews at Mellow Mushroom last week, a hippie type (long hair, patchouli stink, oversized clothes) approached our table. He leaned toward me and said, "Excuse me, I just wanted to come over and let you know that you are absolutely gorgoeous."

"Oh... uh. Thank you."

Then he just walked away. It was weird. Hippies are weird. On his way out, he said, "Bye pretty lady." And that was that.

People are strange.

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So I thought this morning would be like any other typical Wednesday morning for me: get up, take Danni to class, take shower, (maybe) eat breakfast, go to class. It just wasn't to be.

As I was applying makeup/fixing my hair this morning, at around 9:20, my friend/next door neighbor Stephanie called.

Okay wait, let me back up.

On Sunday night my neighbor T.J. (owns and lives in the duplex Stephanie lives in) came over to tell us one of his dogs had puppies under his house and he didn't know what to do. So naturally we told him to get them out from under his house and put them in a box inside. It's really too hot for those puppies to be under his house right now. So he did and there were four of them. Two black, two white. Currently, they are only four days old.

Now, back to this morning.

Stephanie called and said, "Hey, there's a box with some puppies on my front porch."

"Yeah, T.J.'s dog had puppies, they're his don't worry about it."

"Well, they're crying and hot and covered in fleas."

"Shit, hold on."

Edward was here this morning so we walked over to Steph's porch and there, in this dirty box covered in, you know... were four dying puppies. They were overheated, dehydrated and I couldn't find their mother anywhere (she's a crazy, formally abused, neurotic dog). I freaked out, grabbed the box and ran it to my house. The puppies were crying, and definitely flea-ridden and foaming at the mouth. It was horrible.

I took them out of the box and put them on the floor, because it's hardwood and cool. Edward called Animal Control and we waited.

The white dogs were in better condition than the black ones, but still, I think if they had stayed outside any longer they would have died from the heat. It was 90 degrees at nine this morning, it's 103 right now. Four day old puppies can't be out in that kind of heat, any idiot knows that.

Animal Control showed up at around 9:45 and took the puppies, so hopefully they'll be okay. I'll probably call tomorrow to check on them. And I'll tell T.J. that I'm sorry his puppies are gone, but I couldn't just let them die outside in the heat.

Now I have to worry even more because his OTHER dog had puppies yesterday and they're under a shed in his backyard. Yes, I tried to get underneath the shed, no I didn't fit. The puppies seem like they're okay, and I didn't notice any dead ones. I'm going to check again later tonight.

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Oh boy, college! Only one semester left after this one:

Monday, Wednesday, Friday - Feature Writing, from 10-10:50, which is fantastic. I get out before noon three days a week! Plus, it's a fun class. It's a journalism class where we learn to write feature stories. I also found out that after mid-semester, I'll be mentoring a child. I told Edward that and he looked at me incredulously and said, "You?!? You hate kids!"

This is not true. I, like most people my age, do not know how to deal with children. I don't understand them, they frustrate me. That doesn't mean I hate them. It just means they piss me off. I'm kind of excited about mentoring a young student though, I think it could be fun. And (selfish moment time) it'll look good on my resume!

Tuesday, Thursday (my long days) -
1. Communication in Organizations, from 9:30-10:45. Basically I'll learn how to act in an interview, how to organize my resume (againnnnn), how to make a cover letter... all that fun stuff. I love my teacher, she's young and hilarious.
2. Organizational Behavior, 11:00-12:15. A management course, kill meeeee... Again, I love my teacher, but I really don't like business classes. They're not my thing. I think I'll do well in it, plus there are a ton of other PR majors in there that I already know.
3. Writing For Public Relations, 12:30-1:45. The only PR class I'm taking this semester, yarg. Basically, we're going to learn how to write press releases, make a press kit (exciting!!!), and how to sharpen and perfect our writing skills as PR practitioners. My professor is amazing, I had her for two courses last semester and it was so much fun. I feel incredibly lucky to have her again.
4. Human Resources, from 2:00-3:15. My final (forever) management class. Oh my gyah, it is so incredibly boring. And, the most obnoxious douchebag stoner sits in front of me. He calls himself Sedge (lame) and can't keep his mouth shut. I want to hurt him. I really can't handle when students are disrespectful to great professors just to seem cool in class. I'm going to try and sit as far away from him as humanly possible on Thursday, because I think if I sit near him again I might have to say something to him.

My friend (and ride to class) has all four Tuesday, Thursday classes with me, which is great. I also am stoked that at this point in my college career, I see at least one person I know on campus daily, and I know most the people in my classes. It's exciting.

This weekend I have to go to a wedding, bleh. I have to drive three hours to Decatur, which I am not excited about. At least I have a new haircut and a cute dress to wear. And the reception is open bar. Dry weddings are unbearable. I have a feeling this wedding is going to be kind of a 5-year high school reunion. I have nothing to worry about though, I've lost weight since high school and my skin finally cleared up (took it long enough). Holy shit, I can't believe it's been five years since I graduated high school... And in less than a year I'll be done with school forever. Life goes faster every year.

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