the signature thing

So I decided to go back to friends-only posts, at least for the time being.  It seems like a good idea, as I'm looking for internships and whatnot and I just can't seem to stop myself from getting in blog-related trouble.  So, if you're like "Why has Julia posted in forever?" try signing into your account.  Or, maybe I'm just being some combination of lazy and busy.

I should be sleeping instead of blogging, since there's a lot to do this weekend and I plan on being as productive as possible.  My biggest, number 1 priority is to send in applications to at least 5 internships;  I wrote all these cover letters two weeks ago but never went back to edit them, because I'm the least driven person on the planet.  Part of me is telling myself, "Time is running out, it's going to be summer before you know it and all the internships will be gone," and the other half is like, "Uh, you'll find something.  People post new internships on Careernet every day, and if worst comes to worst I can just tell my parents I'll be working for this really new magazine that no one's ever heard of and will end up folding in August before an issue ever comes out."  I'm trying to listen to the first voice.

I also need to maybe start looking at apartments with Ryan (more on that soon), read Kipling's Kim and E.B. White's This is New York, do a rough draft of my Brit Lit essay (I must also resist the temptation to skip the draft, since I wrote the entirety of the last paper at 12-4:30am the night before it was due and still got an A-, so obviously I'm going to be able to coast off my TA's goodwill from the first pretty decent paper and the midterm), see a play with Danielle, and hopefully enjoy some of this ridiculously beautiful spring weather.  You guys:  it's gorgeous here.  I just can't stop talking about how beautiful it is, because I'm sort of a freak about the weather.

I realized today that this is the first time in my life that I have no idea when the next time I'll be home will be.  I mean, I'm planning on finding a week or two this summer to come back to Arizona, but what if the scheduling just doesn't work out and I can't make it?  Then the next time I could be home would be Thanksgiving and even that isn't definite because Ryan was talking about cooking a big turkey dinner like he did last year, and I would hate to miss that.  So... Christmas?  I'm sure that won't happen, but you never know.  Not that I'm at all homesick right now.  I think I've gotten to the point where I don't associate Scottsdale as where all you guys are;  maybe spending spring break basically alone has finally corrected my brain into thinking of Andrea being in New Zealand, Alex in Virgina, Garrett in Boston, Steph in Tucson, etc. 

What happened the first time you were left home alone as a child?
Submitted by Warhead.

My mom loves to tell this story.  I was maybe three or four, and my mom had to run to the YMCA just a few blocks away to pick up my sister, and I insisted that she could leave me home alone for five minutes.  "MOM, go, I'll be ok!"  So she finally gave in, and when she pulled into the driveway and opened the garage door, she saw me, standing in the garage, with tears pouring down my face.  My mom says that she was sure I was scarred for life, never to recover from her abandoning me for those five minutes.

After getting my schedule all worked out and making a list of the call numbers and what not, it occured to me that maybe I should pick some back-ups.  The Short Story seminar is just 12 people, and while I do have a very early registration time, it's definitely possible it could fill up.  But the other class I want to take, the British Comedy, is at the same time as Representations of Women, and I don't want to take a seminar I'm not passionate about... I guess I could take both Reps of Women and Post-Colonial Lit;  I don't know if that's be too much critical theory, but it could be interesting.  I don't know, we'll see tomorrow.

So this was a good weekend.  Danielle and I decided that Thursday was going to be Dress Up Day, so she wore her new black drop-waist dress and Prada stripper platforms, and I wore my super low-cut black dress I bought in Laguna Beach and my purple heels.  It was super warm, a totally gorgeous day, but I felt pretty silly walking around all sweaty in such nice clothes.  I did get hit on by random street dudes more times than I did for the past three months, though.  During my Brit Lit lecture I thought to myself, "You know, it's way too nice out to spend another hour and 15 minutes in class.  I'm ditching my recitation."  So I went to Kimmel to pick up a movie pass to this week's screening of Forgetting Sarah Marshall, two copies of the West 10th lit magazine my poem is in, and then went shoe shopping.  I didn't get anything at DSW;  there was a pair of t-strap platforms I was eyeing, but I wasn't in love with them so I left them behind.  Then I walked the rest of the way home in my heels, since I'm totally determined to get feet of steel, even if it leaves the balls of my feet a blistery, misshapen mess.  I've definitely improved on the pain front, but I still feel a little unsteady walking in heels over 3 inches.  I want to get to the point when walking in heels is just as natural as walking in sneakers, whereas now I have to think about every single step in order to keep moving.

