I think it really says something about my life that I’m not more bitter about this

I got a B on my Biology of Sex final, which I think is pretty good for someone who who went through the review sheet and said, “When did we learn this?”

Tara and I have decided we’re going to see Darren Criss on his Listen Up tour. We also decided we were going to try to snag the VIP package so we could actually meet him. Last week I was just dicking around on the Internet when I thought, “Hell, VIP packages don’t go on sale for days, but I’m going to check just in case.” And it’s like there was a cosmic realignment in the universe, because VIP PACKAGES WERE ON SALE. AND THEY WERE AVAILABLE. AND I WAS SITTING THERE STARING AT THE CHECK-OUT PAGE. The last time Tara and I tried to get VIP for Starkid’s Apocalyptour, they sold out almost immediately and we cried for days. And here I was, with this gift staring me right in the face. I briefly weighed the pros and cons of calling and waking Tara since it was 8:30 a.m. (it’s like rousing a sleeping dragon), decided the benefits far outweighed the risks, accidentally threw the phone halfway across the room in my haste, and finally called. She answered with something like, “Hrrgnfkjw,” and I said, “VIP PACKAGES ARE ON SALE. RIGHT NOW,” and she was like, “Oh my God,” and we both went to work.

“Okay, I’m purchasing mine,” I said. “Right… now.”

“Me too!”

“Wait,” I said, “it says they’re sold out.”

“It… what?”

“They’re sold out.”

“No, they’re not,” she said uncertainly.

Slowly it dawned on me. “Tara,” I said quietly, “did this just happen?”

“Oh God.”

“Did you get a VIP package and I didn’t?”


“I think my worst nightmare is being realized,” I said.


“Oh, God,” I said.

I tried again when the VIP packages went on sale for the general public, but no dice. This could really only happen to me, though, couldn’t it? I luck out and stumble upon this VIP miracle. I call Tara to tell her. I get excited. And then tragedy unfolds. Sometime in June I’m going to be waiting patiently out on the sidewalk while Tara meets Darren Criss. But that’s okay, I told her to bring a life-sized cardboard cutout of me. It’ll be a crazy conversation starter. And it’ll be like I’m in the picture.

Of course Locke is the baby whisperer

Tara and I are still watching Lost and Vampire Diaries. I don’t know what Tara’s thoughts are on Lost (although I can tell you that show ruined my life because I’ll never get over the fact that it ended), but as for Vampire Diaries I am always pleasantly surprised with the direction of its plot. It never does the predictable thing, and I like that. I also love Caroline. I also love all the minor characters, and then they die. So here’s how that’s going:

Elodie: I just had this image of Katherine knocking back liquor at a bar someplace while Elena is the weathered bartender listening to her story.


Tara: Shannon’s using Vincent to find Walt
Tara: If someone tried to use one of my dogs to find me it would not work at all.


Tara: And “death sucks,” that was your opening line?
Elodie: He thought about it a lot on the way over.


Tara: Of course Locke is the baby whisperer


Elodie: I love this Slater guy, which means he’s probably going to die


Elodie: If you wanted to fit in somewhere and live a normal life why the hell would you move to Mystic Falls


Tara: NO
Tara: NO
Tara: NO
Tara: NO
Elodie: I know. Thank God Slater’s still alive.
Tara: I was just thinking “wait for it…”
Elodie: I fell in love with another minor character and it cost me.
Elodie: This was a sad night all around.
Tara: That it was.

And finally

Elodie: Earlier I told my mom you were going to watch the episode where [character] dies, and she was like, “You’re only that far?” So she too believes we’re not watching TV fast enough.
Tara: I want to finish Lost by the end of the summer, that’s my goal.
Elodie: And I want to catch up with Vampire Diaries and Game of Thrones.
Elodie: How can people say we’re not ambitious

Moving Out, Apartment Hunting, and Summer

I moved out of my dorm yesterday. My mom asked me if it was sad at all, and no, it was not. I will not miss the person above me bouncing a basketball at all hours of the day. (If that sounds like an innuendo, it’s not. He was actually just bouncing a basketball. There was one time I’m positive he was not, in fact, bouncing a basketball, but I used that time as a basis for comparison so I’m certain all subsequent times were him just bouncing the damn basketball.) I will not miss the we-ran-out-of-toilet-paper-in-the-communal-bathroom situation. I will also not miss running up and down the stairs all day. And I will not miss people dumping my laundry out on the floor like heathens. That’s not to say living in the dorms was a wholly unpleasant experience. I liked not having to go grocery shopping very often.

Next year I’m going to be living in an apartment with my friend from high school who we’ll call Caitlyn. We literally went apartment hunting for one day, because we knew what we wanted when we saw it. We were also sick of walking places. No, I kid. It was the first thing. Also I was tired of walking.

I just dropped Alex off at school and got gas in my pajamas. If that’s indicative of my summer prospects I’m ignoring it. Did I mention while I was moving out of my dorm, it was snowing? But it’s forty degrees now, so summer is here.

Of course he’s arrogant, he’s TONY STARK

The other day in class my professor showed us the trailer for the first Iron Man movie to make some point about American ideals of superheroes, or something. A lot of it went right over my head, because I started getting excited for Iron Man 3 and the point was pretty much lost on me. I started paying attention, however, when some girl raised her hand and said, “We idealize this arrogant, overly self-confident archetype of a completely unrealistic superhero! I mean he flies around in a suit of armor and has a battery for a heart!” And it was the best thing, another girl didn’t even raise her hand, she just shouted out, “IT’S NOT A BATTERY, IT’S AN ELECTROMAGNET KEEPING THE SHRAPNEL FROM KILLING HIM, AUDREY, GOD!”

