Ooh la la

So I haven't posted in, oh say, forever. Kinda because when my time to post rolled around last week, the cat I've had and revered since childhood was put to sleep and that was the most scarring two days of my entire life and I wasn't even at home to witness it. So that pretty much sucked and now I refuse to love any other cat, which is going to be weird because that cat I've had for 2 years now is at home waiting for me. It's weird to have something that isn't just a pet that one loves, but is also kind of a last vestige of childhood go away. Now that I've graduated from college and am more or less working, my family has moved, my beloved pets have died, and now I'm moving back home. It's kind of odd because I suspect there will be a very different dynamic in the family. But that's a longer story for another time I suppose.

In other news, I've spent most of this and last week packing and saying my goodbyes. Last Friday I had the dress rehearsal for the Boston Camerata concert. That was also the day that Hobie was put to sleep, so at dinner Oliver shared a bottle of wine with me. And by shared I mean that we couldn't finish it and pawned it off on Alex and Brooke so that he and I would still be able to walk home. We then went back to my apartment in theory to watch the Grudge, which I seem to have misplaced, and watched instead Elektra. I'm not kidding when I say that it was the worst movie I've seen in a long time. Daredevil was at the very least coherent and enjoyable, though not a cinemagraphic masterpiece. Elektra, on the other hand, had gorgeous cinematography, but it didn't matter because the dialogue and storyline were so contrite and stupid that it was hard to focus on the pretty pictures. After it finished we all kind of sat in stunned silence for a few minutes trying to figure out where our last two hours went. Yeah. Not pretty.

Saturday was the actual day of the concert and it was fairly awesome. Better than I expected, not just Medieval music, but humorous moments as well. Although I would argue that all in all it was really well put together, the "tech" rehearsal before the actual performance was like pulling teeth and I was pretty confused by the end of it. One of the singers is married to the director Joel Cohen, so there was a goodly amount of arguing between the two of them that probably wouldn't have happened with another singer. Also, his wife was so absurdly anal that I can't really conceive of where her mind was. She kept suggesting things that, twould it been me, I would have completely thrown by the wayside in the interest of time. But, as I said, the concert turned out well and there was cake afterward though we didn't stay for any. At least we got free cheese.

Other than that there's not a whole lot going on besides the general packing. Because I've been busy and/or sleeping for most of this week, no crazy people have had the time to accost me, though there were a few moments on the T when I could see the gleam in someone's eye. That's what ipods are for. Also, Emily sent me an article today that basically states that emoticons are the harbinger of the Apocalypse. Yes. Yes they are.

I just ate half a cake and I'm going back for more

So yesterday morning I hop on the bus for my morning commute and am sitting in the surliest manner I can muster in my sleep deprived state, when we pull over to let on about thirty 10 year olds. Typically in the morning there is a deathly silence on my morning bus. Except that one time when the crazy lady yelled at every bus that was not the one she wanted. That was awesome. At any rate, the noise level in the bus immediately skyrocketed, which was okay with me since my brain hadn't woken up yet anyway. After about 5 minutes I begin to pay attention to the little scamp sharing a seat with me who is talking to his buddy in front of him. Basically, the kid is talking about astronomy, white dwarf stars, galaxies, the sun, etc. It's sorta cute even though he's just a little know-it-all trying to impress his slighty dumber friend. Eventually he left off of talking about the history of the sun ("It's, um, 10 BILLION years old") and began to recite the diameter of all the planets, which was not so cute. Before he switched to then reciting the difference in the diameters of different planets, I noticed that switched from using miles to kilometers but the proportions were the same. I also noticed that his slighty stupider friend did not notice. Oh the follies of youth.

Oooooooooh, just now I was reading some correspondance that I suppose I shouldn't have really been looking at. Except that you really do have to read the longer letters because sometimes they're requesting stuff and whatnot. It's such a catch 22 working in admissions, you're not supposed to look at anybody's information because that would be violating their privacy more than it already is. But if the processors don't weed out from the mail what really does need to garner attention, than nobody's requests would be fulfilled. So you'll have to forgive me that I retell part of it here. Somehow I don't think that the girl who wrote this letter is going to be reading my blog. Call it a hunch.