I hung out with Danielle  in our room for part of the afternoon, just reading and enjoying sitting on my bed with the window open.  Did I mention that we did some furniture rearranging?  Now, instead of our beds being on opposite walls, mine's against the outside wall forming an L shape with Danielle's bed.  I did it because a few times I've pushed my bed over to her side of the room so we can stay up talking and then sleep side by side (I know, we're totally lesbian lovers), but then in the morning I feel really awkward not having a wall to lean against.  And now I can use that space to my right, between my bed and the wall, as a nightstand, whereas before it was behind my bed where I put the big pillows I steal from Danielle to make myself cozy during the day, but don't use at night.  I have a desklamp, my journal, book journal, and book, the wooden tulips I bought in Prague, and other random things.  I love it.  If you want to see a photo, check my Photo A Day in April album on Facebook either later tonight or tomorrow.  There's an early one of Danielle studying with the original layout, and one I took today (of Danielle, Ryan and Tim napping during Batman Begins) of how it is now.

After Danielle went to rehearsal I decided it was a total waste to stay inside any longer, so I walked over to Border's and bought a book of crossword puzzles.  I challenged Ryan to a crossword race, but he will totally kick my ass if I don't start training a little harder.  While I was waiting in line at Border's this pretty cute guy hit on me, I think, but he was definitely in his 30's and I just can't do it.  It still made me feel nice, though;  I definitely prefer a short conversation in line at the bookstore than a homeless man shouting, "Oh, BABY!" as I walk by (true story).  While I was out I picked up some things at the grocery store, because I decided to make cookies in honor of the Office returning.  I used the recipe on the back of the Ghirardelli chocolate chips bag, but they didn't turn out as well as my last batch.  They got really, really hard after they cooled, but a mediocre cookie is still a cookie, so it was ok.  Ryan came over to watch TV, and I have to say that the Office episode wasn't my favorite.  Way too much Jan, especially since the last episode, the Deposition, had a lot of her too.  But it did make me want to start calling everyone "babe."  

On Friday I spent most of the day doing my laundry-- I needed four machines just to get it all clean.  I had plans to meet Merrell for dinner, but when Ryan said he and Tim were making a Shake Shack run, I couldn't say no.  So I went with them to Madison Square Park and got a pretty excellent burger and fries.  I restrained myself from getting a milkshake, too, but next time I'll definitely go for it.  After dinner number 1, I headed down to Broome and Merrell and I went to a Mexican place nearby.  I wasn't very hungry but I still managed to devour a plate of chips and guacamole and a basic salad.  Merrell's so sweet;  I'm glad I've kept in touch with at least one of my friends from Prague. 

After I got back to the dorm I went over to 26th St to hang out with Ryan and Yeison.  We did the EW TV Trivia quiz (Ryan beat me by 3 points!  If only I had successfully matched the 90210 character with their trauma, I would have beaten him), watched some TV, and Ryan tried to teach me some strategies to be better at poker.  I'm not sure how much they sunk in, but now I know not to go all in on a pair of threes.  We also ordered pizza, so my dinner total for Friday night was 3.  Then, for whatever reason, we played War until four in the morning.  War is actually a really good game to play when you want to just hang out and talk to someone, but eye contact freaks you out.  You don't really need any skill or brain power, you can repeat the one motion of flipping your card over, and there's plenty of opportunities for trash talk.