I wanted to start a slow clap, but that kind of thing isn’t really all that impressive when nobody else joins in.

An Insider’s Look at My Life

I Tweeted recently about feeling like I have to explain everything that pops up on my search history whenever someone uses my laptop to Google something. So today, to make up for this week’s lapse in blogging, I’m diving in. I’m going to give you guys all those nitty-gritty details. I’m giving you my recent search history, unabridged. I’m not even sure what I’ve Googled recently, so LET’S DO THIS.


Oh, right. I literally just looked that up two seconds ago as a result of this conversation:

Tara: Maybe watching Hannibal will cheer me up.
Elodie: I haven’t watched it, but somehow I doubt it.

“The Virgin Mary marian miracles”

I’m writing an essay on the medieval preoccupation with Mary. (They basically wrote Mary fanfiction. Mary/Humanity OTP.)

“Henry Cavill”

OH RIGHT. YES. I had just realized that Henry Cavill, who plays Charles Brandon on The Tudors (of “we-haven’t-had-any-sex-scenes-in-a-while-so-let’s-just-have-a-Charles-Brandon-sex-scene-for-no-reason” fame) is going to be Superman in Man of Steel.

“Henry Cavill pronunciation”

Yeeeah. I realized I wouldn’t be able to articulate this to anyone because cah-VILLE? CAH-vul?

“Eve in Paradise Lost john milton”

Back to the essay.

“dylan o’brien maze runnerljw”

That’s literally the Google search. I got too excited towards the end there BECAUSE DYLAN O’BRIEN IS GOING TO BE IN THE MAZE RUNNER MOVIE AND I’M JUST SO PROUD OF HIS  ACCOMPLISHMENTS. If you don’t know who Dylan O’Brien is, he’s Stiles in Teen Wolf and I have a vested interest in his career.

“Maze Runner plot”

I read the book a long time ago, and I forget what happens.


The result of an ongoing investigation triggered by the MTV Movie Awards, during which this happened:

Elodie: I’m going to be honest here, prior to this I did not know what Macklemore was
Elodie: …
Elodie: And based on this performance I’m still not sure
Elodie: Is he a rapper or a one-man Mariachi band?

“the flux”

I was watching The Tudors. I was unfamiliar with this term. I found it refers to dysentery. It was a lovely episode.

“tumblr queue not working”

Aaaaand if I had to pick a single Google search item that sums up my life, this would be it, because I use Google primarily to type in my problems (usually incoherently) and see what solutions Google spits back at me. I hope this was semi-enjoyable. What’re the last five things you searched? DON’T BE AFRAID.


It happened. It finally happened. I missed a day of blogging, and then, before I knew it, I’d missed four. I’m sorry! I deserve a swift kick in the kneecaps or a punch in the elbow. I completely forgot on the 14th, and I’m not sure how that happened. It wasn’t a particularly stressful day. I wasn’t overloaded with work. I don’t know how I’ve managed to have days where I literally wrote a post with four minutes until midnight because I was so swamped with homework, yet on that day I was kicking back on my futon with a bag of chips and thinking, “Is there something I should be doing? Something important? Something… blog-related? Nah, probably not.”

Then the Boston bombings happened on the 15th, and it was just one of those days where I think we as a collective people needed to turn off the news after a while, eat junk food in our comfiest sweatshirts, and listen to our Aaron Tveit playlists. (Maybe that was just my thing.)

On the sixteenth I registered for classes, and then I went to a reading of senior theses for the Creative Writing majors. Some of the short stories were very sexual, and I was sitting next to a stranger on the smallest couch in the entire world. And he was really into it. He let out a “whoop!” every now and again, and he wolf-whistled this one guy at the podium that we were both totally checking out.

That brings us to today, and nothing happened today. That’s it. You’re all caught up. I made a promise to  faithful Twitter follower Savannah that I would make this up to you guys, and I will tomorrow. How, you ask? YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO SEE. (See what I’m doing here? I’m giving you an incentive to come back tomorrow. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I CAN BE A BETTER PERSON. JUST WAIT, YOU’LL SEE.)

Henry VIII: King of Tantrums

I swear I do more things than just watch TV. I promise I go out and do things. But, I was recently watching an episode of The Tudors (I know, I know, I prefaced this just so I could just regale you with another TV story. Actually I just wanted to tell somebody this, and you people are my captive audience, sort of), and I was thinking, “Just once, just once I want somebody to say ‘fuck you’ to the king. JUST ONCE.” Because of all the 5,000 people Henry VIII has had beheaded so far, approximately 5,000 of them stood there in front of the crowd and said something to the effect of, “Please pray for me, and pray for the king. I don’t deserve his love and I hope he’ll forgive me for my faults.” Blah, blah. And then they take an ax to the head, and it’s messy.

And today finally, FINALLY, his fifth wife, Catherine Howard, gave me what I wanted. She was being executed for having sex with this one guy before her marriage to the king, and for committing adultery with this other guy, Culpepper, during the marriage. And she got up there and said, “I die a queen, but I would rather die the wife of Culpepper,” which I think is probably the closest I’m going to get to the medieval equivalent of “fuck you, King Henry VIII, you selfish piece of shit.” I literally slammed my hand down on my desk and went, “OHHHHHHH!” I will totally take it. The basic premise for this show is “Let’s see what happens when we give the entire country of England to a particularly tantrum-prone child and let him make decisions.” And, to much surprise, it goes rather poorly.

I only wish Henry had been there to see it. Maybe word will get back. I’d love to see that tantrum.