Am NOT down with the sickness

I've been sick in varying degrees of severity since last Friday night, although the general pattern is that I feel alright during the day and then bad at night.  I guess this is still true, but its started to even out more.  Usually I can handle being sick, but this sickness is the devil. 

Remember when you were a kid and you were happy about being sick?  I mean sure you felt a little crappy and your energy level was a little lower than normal, but you got to skip school and sit on the couch watching TV all day.  It usually only lasted one day (or if your lucky two), but it was amazing just to lay around and do nothing while you knew all your classmates were stuck in school learning.  I always got left at home by myself so I had the added bonus of having the entire house to myself.  Those were the days. 

These days are nothing like that.  There is absolutely no up-side to this sickness.  Plus its lasting way too long.  I was ready to be done with it on Monday and felt very close to recovered, but that dream was snatched away from me when I realized I didn't feel well enough to leave the house that night for my weekly church group meeting. This particular sickness is holding on tight and refusing to let go.  It is something I can definitely live without. 

I wonder if there's someway to trick myself into getting better.  My current method of mercilessly attacking the sick with juice particles seems to be coming up short.... but that won't stop me from trying. 

Angela

My Brain Trust

After my Easter break from blogging everyday, I decided I wanted to post.  Note the transfer of power in that statement.  I decided to post, which means I now have the freedom not to.  However, after posting everyday for 46 days straight, I feel the desire to continue.  This just goes to further prove my belief that discipline builds character because it turns obligations into fun pass-times. 

So, after I decided to post, I gathered together my brain trust. 

My Brain Trust

After a heated discussion, they decided (like all selfish stuffed animals) that I should write about them and their impromptu meeting. 

It started like any other meeting.  I picked each one of them off of my shelf and gave them each a quick dusting.  Thief (the pink lamb) lamented being pulled away from his precious two-face coin and frog shaped stone.  I put him in charge on protecting them but, him being a thief and all, I'm pretty sure he's claimed them for himself.  I then pulled Garfield from a lower shelf and arranged them in a nice little circle. 

It was around this time that John walked back into the room and wondered aloud "what the hell I was doing".  I explained that this was my brain trust but didn't say what I needed it for.  He then gave me a look that said "you're fucking crazy but I'm not the least bit surprised". 

I just wish I had the rest of my brain trust with me.  Their circle would occupy the entire bed and with that kind of stuffed-animal-man-power at my disposal, no one would even dare think about calling me crazy, even with their eyes. 

So now that we've conquered this post, my brain trust and I are going to solve some serious problems like world peace, or teen pregnancy, or what to eat because I'm hungry. 

Angela

Day Fourtysix: Lent IS over

Well the 46 days of the "40 days of lent" is finally coming to an end.  I'm proud to say that I have posted everyday during this time.  Admittedly, one post felt like cheating because I posted some pictures and very few words, but other than that, I feel fairly proud of all of my posts. 

Does this mean that I am now finished and will never post again?  Hell.  No.  While I will definitely not be posting everyday anymore, this is only the beginning of my determination to write on a continuing basis.  I'm thinking 2 or 3 times a week will be good.  Maybe I'll even start working on a longer term project like a short story or short novel.

I feel like this whole experience has been a success.  I was really surprised by the amount of people who told me they have been reading my blog and the amount of people who harassed me when I would take too long to write it.  Accountability is a wonderful thing that I don't think we as a society value enough.  I think it tends to get pushed aside by our sense of personal freedom. 

So, until next time (but not tomorrow), HAPPY EASTER!

Angela

Day Fourtyfive: My BFF

Tomorrow is a milestone day for one of my favorite people in the universe, my BFF Brandi.  Tomorrow is the day that my best friend turns 21.  Brandi and I have been friends since I was 7 years old (and she was 4) and best friends since I realized that just because she was younger than me didn't mean she wasn't a super awesome person that I loved to hang out with all the time.  I'm not sure exactly what age that was. 

She used to live right next door to me which made it extremely convenient to get together and execute mischief.  There was a period in our lives when it wasn't even necessary to inform either of our parents that I was spending the night at her house on Friday, it was just assumed. 

I can't imagine what I would have done without Brandi.  Georgetown is a pretty boring place and we were 3 miles away from it with no transportation.  Our idea of going to town was catching a ride with her mother and renting a movie at the video store.  Sometimes we would also buy junk food.  Having her around made me forget what an unexciting place I lived in. 

Now that she's going to be 21, we can finally go to a bar together.  I don't know when that's going to happen but I'm excited. 

A visual approximation of what she looks like

I love you, Brandi. 

Angela

Day Fourtyfour: Babies

Today I pulled myself away from watching adorable kitties to take a walk in the park with John.  We ended up on the bridge, as we often do, that overlooks a river/ waterway/ junkyard (not really sure what it is/ is used for but there's trash in it).  There's a shopping cart that someone dumped in the water that we always visit but it was gone today.  The water was the lowest I've ever seen it so I know it wasn't covered like the last time I thought it was gone.  Even though it was trash, it was kind of sad. 