On Saturday I did basically nothing-- went to the gym, then sat around doing nothing.   At night I went with Tim, Ryan and Yeison (are you guys totally sick of hearing about these guys?  Are you like, why doesn't Julia hang out with anyone else?  Well, too bad, I'm too lazy to make new friends) to a mexican restaurant near Union Square that's always really festive and loud, and I got a bomb quesadilla and some really salty margaritas.  I've been drinking a lot of margaritas this semester, it seems.  Anyway, afterwards we walked Tim to the bus stop and decided to hit some classic NYU bars.  Josie Woods is right down the block from the main academic building and it has the reputation of being a magnet for drunk freshmen.  None of us had ever been, so we tried to check it out but the guy guarding at the door wouldn't accept Yeison's ID (which used to be his cousin's, but actually looks a lot like him).  So we moved on to Asian Pub, which was literally 100% NYU students.  I saw my freshman year RA there, but no one else I knew.  We got a table, some drinks, some calamari, and I proceeded to get surprisingly shitfaced.  Yikes. 

I was done with the drinking, so instead of hitting another bar we went to see Emily, who lives in the Second St dorm nearby.  I was disappointed that her roommate wasn't there since Emily always bitches about how crazy she is, but seeing her room (which was way cleaner and cuter than mine) made me feel so lucky to have the room I'm in now.  She's in a two-person studio too, but they don't even have a full-size fridge and their beds are bunked.  I guess that's the tradeoff between living so close to campus and then having a lot more space.  Oh, how I'll miss this room.  I remember being disappointed when I first walked in, but now I totally love it.  The other day a girl knocked on my door asking if she could peak inside, since she was doing room selection and wanted to be more informed.  I was like, "Yes!  Come in!  Let me give you the tour!  Look at my closet!  This room is so amazing I want to take it out behind the middle school and get it pregnant!"  She seemed less enthusiastic, though.  Anyway, Alex and Alisha joined us at Emily's, and we watched parts of Independence Day on the internet and played the corresponding drinking game (drink whenever Jeff Goldblum says something science-y, whenever Will Smith punches someone, etc).  Well, they played the game and I kept asking when they were going to play Aerosmith, since I kept forgetting we weren't watching Armageddon, and then I dozed off in Emily's bed.   I think if I were to sum up this semester in one phrase, it would be "sleeping in other people's beds."

So we took off around 2 (see, that's what happens when you start drinking too early-- it's midnight and you're like, "Can I go home and pass out now?") and walked all the way home, me in my cork wedges, Ryan in his perpetually untied shoes, and Yeison jumping up into trees and shit.  Oh yeah, and I kept trying to convince one of them to slap me, just because I thought it would be funny if I could actually be that persuasive.  They didn't, though.

This morning I woke up early, for no reason, and immediately chugged a bottle of Gatorade (they were 99 cents at Duane Reede and I was like, "I'm getting as much as I can carry, because I plan to be hungover a lot between now and the end of the semester") and felt better.  I worked on planning my schedule for next semester, then spent like an hour looking up nearby restaurants serving breakfast burritos.  But by the time Ryan and Tim had gotten up, my stomach didn't feel quite up to the breakfast burrito challenge.  Them, me and Danielle went to Moonstruck Diner, which was very cute but with not great food.  I did get some pretty decent bacon, but my omelette was so underwhelming that I sort of wished I had just gotten two sides of bacon and no main dish.  But having hungover breakfast meals on Sundays will always be fun.

Afterwards, everyone agreed they didn't want to do any homework so they came back to our apartment and we watched Batman Begins.  Well, I should say that I watched Batman Begins, because as previously mentioned everyone fell asleep.  I wanted to join the napping party, but I just couldn't fall asleep.  How ironic is that:  me, the queen of the nap, not being able to participate in the group siesta.  Tragic.  After the movie ended Tim and Ryan woke up, while Danielle slept for another 3 or 4 hours (I thought she might have lapsed into a coma).  We hung out and talked about men's watches-- watch for that post on the fashion blog in the next couple days-- then went our separate ways to do homework.  I read a little, then was finally able to take the nap I'd been craving.  After Danielle finally woke up around 9, we headed to the gym for the Late Sunday Night Workout Sesh that's becoming part of our roommate routine.  Palladium is open until 11 on Sundays, so it's sort of a nice way to get prepared for the upcoming week.