Anyway, it was basically a request for reconsideration followed by what she considered to be convincing evidence that she really wants to be a lawyer: namely, a contract with her boyfriend. In my personal opinion, this kind of "contract" lends itself to all kinds of wrong. And so it did. This girl, let's call her, oh say, Kristen, wrote a contract to her boyfriend we'll call Peanut. No really, Kristen and Peanut's contract. I hope that's either a pet name or that he hates his parents. At any rate, her "contract", which she *submitted to Harvard Law School*, includes such gems as requesting that Peanut not smoke or go to Atlantic City, having Peanut try harder to get an erection and orgasm so as to protect the delicate fragility of Kristen's ego, have Peanut practice a religion because otherwise his soul will be damned and Kristen will be sad, requested that Peanut not talk to, kiss, or hug other girls, have Peanut stop judging Kristen for not wanting to be a girlie girl, etc. Also, I'm pretty sure Peanut cheated on Kristen and calls her primarily for booty calls. And he also appears to cancel dates for card games. I don't want to break Kristen's heart, but I'm not sure that a "contract" of demands is really what's going to save the relationship. Sort of like calling him Peanut in a contract that you send to a bunch of law schools.

Speaking of relationships doomed for failure, I think that Tara got married to set me up on a date. I'm flattered and her friends are hot, but somehow the fact that they live in different states makes me not really want to be as smexy as possible around them. Although I had a fun time subtlely flirting with them. It was like my own little project for the wedding. That and learning how not to hate life when I was hung over. And I ended up having at least 5 new dandies of a bruise on my person from various and asundry stupid crap I did like falling off of a boat and running into a brick wall. Also, as a total nonsequitor, Caroline's cat, which I am taking care of now, totally watched me shower yesterday. Creeeeeepy. That's a bad mew!!

Grammar is for wusses

Oh the stories I have to tell. Alas, I feel that many of them won't be very funny since you kinda had to be there, but I'll try to relate what I find most amusing from the past week or so. I am at present home for the long awaited wedding of my friend Tara to beau Tracey. My first action when I got back was to go purchase a properly unsavory gift for her. Instead of putting thought into what could be a lovely wedding gift, I opted to go to a few "novelty stores" and pick out some classy gifts such as pink furry handcuffs, classic porn (we fast forwarded through Debbie Does Dallas - four words: ew and more ew), a "lover's kit", and, naturally, a vibrator shaped like a rubber duckie. Of course, all of this violates my preferred wall that I keep in place in terms of the sex life of my friends. Don't. Want. To. Know. But, hey, I got into the spirit of things. For her actual party we went out to Jen's lakehouse, swam around, got lake water in my bacteria infested retinas, managed to avoid tossing each other off of the sea doos, made dinner, and then got smashed on sangria and some horribly sketchy margaritas. The obligatory penis cake was made and presented, as well as penis gummies and a lollicock. It's kind of like Christmas, but with a very staunch emphasis on "penis". And with only women. And bad porn. Okay so it's not like Christmas. Shut up.

In more unexciting news, we went by DQ twice, once on the way there wherein I received a jar of pickles that just happened to be surrounded by a burger. On the way back I asked Jen to order me just a burger with ketchup to avoid the horror of the pickle incident.

Meg: Hey, don't get any pickles this time. If I eat one more I'll puke.
Jen: Hi, I'd like to order a burger with ketchup and extra pickles.
Meg: Uhhhh...
Jen: A lot of extra pickles. Like, really, a ton of pickles.
*punches Jen in the arm repeatedly admist laughter from the backseat*
Meg: God I hate you people.

Then when I got home I slept and told my parents about watching porn, which was met with much awkward silence. There will be more about Tara's wedding and the general festivities, but I wanted to take this moment to rehash some important correspondance that I received at HLS late last week. I was reading more letters from high schoolers and below that just kinda want info from the law school, paraphanalia, etc. One of my favorite sentences was, "I am interested in your school because I am very persuaded to making it there, because I want the best education." I have no idea what that means. None. Zero. But, my favorite letter of all time is what I shall close with below. I have copied it verbatim from the letter we received, except for not including his last name. It is truly amazing. Clearly, the poor boy is foreign, but really? THAT foreign?

To Whom it May Concern:

I, Bobby want to be in your law school. If you may let me in your school I will respect my peers and be willingly to learn. Please, if you may send me back some information about your school like the population you have. I want to see some of brochures if you can send them.
Can if you may see that I really want to participate in your school? Why the school is have different parts like a law school and than a medical part? Can you tell me why that has happened? Oh yeah, also, can you send me some catalogs and an enrollment application, so then I then might come here to visit or I might can come in your school and be in your school. I heard that I you have to have a lot of money to come to school?
Thank you, Bobby N.