Pro-Procrastination


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Another Fangirl Post

It feels SO GOOD not having to post that hideous 22b422 logo, oh man. That was one joke that got more than enough stage time. To help my eyes heal from the Wordart, I’ve been playing around with some versions of this week’s SUMO poster. For Drive. The movie that I’m in love with. NBD (but actually..).

Here’s the one that’s actually going up around campus:
And here are the ones I am going to use to paper my living room:

My personal favorite.
I know.. but I couldn’t not make this joke.

Can you spot the subliminal love note?

GEDDIT GLOVE  
Oh man I love my job. 
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22B422 Pt. 10: Four-Leaf Clover Hotspots

In honor of Friday the 13th, I thought I’d share some advice for those of you who want to stay safe on this and future Unlucky Days. Here are the places I’ve found four-leaf clovers in SE Minnesota.


Camp Philippo Boy Scout Reservation: I found my first four-leaf clover here over the summer of 2001 at a girl’s camp. This discovery was basically the root of my friendship with Katie Fleming (HEY KATIE!).

Essex Park (Rochester, MN): Over the summer of 2003, Francisco and I spent an entire afternoon looking for four-leaf clovers on the grassy area between the volleyball court and the horseshoe things. We found a total of twelve four-leaf clovers (Francisco found most of them but I convinced him that I deserved to keep at least 6 of them since I was older) (I’m not a good person). We went home and taped them up and kept them in an envelope that I promptly lost.

In front of the Aroma Pie Shop in Whalan, MN on the Root River bike trail: I found one four-leaf clover in the summer of 2007, taped it up (I came prepared!) then used it as a bookmark for 100 Years of Solitude. That sounds so snobby, but it felt really enchanting at the time.

Behind the John Marshall Parking Lot (Rochester, MN): This was a special find because I saw the four-leaf clover without looking for it. I saw this one during September of 2007, and gave it to the person who’d been sitting next to me.

Next to the Carleton community garden (Northfield, MN): The best part of ARTS Junior Seminar was when I found 2 four-leaf clovers during one of our outdoor class discussions in spring term of 2011. I kept these in my wallet, they’re currently sandwiched behind my learner’s permit and an old student ID.


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Dia de los Muertos

Today is Dia de los Muertos, and I wanted to share something my bff Pablo Neruda wrote. If you live in Salamanca, Gto., you’re lucky enough to have his poems scattered all over the street (one of the town’s very, very few perks..). Otherwise, you can read it here. 

¿Quien muere?
Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito, repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, quien no cambia de marca. No arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce. Muere lentamente quien hace de la televisión su gurú.

Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las “íes” a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.


Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.


Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en si mismo. Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar. Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte de la lluvia incesante. Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce ono respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.


Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar. Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos

una espléndida felicidad. 



He who follows the same routes every day, who never changes pace, who does not risk and change the color of his clothes, who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white, dotting ones “it’s” rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer, that turn a yawn into a smile, that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy, who is unhappy at work, who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to thus follow a dream, those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly.

He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem, who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know, he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let’s try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.


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Listeria II: Goodbyes

The past week has seen a lot of losses. You might want to find a Kleenex box and scroll to the bottom of the post to refer to my handy list of Top Ten Goodbye Songs before continuing. You could also just pop in a NOW! cd, because most songs I put on the list have been on those compilations .. no surprise there.

1. Goodbye, crappy white Macbook.

After 3.5 years of constant use/abuse, you might think that this computer is totally unusable. That’s sort of true, because it was totally unusable until 2 days ago, when it was given a new hard drive, new battery, and sent to Mexico.