I had this moment today when I realized, "Hey, I need to register for next year's classes tomorrow."  Oops.  I definitely left that a little late.  And I'm trying to coordinate with Hannah so we can take a class together, and I'm terminally indecisive, so it's all a bit of anxiety that I don't need.

But here's what I've got:  I need to take a cinema studies class, but the seminar on the film musical is for majors only, and I haven't even declared my minor yet (I need to get on that).  There's also a Screening Shakespeare class, but I'm pretty much only interested in adaptations set in high school with teenagers, not adults fawning around in tights.  So I think I'm going to go for Genres: American Horror since 1960.  It's taught by the TA I had in my first film class, who I sort of had a crush on and thought did a pretty good job.  Horror isn't my favorite genre of all time, but it's pretty enjoyable and should keep me awake on this Monday night class.

Then for my English classes, I have to take one critical theories and methods, and then one seminar (although I could just take a random English elective and save the seminar for next semester).  I sort of want to take Intro to Post-Colonial Studies for the first, although Hannah is saying that it doesn't fulfill the requirement.  She wants to take Representations of Women, which could be fine, and I'd probably be able to draw on what I've learned in the Gender and Sexuality class I'm taking right now.  But will it just be more of the same stuff that I've already been taught?  I guess any awful class would be worth it just to get to see Hannah twice a week and have someone to study with, to stay up late talking on AIM with on the nights before papers are due, and to poke me when I start falling asleep. 

If I take Representations of Women, then I can't take Post-1900 British Comedy, which is one of the seminars I'm trying to decide between.  The title alone makes me hope for a lot of Monty Python, but I'm worried it'd be the sort of old British humor that normal people don't find funny.  Plus, there isn't a professor or course description listed, so I can't really get an idea of what we'll be covering.  The other class I'm interested in is American Short Story, which is on Tuesday mornings between 9:30 and 12:15.  I'm not a fan of block classes that early in the morning, but I've always been a fan of the short story form and I saw on ratemyprofessors.com that this prof isn't very demanding of participation. 

Finally, for my elective, I'm finally getting up the nerve to take Writing the TV Sitcom, a class I've been dreaming about for ages.  Ryan said that he thinks Kyle took that class,and said that everyone in that class were really bad writers, so that made me feel better that I won't be totally out of my league. 

So with that schedule I'm basically never going to be in class.  On Mondays, class from 2-3:15, then 6:20 to 9:50.  On Tuesdays, from 9:15- 1:45 if I get into the film recitation I want.  On Wednesdays, 2-3:15, then 6:30-8:55 (I'm going to definitely have to hook up Tivo if I'm going to have all these night classes).  Lastly, on Thursday, a recitation from 4:55 to 6:10.  So I'll have no Friday classes, almost all of Thursday free, and nothing until 2 on Mondays and Wednesdays.  I really do want to have an internship (although I say that every year), or even work, so it'll be good that I won't constantly be in classes.  Hopefully there won't be too much going on on Monday and Wednesday nights;  I told Ryan that senior year I want to go to every single NYU sponsored event, from basketball games to formals to the Strawberry Fest.  I am going to participate my heart out, and drag those boys along with me whether they like it or not.

I know this is corny, but I feel like I'm in a second Golden Age of my college years.  I've always (and I realize that "always" in this context is more like "a year and a half," but go with it) idealized freshman year as the best, happiest time of my college experience.  There was Dana, Alex and Devon on one hand, plus the boys right down the hall, and being roommates with Hannah and spending time with her and Victoria.  There are other things, like doing well in my classes and having Scholars under control, but mostly I was happy because my social life was so good.  I know that if I went back and reread those freshman year blog entries, or even dug a little deeper into my memory, I'd be reminded that Dana was a psycho and there could be some girl-on-girl bitchiness and Hannah's friends were so awful and our dorm room was always a mess and the boys could be flakey-- but compared to the social abyss that was sophomore year, live in Third North was paradise.  And I thought that it could never be matched, that I'd never be as happy as I was when all my favorite people lived just a few feet away. 