There was also a duck swimming around with her crowd of baby ducks.  They were so adorable, I asked John if we could keep one.  He said no.  I have no idea why.  I mean who could possibly say no to chasing after a duckling in trash-infested muddy water so that we can bring it home.  What kind of heartless person doesn't want a baby duck?  So I settled for going home and watching baby kitties play on my computer. 

This made me realize: baby anythings are adorable.  When have you ever seen a baby something and thought it was ugly?  That's right, never.  I don't think it's possible.  Babies are natures way of making sure the animals are cared for because no one would take care of a baby that wasn't cute.  They're loud, annoying, time-consuming, messy tyrants.  They have to be cute so that we'll continue to love them. 

Nature is an evil genius. 

Angela

Day Fourtythree: I'm Infectious

Recently I set up a blog for John.  He was inspired by me writing everyday and decided that it would be super awesome if he started a movie blog to write about movies because that's what he knows best.  I set it up about a week ago.  He finally wrote in it today. 

We had made a plan to go to Dimple's earlier today, so I was getting ready while he finished watching Resident Evil.  When I was finished and he was finished and I was ready to go, I offhandedly suggested that he blog about it because he was bitching about how much the movie sucked.  So he did.  Right away.  I tried to wait patiently while he was writing (passing some minor judgments on his grammar now and then to which he responded "I'm not finished!  Go away!"). 

When he had finally finished writing and going over every detail, he noticed what I had written in his bio section.  They were somewhat biased complementary things that he would probably never say about himself and that he ended up changing before he made his post.  That made me kind of sad.  I said some pretty nice things about him that no one will ever know about now.  I then proof read his writing and he posted it.  If you want to read it and you're not friends with him already on facebook, his post is here. 

He told me while he was writing it that I couldn't write my blog post about his blog post because that was cheating.  Then after we got back from Dimple and I was trying to think of something to write about, he suddenly contracted a case of amnesia and told me to write about his blog.  So I did.  

I'm super excited.  We're watching Bill and Ted now.  Maybe he'll write about that next. 

Angela

Day Fourtytwo: Better Than Porn

Live kittens... on my computer, whenever I want.  My life is complete. 

John introduced me to Live Kitten Cam only a short time ago.  It was his intention to keep me thoroughly distracted while he plays Mass Effect instead of working on his homework.  He then gathered picture evidence of his success in getting me addicted to internet kitties. 

Me being addicted to internet kitties

So I waited for him to settle down and gathered my own picture evidence of him being addicted to Mass Effect. 

John being addicted to Mass Effect

I then picture messaged the images from his phone to my e-mail account so I could put them on the internet.  I would be worried about him seeing this picture posted and getting angry, but he'll probably be in that position for quite some time so I at least have time to locate myself elsewhere.  Of course there's a high probability that I'll be too distracted watching kitties to remember to leave the room. 

So.... if you need me, I'll be watching kitties... FOREVER! 

Angela

Day Fourtyone: Lent's not over

Well it turns out lent is longer than 40 days.  Leave it to the Catholics to take a specific number like 40 and say it doesn't actually mean 40 days; it means 46 days.  Now I'm not entirely certain that this Lenten tradition started in the Catholic church, but they're the oldest of the Christian faith traditions (excluding Orthodox who, lets face it, are irrelevant no offense) so I'm blaming this whole incorrect number debacle on them. 

So today I've been living in what I can only describe as the twilight-zoneness of the 41st day of lent.  Because it was day 41, John and I went out to ice cream.  For those who aren't aware, John gave up take-out food/ eating out for lent which means I essentially gave it up to even though I never made an actual commitment.  My job has been to keep him away from take out food which has been loads of fun.  However, we decided that since 40 days doesn't actually mean 40 days, then not eating out doesn't actually mean not eating ice cream on this, the 41st day of lent.  It is cheating somewhat, but we felt the need to make a point to the Catholics.  I'm confident they got the message. 

I actually realized a few weeks ago that day 40 was coming sooner than Easter so I've been prepared for a while now.  This is just the first year I knew lent is longer than 40 days because its the only year I've been keeping meticulous track of each day by posting a blog.  Not only does blogger tell me how many blogs I have posted so far, I have also been self numbering each one with the alphabetic representation of each number.  

If anyone is curious as to why there are 46 days in the "40 days of lent", it's because lent is a time of repentance and all good Christians were required to do that on every Sunday anyway so they don't count those as part of the 40 days.  Also they knew I would one day figure all this out and wanted to give me an opportunity to rag on the Catholics.  They are one of the most fun groups to rag on in general.  Outside of groups, there's only one person I enjoy ragging on more and that is my father.  He also happens to be Catholic.  I doubt very much that this is a coincidence. 

I actually do like Catholics.  I'm not just saying that so that I won't be smited by the pope.  Okay, maybe a little bit.  That dude's scary. 

Angela

Day Fourty: Angela Trap

Today John and I were taking our somewhat daily walk around the park when we came across an obvious Angela Trap.  We were strolling down the sidewalk and I was going on about some topic and in the very middle of my sentence, without even pausing to indicate a subject change, I said "Oh my god, there's a kitty."  Naturally, me being me and all, I walked over to the cat who was lying underneath a tree and rolling in the dirt with the 'pet me I'm cute' look on her face, and I slowly inched my way up to the cat and began petting her.  She was a dark calico cat with no visible deformities or ailments who was very friendly and non-bitey. 

