Monthly Archives: February 2010

Quesadilla Night

This is a few days late, but thursday night was our (mostly) weekly quesadilla night at Brower.  The dining hall saves us from a line of bad food for one glorious night to serve us delicious quesadillas.

Sadly, Ilana missed this week’s mexican feast.  So I made sure to take a picture for her.

We are beautiful people.

Sam, Juli, and James take a lovely photo…

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It is STILL snowing.

The amount of snow that has fallen over the course of this winter in New Brunswick is insane.  At first, it was beautiful.  The snow began falling one saturday during exams at the end of the fall semester last december.  Now snow is falling in biblical proportions this month.  Since when did I live in such a tundra?

Today’s snow fall was just annoying.  Classes were canceled after sixth period (which means…after 4:30pm for college ave. classes).  But I much would’ve rather just had my classes, and no snow.  The snow didn’t even have the balls to BE SNOW.  It was wet, slushy, and dirty.  It stuck to my jacket, turning my NorthFace into something similar to wet polar bear fur.

and besides, I don’t even mind going to Labor Relations in Professional Sports with Steve at 7:15 pm.  Every Thursday.  For three hours.  (Okay, I mind the three hour part.  Two hours would be perfect.)

Especially tonight.  We were scheduled to start Baseball!

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Werth-face

I didn’t know Gimli joined the Phillies for the 2010 season…

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Subtle Nuances.

Ilana has left me alone in this giant dorm room for six days.  She has been gone about 26 hours and I will admit it; it’s very lonely.  It’s almost as bad as if i were at home, where I live in a house basically by myself.

Aside from having no one to talk to in the room, Ilana leaving allows me to take notice to the subtle nuances in our room that make Casa de Ilana y Liz what it is.

So let’s begin.

Johnny Depp.

He gallantly watches over our room to make sure the rum is never gone.

This handsome face is posted above Ilana’s bed.  We are blessed with those gazing eyes every minute we are in the room.  And yes, if you take notice, I’ve added my own addition to the poster.  One of the Rolling Stone headlines reads “Michael Jackson on Trial”, to which I responded “Too soon?”  Yes, too soon indeed.

The Never Ending Recycling

Our mothers would be so ashamed…

It is truly a travesty that Rutgers housing supplies us with the smallest recycling receptacle known to man.  The university pushes us to recycle and this is all they can do?  Look at how much water we drink!  Okay, maybe I’m making excuses for this overflowing pile of plastic and glass.  But honestly…it is a trip up and down four flights of stairs to the trash room.  It becomes a big deal when we take out trash out.

Orion

Orion is a tangible memory of one of our greatest nights at Rutgers

Orion the Patio Chair has been with us since November of 2009.  He’s been all over New Brunswick.  We “stole” him from some house on Lafayette Street.  Carried him to the next party, where patio chairs were not allowed (What is this? I thought Martin Luther King Jr marched for chair equality years ago?!) so we stashed Orion right outside.  Fortunately for us, Orion was there when we returned.  And also there when we returned from the next two parties he waited patiently outside of.  Orion was named very aptly.  While I carried him around the city, I found myself admiring the stars as I normally do.  And which constellation do I always see first?  Orion’s Belt.  Thus, Orion was born.  This chair will come with Ilana and I to our house next semester.  The only question is…who keeps him for the summer?

Christmas Lights

I nearly broke my neck taping these up

Ilana wanted Christmas lights up in the room.  So I told her, if she got them, I’d put them up.  Viola!  A festive room.  They add calming ambiance to the room.  Although they come loose from time to time and I’m forced to re-tape them, it’s no big deal at all.  One must sacrifice life and limb for fashion…or whatever.  (Keep in mind: Ilana is Jewish.)

The Radiator

This thing emits fire, I swear to you.

In our room, there are two radiators.  One behind Ilana’s bed, and the other right next to my chair at my desk.  Come winter time, Housing turns the heat on.  Now, at first you’d think “How sweet of them! No one wants freezing students!”  Yes, this is true.  But no one wants burning, heat-stroke victims either.  This radiator-from-hell breathes fire.  Before I’ve learned its ways, I used to burn my right arm on this every night.  The metal is searing hot.  I have not closed my window above it yet.  I need the cool air to balance out the devil’s breath that comes out of this machine.

So that is our room in a nutshell.  Not really.  But it is a list of the every day things that casually go unnoticed.  I think everything deserves their fifteen minutes of fame at least.

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Things I wish I could do…

Aside from finishing the article I must write for my news reporting class, here are some things I wish I could do:

sing.

run fast.

bat lefty and righty

play piano.

project my voice.

cook intricate dishes.

have patience.

throw a football.

bend my right knee entirely.

surf.

play guitar.

speak without stuttering.

bounce a quarter into a shot glass/cup in one try.

meet my dad’s parents.

dive into a pool.

do a handstand or a cartwheel.

live in a big city.

buy my own car.

finish this article.

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Chewbacca? Mufasa? Wolverine?

Since this wolf man has been with the Phillies, I’ve been borderline obsessed with him.  Let’s not forget the grand mal seizure and subsequent strokes I had out of excitement when I heard rumors that Jayson Werth was moving to my town.  He and J.A. Happ have been the top two in my book–with Happ edging out in front due to the fact that he is not actually married.