But I might just be happier now.  I can't gush enough about living with Danielle-- when I got home from class tonight we sat together in the kitchen and went through Lucky Magazine pointing out each cute outfit.  She's going to be the roommate against which all future roommates will be judged, and I doubt anyone will be able to compare so we better live together again.  And having Ryan, Yeison and Tim just a block away (and being able to swipe into their dorm) is so convenient.  Today I caught the same bus to campus as Ryan and Tim, and as I walked up to them at the bus stop Tim said, "When we get to campus, you're coming with us."  I thought that maybe they were going to bomb a science lab or go streaking or something, but I agreed anyway.  And when we got off the bus and I took a few steps towards my class, Tim said, "Nope, you're coming with us."  So I followed them across the street... and into McDonalds for some breakfast.  I already ate so I just got some chocolate milk and sat with them for ten minutes, but it was still a really nice, sweet thing.  I love being included, being asked to do things, and knowing that if I ask others to do things they'll say yes (I won't shut up about going bowling, and I'm determined to do it before the end of the semester). 

It's not perfect-- I wish that I saw Ariel more, and that Kyle was in the country, and that I kept in better touch with my Prague friends, and that I hung out with more girls in general.   But I'm getting the feeling that overtook me two years ago, when I absolutely dreaded the end of the semester because it meant the end of something really, really good.  And in a little more than a month, Danielle will go home, Ryan will move off campus, Tim will go to New Mexico, and we'll all have to work a little harder at having so much fun together.  Ah, I have a feeling that next year I'm going to be like, "why the hell did I not try to live with Kyle and Ryan?  I would be so much happier!"  But maybe not.  I'm not going to think that far ahead, and just concentrate on making the summer as awesome as possible.  Speaking of, I have cover letters to edit and send in...

I totally failed to mention in my last post about literary dealbreakers that I basically broke up with a guy because he spoiled the ending of Harry Potter.  How did I forget that?

Last night I slept in Yeison's bed.  Danielle's falling asleep in my bed right now.  On Thursday night, after drinking beer and playing poker, all of us took turns shaving Tim's head.  I got A's on three of my midterms.  I wrote four internship cover letters yesterday.  It's an incredibly beautiful day today.  My dad's in town.  There's been ridiculous amounts of text messaging going on between me and my two favorite people.  I'm obsessed with "If You're Into It" by Flight of the  Conchords.  I'm kind of slacking on the blogging, so big props to Andrea for picking up the slack.  I started writing in a real journal, the first time since the plane ride home from Prague.

I'm sure you guys saw the article in the NYT about literary dealbreakers.  Do you think it's a weird coincidence that they published "It's Not You, It's Your Books," almost exactly a year after an article called, "It's Not You, It's Not Your Apartment"?  I mean, that's kind of suspicious, right?  Maybe the NYT underestimated my long memory concerning fluffy, non-news related articles.  Last March I listed a few of my living-related dealbreakers:  not owning a TV, overly bare walls, no books, lack of clocks.  I think I'd be so happy just to meet a guy who likes to read that it wouldn't matter what book he loved.  I mean, I've read every Gossip Girl published, so who am I to judge?  I think the thing that would put me off is if he only read Dan Brown books over and over, or only read Ayn Rand, or thought anything published after 1850 is a waste of paper.  Reading narrowly could be a potential deal breaker, since it can signal a closed mind and unwillingness to try new things.  Reading and enjoying everything from Harry Potter to David Foster Wallace to Jane Austen?  That's the dream.

But if he thought that The Da Vinci Code was a legitimate piece of literature and not a fun, light, fast, trashy read, that would be an automatic deal breaker.  

Last week Danielle got out of the shower and immediately told me, "I decided something really important when I was washing my hair.  I'm never going to date a guy who's a bad dresser again."  As her list grew I grabbed the whiteboard in our kitchen and started writing down her list, and when she was done, she wrote down mine.  We have them posted in our kitchen to remind us as we eat breakfast to have high standards.  When the guys came over on Friday they immediately zoomed in on the lists and Tim pointed out that having these displayed in our kitchen might scare away guys.  I said, "Yeah, we'd have to take them down when prospective boyfr... uh, no offense." 

