Midterms are coming up, and I need to study. Like, I need to study. This is not a drill. I don’t know what’s happening in my astronomy course anymore, and tensions are high. Why in God’s name am I taking an astronomy course? Well, because I’m an English major who needs 3 final science credits, and oceanography was full.
What am I doing instead? Making this post, and creating a playlist to listen to when I drive home for spring break. Seems a little presumptuous, I know, to assume I’ll be going home for spring break and that the sheer force of the astronomy midterm, coupled with how little I know, won’t kill me. But I’m an optimist.
Nabeela asked me what I got for my birthday, besides desserts aplenty, and I’m not one to pass up a chance to talk about myself, so here you go. From my parents, I got mostly groceries (I asked for them) and the pleasure of their company, but I also got the shirt below on the left. From Tara, I got the one on the right. The left is from Rooster Teeth, of which I am a fan, and right is the novel version of Les Misérables printed on a shirt.
It occurs to me that I am slowly amassing a collection of T-shirts that need to be explained. From Allison, I got a DVD of a Super Mario Brothers TV show that I DID NOT EVEN KNOW EXISTED. My brother got me a super-large jar of Jif peanut butter because I’ve been complaining whenever they don’t have it at the grocery store here. From all of this, I think it’s easy to see where my heart truly lies: with video games, historical fiction, and food.
I turned 21 last week, which means I now claim legal ownership over the beer in my refrigerator. Here’s the final tally on desserts that I amassed during all the birthday hooplah:
- A pan of cheesecake brownies
- A cookie cake
- A brownie with cookie dough on top (!!!)
- A bag of mini M&Ms from Tara
- Heart-shaped Valentine’s brownies that my brother’s girlfriend made
- Chocolate cookie bombs, which were balls of cookie dough inside a layer of brownie INSIDE a casing of CHOCOLATE (ASDGKDHGDKL)
- Two giant cookies that I bought for myself, unaware as I was that a veritable hurricane of sugar (see above) was on its way
My roommate and I went home for the weekend, which I tried to call my Birthweekendday, but it didn’t catch on even a little bit. On Valentine’s Day Tara and I played a really cutthroat game of Monopoly with my brother Alex and his girlfriend. I was just on the verge of expanding my empire and unleashing HELL when Allison arrived, and she put a stop to it. (I guess it was for the best.) We then went out for dinner and a stand-up comedy show. (The comedians were from LA, so they made a lot of jokes about snow and potholes.) The next night, my mom made me breakfast for dinner (I WAS IN HEAVEN) and then Allison and Holly took me to a bar downtown. I’m not going to lie here, it did get pretty wild. We left the bar after a bit and went to Burger King, where we were told we had to order and leave because the dude manning the frying pans had to go pick up his daughter at 11:30 (seriously) (and we weren’t even surprised… this has happened before) so we took our food from that Burger King to the other Burger King. We even ordered more food. We’re not assholes. The only thing weirder than going to a Burger King already laden with Burger King food is doing that and then not buying anything.
I don’t feel very different, being 21. However, I seem to have missed my window of opportunity for fleeing from busted frat parties and jumping fences and going on some kind of drunken excursion in the woods. Teen movies told me this would happen. Teen movies lied to me.
I spent my birthday frantically writing an English essay and watching my team lose fantastically at basketball.
Elodie: Holy hell. I just turned on the Michigan/MSU game and then I immediately turned off the Michigan/MSU game.
Alex: I know isn’t it great
Alex: Happy birthday by the way
Elodie: Oh shut up
Alex is a State fan. It’s a constant source of strife.
But Alyssa the MAGNIFICENT over here threw me an iParty on Twitter! AN iPARTY. And that just made it all worth it, because how many friends do you have that would throw you an iParty? NONE. They are a rarity. Alyssa is like a MAGICAL UNICORN. And EVERYTHING at the party was edible, I think. (You did say “go ahead and devour the valuables,” right Alyssa?)
Twenty years ago to this very day, I was born and I ROSE FROM THE ASHES LIKE A PHOENIX DEMON INTENT ON CONQUERING THE WORLD.
Sorry. That’s the fun version. The real version is that I was born in the middle of a blizzard and everyone was cold and it took about four months for me to smile at my parents. I think they’ve always held a grudge.