So I find it only fair that I submit my opinion on the disasterpiece that has grown on this outfielder’s handsome face.

Werth's new 'do.

Yes, he’s still quite handsome.  I will give him that.  He’s still got those big, beautiful eyes.  And he’s simply a well-rounded player.  One of the top hitters for the fightin’s–36 homeruns, 99 RBIs last season.  No amount of hair will take those facts away.

But what happened to this man during the off-season?  Clearly…NOTHING. He’s seems to have gone months without any type of grooming.  His child must be terrified of him.

the similarities are just uncanny


I can’t help but worry that at one point in any particular game, the right fielder may get too angry over a rough call, and pounce on the first person he sees.  I fear for fans who sit in right field 102-106, god knows how many night games fall on a full-moon.

I do find it a little ironic.  Last season, my brother’s girlfriend Jenna and I would continuously say Werth looked like a vampire.  With his direct eyes and oddly shaped teeth.  And now he has turned werewolf.  This man must be a closet fan of mythical teen romance novels.

Another clever reference I have come across is Jayson’s incredibly convincing portrayal of The Dude from “The Big Lebowski.

“Three thousand years of beautiful tradtion. From Moses to Sandy Koufax.”

I’m not quite sure I can agree with Mr. Lebowski and say that Jayson Werth’s rug really ties the room together.

In any case, thanks for emerging from hibernation to make it to Clearwater for Spring Training, Mr. Werth.  Now try not to eat any of your teammates, please.  Good thing Pedro Feliz is gone, he might’ve been a little too spicy for you.

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Really?

There are sequences of events that occur in certain points of your life that leave wanted to scream the question “Really?!”.  And I don’t mean in a good way.

Let me preface with just how lovely my day was going before the massacre began…

I left my 4:30 class, Gender/Race/Class in the Media, feeling good.  I’d just finished an exam I felt very confident about.  Next stop was my dorm to change quickly for the gym.

I consider myself an athletic person.  Post-Knee-Surgery-Recovery, I work out often.  I love to run, but it is far to cold for that here.  So I put on a T-Shirt and some spandex (I’ll admit, I think my butt looks nice enough to pull off the spandex.  There will be no lying here) and rush out the door for a fantastic work out.

My hopes were not shot down.  The workout was indeed great, and that even includes the creepy gym regulars I catch watching me.

6:11 p.m. – Chaos ensues.

I realize I’ve forgotten my key.  Ilana has class at 6:10, so the door is locked and I am screwed.

In any other case, I would’ve simply stayed at the gym a little longer.  Worked on my hammy’s or triceps, treated myself to some extra calorie burning.

HOWEVER, today I had gotten out of class early. Half an hour early.  I am normally at the gym til about 6:50.  No, not today.  Today I have exactly 80 minutes until Ilana is of out class.  Fan-effing-tastic.

First step to a solution?  Call Ilana.  I’ve forgotten my key before.  I had run to her classroom (three blocks away) and met her outside.

Ilana doesn’t answer.  3 missed calls.  She’s in class though, I completely understand.  Hey, I’m the one that’s locked out, not her.

At this point, I’m in front of her class building with no idea as to which room she’s in.  5 missed calls and a text.  Looks like I’m going to have to call campus housing.

I scurry the three blocks back to my building.  Mind you, it’s dark.  It’s cold.  I’m in spandex and a t-shirt.  I’m already tired from the gym, and getting over a cold.  My nose is running.  But hey, look on the bright side…I’m finally getting some outdoor running in.

Campus Housing is no help.  The woman kindly explains that it is after 5 p.m. (to which i wished to respond “Yes, I know, that’s why I’m calling you, and not the housing office”, but i politely refrained) and that she is in charge of the entire campus.  She had three people to get to before me.  It could be awhile.

While on the phone with her, I hear my phone beep informing me that Ilana must have finally seen my missed calls and texts.  She’s only fifteen minutes late, but like i said, I completely forgive her.  I thank the campus housing woman for her help (or lack there of) and hang up.

Ilana calls back again.  I explain that I am en route to her, along with apologizing plenty of times for making her do this for me once again.

Another healthy sprint to the classroom building–over hills and through snow–and there is my knight, or lady I should say, in shining armour Ilana, waiting patiently for me.

I apologize once again, she laughs.  Bless her soul.  I finally have a way into my room.

This is where it gets ugly.

It is already 6:45, I must get back to the dorms, shower and get dressed before she is out of class by 7:30 so we can eat.  By that time, we’re starving.  There’s no being late.

So I book it once again.  My legs are screaming in pain.  My hands are freezing.  My nose is like Niagara Falls.

The lone key slips out of my frigidly numb hands and falls into a pile of snow.

Really?!

Yes, Liz.  Really.

The key is just a key.  No lanyard.  No key chains.  Just a plain metal key.

Fantastic.  Start digging, Liz.

This is no ordinary pile of snow.  It’s big and it’s basically ice.  Yes, it’s cold.  But we already knew that.  I had been hoping the numbness would save me from the piercing cold snow.  But oh no, I was not given that luxury.

Alas!  After about three and a half minutes of digging…a Key!

I store it safely in the tiny pocket of my spandex and have just enough energy to make it back to my dorm in one piece.

I’m not sure which event I got more satisfaction out of.  The hot shower right when i returned, or blowing my nose into a soft tissue immediately after I entered my room.

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