This computer has seen me through the thick and think of my adolescence. When I was in France, it was my connection to Seth Cohen and Summer Roberts in Newport Beach. It was also my connection to people I actually knew/ college acceptance emails/lots of music, but most importantly it endured hours upon hours of Californiaaa Here We Coooome.
At Carleton, this computer saw me through my linguistics all-nighter, my Latin American Poetry all-nighter, my Arrested Development all-nighter, my English all-nighters, and my many many many studio art all-nighters. The night I was supposed to spend writing an art history essay, I instead spent in the library trying not to cry as Ernesto did his best to salvage my waterlogged computer. I had walked in the rain for 7 minutes, and 7 minutes was enough to ruin the laptop.
NOT! Because my computer is a FIGHTER and on the third day (or the fifteenthth day) it was risen from the dead in glory and splendor and with minimal screen damage. Not to draw inappropriate comparisons.. but that MacBook could’ve come straight out of the New Testament.
2. Goodbye, Memory Card
So about 36 hours ago I realized that my camera was missing its memory card. Seeing as how the last place I’d left it was approx. 2 inches away from my trash can, and how I’ve searched EVERYWHERE, I’m assuming it fell in and is now sitting in a landfill next to a bunch of pizza boxes and old tires. It’s unfortunate because the neither the pizza boxes or the tires have any way to enjoy the 594 pictures that were on there, so they’ll assume that Mr. Memory Card is just boring and quiet and they won’t bother starting a conversation when actually he’s got 594 stories to tell if anyone would just say “Hey.”
3. Goodbye, Yellow Sunglasses
I’d been waiting 7 LONG MONTHS for there to be enough sun that I needed to wear these. Two weeks into that long-awaited springtime, I found away to drop, step on, and break the sunglasses all in half a second. That makes these the fourth pair of glasses I’ve stepped on in the past year. Owning glasses = constant heartbreak.
My life won’t ever be the same without the three of you. Even if I try to replace each of you with bigger and better products, a little bit of me will always be stuck saying “Goodbye.” I hope you’ll be saying it back to me.
Top Ten Goodbye Songs (dedicated to Crappy MacBook, Memory Card, Yellow Sunglasses, and all of the other possessions I will someday break or misplace):
10. All I Have (ft. LL Cool J) – J. Lo. For all the times you don’t want to say goodbye. For all the times J.Lo is bouncin’ and you can’t do anything about it but rap to try to convince her to stay. ‘Instead of beefin come hold me, I promise I’m not a phony.’
9. Closing Time – Semisonic This song is the kind of thing that everyone pretends to hate, they roll their eyes when it starts playing and shake their heads at the DJ, but they secretly know all of the lyrics and get sort of sad when it’s over. Also see The Graduation Song by Vitamin C and Good Riddance by Greenday.
8. Cry Me A River – Justin Timberlake So Justin tries to act very strong and detached during this song, but if you listen hard enough, you can tell that it’s hurting him to leave. He’s mad, and when people are mad they act detached and cold, but the verses in falsetto give him away. He’s crying himself a river, that’s how hard it is for him to say goodbye.
7. Won’t Go Home Without You – Maroon 5 I guess this is another song that’s more about not wanting to say ‘Goodbye,’ which makes it close enough to a Goodbye song.
6. Bye Bye Bye – N*Sync
It’s cliche, but it would be blasphemous to NOT have this song on this list. Besides, I’m pretty sure that the Bye Bye Bye Clap has replaced the Wave Goodbye.

5. Let It Burn – Usher There’s a fine line between a regular break-up song and an actual goodbye song. The typical break up song is mostly angry or bitter, and few are as emotionally well-rounded as this one. Or if not well-rounded, it’s a little confusing as to who’s leaving and who’s staying, which automatically makes it DEEP. In a few days when I’m no longer procrastinating for my Modern Art final, maybe I’ll do a post about how Let It Burn fits pretty well into the PostModern scheme of things. You’re welcome in advance.
That’s a joke, I hate postmodern things, postmodernism can push itself off a cliff please and thank you.
4. Ruby Tuesday – Rolling Stones This is the part of the list where things get serious. Like, I hear this song and I actually get sad, and it feels like the louder I sing the chorus the better I’ll feel. I’m saving this one for the last Harry Potter movie – the credits will start rolling and I’ll go, “GOOOOOODBYE, RUUUBY TUESDAY!”
3. You And I Both – Jason Mraz I have nothing snarky to say about this song, because it’s very pretty and a little sad and a lot of fun to sing. It’s also what plays inside my head every time I leave Rochester. One time I heard it in the HyVee gas station right before heading back to NoFo (that’s right) and it made my whole night, because gas stations usually play more annoying things like “Lucky” or “I’m Yours”, not good ones like this. I pretended to consider buying a bag of beef jerky so that I could stick around long enough to hear the whole song play.

2. I’m Gonna Find Another You – John Mayer Recently, I had a conversation with my brother about which John Mayer song he could play for me at the wedding, (since he’s the best brother in the world and is willing to something like that for me) and after the third angsty anti-love song I suggested, we concluded that John Mayer songs might not be the most suitable for the event. They ARE, however, very suitable for So Longs and Farewells, and so this one made it onto this list.
1. Danke Schoen – Wayne Newton Remember that one amazing movie where the beautiful Matt Broderick wins over the city of Chicago with little more than a wink and a couple of dance moves? That amazing movie is the first thing I’m going to watch when I’m done with finals, and this amazing song is the first thing I’m gonna sing when I’m driving far far away from the cesspool that is Carleton College in about a year and four days. Because although Carleton is a terrible place, it’s a terrible place that I somehow care about, and when I say “Goodbye,” I want to do it right.


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Her?