All throughout middle and high school, there were three other guys in my grade that had the same birthday as me. And I always felt like it was a competition. None of us were friends, specifically. There was Guy 1, who was a major jock and kind of an asshole; Guy 2, who was really smart and a huge Harry Potter nerd and we probably could have been friends if not for the reason that we just weren’t; and Guy 3, who was at the forefront of the stoner clique. Now, we all knew each other, and I know we were all aware of this quadruple birthday fiasco we had going on. And it wasn’t that big a school. Guy 1 was on the football team and was friends with my brother. Guy 2 had been the object of Tara’s discreet affection since elementary school. Guy 3 had dated my friend Kathryn at one point. We all knew each other. We had exchanged words. But we weren’t friends. We never so much as delivered a “happy birthday” on each other’s Facebook walls. Because this was a competition only one could win.
I haven’t seen any of those guys in two years. Well, except for Guy 1, but that was just a quick giving of the finger when he cut me off in the Wendy’s parking lot.
So now I just share my birthday with Abe Lincoln. And Jesse Spencer. Whoo boy. *fans self*
I spoiled Teen Wolf for Allison over dinner last night, which was unfortunate, but I consider it payback. She showed me a picture on Facebook of this guy who was cute in high school but now sports a really weird sideburns/pornstache situation. So she spoiled his face for me. I spoiled Teen Wolf for her. I consider us even.
Today is my Fake Birthday. Since I’ll be at school for my Actual Birthday, we celebrated today. We went out to eat, and my mom made this FANTASTIC CAKE, and then I forced everyone to watch recordings of Jeopardy with me. I got chocolate, cookies, and Les Misérables, the novel version… which I am so excited to finally read in its entirety.
All in all, it was an excellent Fake Birthday.
It was my friend Tara’s birthday, so Tara, Keira, Brianna and I all went out to lunch and then bowling. Since all of our combined skills range from “awful” to “likely to cause injury,” we all just derped around a little bit. For example, we all gave each other what we considered hilarious names for the screen showing our scores. I, for instance, was Joey Richter. Tara was Darren Criss. Keira wanted to be called Trudy, and Brianna was “Girl.” (Parks and Recreation reference alert!) Whenever one of us got the occasional strike, we brought the entire bowling alley to a standstill because we were so excited because it was just THAT occasional.
First we played next to these old guys that were extremely serious about their bowling. When they left, this pair of teenage guys came in and bowled like eight strikes in a row, making our gutter balls and granny shots look even derpier by comparison. Halfway through, Keira left at the same time Allison arrived and took the name Trudy. At one point, our machine that spits out the balls malfunctioned; bowling balls started bursting out and flying all over the place, and since we were sharing that machine with the guys, all of us were running around trying to grab the balls rolling around on the ground. After four games, we finally decided we’d done enough damage, and we gathered up our shoes and went up to the counter.
“Lane 23?” said the guy. “Name, please.”
“Elodie?” I said, confused, because I hadn’t given my name; then I made the connection. “Oh. Right, uh… Joey…”
“Rich-ter?” he said, pronouncing it like “rich” instead of “rick,” to which I nodded solemnly.
“Darren Criss,” Tara piped up, snickering.
“Trudy,” said Allison.
“Girl,” said Brianna.
Then we paid and ran out into the parking lot.
I went out with my cousins, Jase and Anna, and my brother, Alex, for Alex’s birthday the other day. It started off predictably enough—with Alex, Jase, and I failing fantastically at mini golf—and took a turn for the weird as soon as we hit the arcade. Alex and Jase were blessed by the arcade gods at birth and usually reel in plenty of tickets without spending much money (whereas I can waste fifteen bucks and come out with nothing but a pair of those Chinese finger traps). Jase and I gave all our winnings to Alex since it was his birthday (Jase’s contribution was a lot more impressive than mine) and we were all standing by the counter trying to pick out prizes when this middle-aged man approached us, promptly shoved three thousand tickets in my arms, and said gruffly, “Have fun.” We all stood there in shock for a moment. Then the guy came back and pointed out the phallic imagery of the lava lamps. And then he was gone, like some strange, inappropriate ghost.
“Did that really just happen?” sputtered Jase, who was actually on the ground laughing hysterically.
Then we raced go-karts. Anna spun out and the entire race had to be halted for fifteen minutes. Jase and I were told we had to “stop cutting off little kids.” All in all, quite a successful day, I think.