Anyway, for posterity's sake, here's my list of things I want in a boyfriend:
1. Doesn't text me when he knows I'm asleep or driving
2. Smells good (not like milk)
3. No condescending nicknames
4. Willingly reads the fashion blog
5. Reads for fun
6. Nice eyes
7. Makes me laugh
8. 90% of qualities are shared by Jim Halpert
9. Thinks I have good taste in music
10. Almost as smart as me but not quite
11.  Owns a yacht or a small boat

I don't know if it's just withdrawal from the writer's strike, but I am so in love with Greek it's not even funny.  It's so hilarious!  I love all the characters!  It depicts a college experience 180 degrees away from my own!  It really makes me look forward to Mondays, and I want to highly recommend it to everyone.  I just wish it wasn't on at the same time as How I Met Your Mother, but I can watch HIMYM online or download it, so I'm surviving.  I really need to have my mom send Tivo to me.

So, back to the weekend.  On Saturday Danielle woke me up way earlier than I would have liked so we could go to the flea market on Greenwich Avenue.  Yeison was still asleep in my bed, so we woke him up and told him to stay as long as he wanted, just let himself out when he woke up again.  I wrote about Danielle and my Saturday morning in the shopping blog, and after she went to rehearsal I returned to the dorm alone.  The first thing I noticed when I walked in was that Yeison was gone;  then I was like, "Wait, something's different.... oh my god, he cleaned the kitchen!"  Yeison is truly a man amoung boys, a god amoung men, a Zeus among gods.  He did all the dishes, including the fondue pot encrusted with rock hard cheese.  We made a giant mess the night before, and I felt like it was my birthday when I walked in and realized that I didn't have to clean it up.  I truly feel like I have the best guys at NYU for my friends;  there are so many douches running around Washington Square Park that I don't know how I managed to snag such sweet, genuine, smart and funny guys as my friends.

For the rest of the afternoon I watched the last 45 minutes of Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights, the first hour of a half of The Cutting Edge, an episode of Flight and the Conchords, then tried to go to the gym but got there 15 minutes after it closed.  I get points for trying to work out, right?  Then I spent like two hours getting ready to go to a party hosted by one of Danielle's friends.  The dress code for the party was either costume or formal, so I took it as an excuse to get all dolled up.  I curled my hair, put on lots of makeup, and wore the black mini-shift dress with beading embroidery that I got at a vintage store in Prague the day before I went home.  I met Danielle at the apartment a few blocks away by Grammercy Park; it was her parent's place and it was incredibly gorgeous.  Like five or six floors,  a little garden in the back, art everywhere, a room full of books!  It was worth going just to see how the other half lives.  But, no offense to Danielle's friends, it wasn't really my kind of party.  I think I need to know at least 5 people at any party if I'm going to have any sort of a good time.  So, after less than 45 minutes, I waved goodbye to Danielle and headed over to Ariel's to hang out with him, Kimmy, Ryan and Yeison.  They had this fruit-flavored hard cider that was delicious, and we watched Saturday Night Live and other random television shows, including part of Save the Last Dance.  See, I love when Kimmy goes to town (she's dating Ariel and goes to school in Boston), because I need some female backup and Danielle isn't always available.  Would the boys have let us watch half an hour of Save the Last Dance if I was the only girl there?  Doubtful.  But by combining feminine forces with Kimmy, we got to see Julia "Moonface" Stiles get in touch with her inner hip hop dancer!

On Sunday I watched more Conchords-- after the first episode I thought, "I don't know if this show is as funny as everyone says it is."  But after watching the episodes that are more Bret-centered, I got on board the Conchords Love Train.  Bret is so cute and not as annoying as Jermaine;  if he sang the "If You're Into It" to me I'd be totally into it.  Then Danielle and I went to Blockbuster to get the first two discs of the second season of Sex and the City.  Danielle never watched it, so it's going to be our spring project to watch as much as possible as fast as possible.  Girly?  Yes.  But I'm thinking this is going to be a light-on-female companionship summer, so I'm getting in as much quality time with Danielle as possible before she goes home.   In fact, we're watching Sex and the City right now!  We've watched 8 in 2 days;  don't judge us.