I was watching my daily dose of Grey’s Anatomy, the world’s trashiest medical tele-drama, when I couldn’t help but feel like one of the guest characters seemed awfully familiar. In the episode, Heather Douglas is a 17-year old girl whose spine is permanently bent at 90 degrees. Only someone as ruggedly handsome and surgically capable as Dr. McDreamy can take on such a risky surgery and fix Heather’s life. But can he straighten her spine without paralyzing her? And how will Heather’s mom afford the $300,000 surgery? And even if she makes it through the surgery, will Heather ever have the courage to get a better haircut?
Under normal circumstances, these questions would have me on the edge of my seat. But this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew Heather from before. What had her name been? Plant? Hog? Maybe Yam?
Hold on I got this. Her name was EGG!

She calls it a Mayonegg.
I mean Ann. Her name was Ann Veal, George Michael’s non-incestuous true love from Arrested Development.
Ann!! How could I forget Ann?!!
So yeah, I was excited when I realized that Egg (also known as Mae Whitman.. but Egg is easier to remember. right right?) wasn’t ending her TV career with Arrested Development. If you can’t star in one of TV’s best-written programs, what better replacement than the seedy underbelly of raunchy hospital romance known as Grey’s Anatomy?
But it doesn’t stop here. Not only does Egg appear in sexy adult doctor shows, but she’s the voice of Katara, supahawt asian water-bender from Nick’s animated show, Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Seriously. SERIOUSLY. Ann/Egg = Katara. I don’t know how many of you have watched Avatar, but you should know that it is possibly Nickelodeon’s greatest contribution to the world. And even though Aang is the Avatar and all, everyone knows that the real hero of the show is Katara. I mean she can water-bend people’s blood to control their bodies. Katara is serious business.

By now you’re still recovering from this whole Heather= Ann/Egg = Katara business, but we’re not through. In 2001, Fox Family came out with a series known as State of Grace. It only aired two seasons, but in 6th grade I managed to watch most of the show during a back-to-back marathon. The show was set in the 60s, and was about two pre-teen girls who, despite their differences, grow to be best friends. One is Alia Shawkat, a Jewish girl who doesn’t fit in at school, is shy and has too many freckles. The other one is Emma “Grace” McKee, a 12-year -old wealthy Catholic girl who can’t stop getting into trouble. She’s feisty, rebellious, and really into fondue. She is Ann. Egg. Katara. Crazy eh?

BUT WAIT. Stop everything. Who’s the dark-haired girl next to Grace/Egg/Katara?? Why isn’t George Michael in between them, biting his fingernails and stammering? What’s going on?

SO Ann/Egg’s co-star in State of Grace was none other than Alia Shawkat. Or as we all know and love her, Maeby Funke. From Arrested Development. George-Michael’s incestuous true love. (well sort of).

If you are not out-of-your-mind excited about the fact that Maeby and Egg were co-stars on a show yeaaaars before Arrested Development, I want nothing to do with you. I haven’t been this excited about anything since I first realized that LOST, Arrested Development and The O.C. all take place (somehow) in Newport Beach.
This whole Heather/Ann/Katara/Grace discovery has taken place in the library while I was going to study for my physics final, which is two days away. You may say this was a waste of valuable study time, but I can prove you wrong:


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Who You Gonna Call?

Life can be tough sometimes, you know? And when life gets tough, you find out who your real friends are. When the world has got me down and nobody understands my secret pain, there is one thing I always know I can turn to. Its name is Yahoo Answers.

Typical scenario: My life is crumbling before my eyes. My mittens are lost. The key to my brother’s car won’t turn. That one line from that one Jack Johnson song is on the tip of my tongue and I can’t remember how it goes. There’s a crick in my back. The oil paintings I have to turn in the next day aren’t dry yet.

Who you gonna call? Yahoo Answers. Because not only will you find a diverse assortment of solutions or off-topic rants, you will realize that things could be a lot worse. You will realize that somewhere in the universe is a 15 year old girl who isn’t sure how to read her pregnancy test. Or someone who’s having trouble uploading their original fan fiction Word doc. Or someone who needs help choosing a new designer iPhone case. Or someone who doesn’t have Spellchecker. Each tab that I open feels like a whole new universe that I have yet to explore. Each question I read makes me into a more introspective, curious person.


“What type of music is each zodiac sign good at dancing?”


“Where can i get spice girls lolliepops?”


“What’s a good plea to get unbanned from 4chan?”


“Will snow globe collections give you profit in the future?”


“Why oh why do i hate stupid people?”


“How can I get some tumblr followers, possibly overnight?”


“How did my brother become a geek and let himself go?”


“Do rabbits with wings even exist?”


“How long after eating cereal should I wait before drinking soda?”

As Frank Atwood so graciously put it in the last season of The O.C. when he was trying to explain his undying love for Julie Cooper, “We’re from the same world.” Such is my undying love for Yahoo Answers. I go to Yahoo Answers and I find kindred spirits. I find the questions I didn’t even know I wanted to ask.