I didn't really do anything today;  class, gym (I don't know how much closer I'm getting to my 4 miles in 35 minutes goal;  it might be the time to really start pushing myself, maybe by not starting off with two minutes of walking or by adding an extra minute of running every time I work out), nap, filing all the dead skin off my feet, doing some reading for class, a series of trash-talking texts with Ryan concerning our respective crossword skills (I challenged him to a  crossword race, and he accepted), then Greek and SATC.  Now, I'll finish my Brit Lit reading and continue to get excited about the supposed high of 65 degrees there's supposed to be tomorrow.  I've been planning my outfit for days, but I might make a last minute substitution of skirt and sweater for the dress.  But it will involve my new blue and green bracelet, and my boots with the new gel insoles I cut up to size and put in last night.     

I should probably not be blogging right now, since I have done none of my reading for this upcoming week and, due to two late nights, I noticed some awful bags under my eyes this morning.  But it's been a good weekend. Friday morning I went and turned in my deposit check for summer housing.  So it's not officially official that I'll be staying in New York for the summer (that'll happen when I get a job or internship), but it's pretty close.  I also applied to be an Operations Assistant in my dorm, which means manning the front desk for a few shifts a week and getting free housing for the summer, but the girl there said they had pretty much hired everyone already.  So, that was disappointing, but maybe someone will flake out and I'll get their spot.  It's not like my parents won't be paying for it anyway, but I'd feel a lot better doing an unpaid internship or a not-that-impressive job if my parents weren't shelling out $250 a week. 

On Friday night Ryan, Yeison and Tim came over for fondue dinner.  I was kind of in a bad mood beforehand, because of my dorm assignment for next year and the OA thing and having to make three separate trips to the grocery store, Duane Reede, and the liquor store to get all the ingredients, and the gel insoles in my boots falling apart so it wasn't very comfortable to walk around in them.  But they came over, we started chopping and shredding and whatnot, and it got fun.  We made queso fundido, which was a mix of monterary jack, goat, and mozzarella cheese with peppers and chorizo-- basically Mexican fondue.  Delicious!  The plan was to watch Flight of the Conchords too, but we ended up just talking and playing Apples to Apples.  There may have been some part of the night that included watching online porn, but I don't want to talk about it.  After midnight Danielle and Yeison fell asleep in my bed (and they were the sober ones!), and Tim lay down in Danielle's bed, and Ryan and I went out onto the fire escape, which is my very favorite thing to do when drunk.  We walked down a little bit and saw that the people two rooms down where gone but left their window open and cookies on the table so... you can probably see where this is going.  It didn't take too much convincing for Ryan to steal the cookies ninja-style.  But they weren't very good-- they were the plan vanilla biscuit kind, with no cream filling or anything.   They were so dry and bland that after we ate half of them and didn't want anymore I made Ryan go out on the fire escape again and put them back. 

After that there was some more dancing, and because I'm ridiculous I went and put my purple heels on.  We danced, and around 3 or so Tim wussed out (that kid always gets tired so early, what's up with that?  Someone should educate him on the pre-party nap), but Ryan and I still had energy so... we went to a bar.  I don't even remember what the name of it was, but it was one of a million low-key, middle-brow bars in my neighborhood, although I remember them playing particularly good music.  The only specific song I can remember is Sweet Home Alabama, though.  So we had one drink each and talked and when Ryan went to the bathroom some other guy wanted to buy me a drink, but I knew another gin and tonic was a bad idea so I declined.  We left after 4, and on the way out got yelled at for leaving the door open behind us.  Whoops.  Oh, and they didn't card us!  Not getting carded is always a pleasant surprise.

Ok, time to read and sleep.  I'll tackle the rest of the weekend tomorrow.