As I was explaining to John later, I don't understand why cats roll around in the dirt when they want pets.  It's like they're saying "Oh my gosh, look how cute I am, don't you want to pet me?  Oh wait, wait!  Before you touch me, let me just coat my fur with some dirt and twigs and pebbles and whatever else happens to be lying on the ground."  Of course, me being a giant sucker for cats, this does not deter me at all. 

Anyway, I'm petting the cat, and while I'm doing so, I am CERTAIN there were people waiting to attack me from somewhere close by.  They are probably the same people who drive the rape van, or least someone associated with them.  They were hiding in the park, waiting for me to see the cat so that they could make their move.  However, they did not emerge from their hiding place.  They were probably looking through their binoculars and just as they were about to attack, one of them noticed John and turned to the other one and said "Oh no, She brought her bodyguard with her today!  Abort mission!"  and they packed all their stuff into the van and left. 

So I got to pet the kitty in peace even though it was obviously a trap set up just for me.  This is why it is advantageous to have a boyfriend who is 6'8".  I'm just glad that they decided to set up the cat trap on one of the days he was with me because sometimes he leaves me to fend for myself (usually when he's at school). 

Angela

Day Thirtynine: St. Meinrad's

In my senior year of college, our class visited an archabbey in Indiana called St. Meinrad.  It's a monastery were benedictine monks live.  St. Benedict is probably the emo-y-est of monks because he is the patron saint of death.  I'm not sure how many emo Catholics are out there.  They must be a small minority. 

Pictured here is the chapel area where mass is heald.... 5 times a day.  One of said masses happens at 5 am.  Luckily we were not required to subject ourselves to such torture. 

This is the giant organ inside the church with what appears to be black Jesus standing on top. 

As we toured the grounds on the first day, my exploratory group and I came across this giant cross while skirting the outside of the dormitories.  At first glance, it seemed like a normal god-fearing, Catholic cross with its Catholic symbology and random Latin phrases, but upon further inspection, I discovered a disturbing secret. 

This cross is a Nazi sympathizer!  Now, granted it does look a little bit different, but this was too close for comfort.  Also I am certain it has nothing to do with the fact that this cross was probably made long before Nazi's even existed and the swastika was, back then, associated with something peaceful and probably pagan.  That can not possibly be the case.  It is more likely that this peaceful Catholic monastery is secretly in league with secret time traveling Nazi's from the 40's.  However, these Nazi's are kind of on the outs from the main Nazi party because they're not smart enough to draw their own symbol correctly... even though they were smart enough to prefect time travel.  But enough conspiracies, our party then headed into the most sacred place on campus. 

This is the graveyard.  Kris and I found this place to be very quiet and relaxing and thus returned here many times during our short stay (I believe it was about 3 days).  I fell in love with this place.  I saw a poster in the gift shop of Jesus photographed with the red gates in the foreground, so I tried to recreate it with this picture.  I think it turned out pretty well and for the longest time I kept this picture on my computer desktop to remind me of how good I felt just hanging out there.  Luckily there was no swastika related mischief going on in the graveyard so its reputation remains completely untainted. 

I hope to do back to St. Meinrad's someday to visit my pal Jesus.  We had some good times together. 

Angela

Day Thirtyeight: Distraction!

Today I am sitting on the floor next to the bed in a semi-secluded computer writing cave because I'm having trouble thinking about what to write.  John's on the bed watching Harry Potter which is majorly distracting when trying to think clearly.  It's like I'm trying to grasp for thoughts but they quickly slip away in a matter of seconds by the flashing imagines and captivating storyline on the "TV" (its actually a big computer screen).  This just proves that it's a FANTASTIC idea (intense sarcasm) to mix my less than stellar attention span with outside stimulation. 

Having said that, I realized something about Harry Potter today.  The movies don't really work for me.  I think its just too hard to mix the humorous narration of J.K. Rowling with the seriousness of the story into a pleasing combination.  I guess I enjoy watching them to see how they portrayed the story, but I'm not sure they really work.  I may be biased.  I do love to read.  It seems to be a dying pass-time. 

I think that'll be it for tonight.  My short attention span is kicking in and Ron's chocking on something.  It's hard to concentrate when people are chocking in the room, real or fictional. 

Angela

Day Thirtyseven: Cheap Candy

You know when I eat a piece of high quality chocolate from somewhere like Godiva, I feel satisfied, fulfilled even.  But when I eat two pieces of Milk Duds, even though the Carmel stuck my teeth together and made me tired from chewing, I have the sudden urge to eat an entire box.  Cheap candy is the devil and I am now convinced that they add some super addictive ingredient that assures you will never cease eating them.  They're just as bad as big tobacco. 

It is self aware

Speaking of which, I don't think big tobacco is as bad as everyone seems to think they are.  I mean, the media makes it sound like they eat babies for breakfast, pregnant babies that they abort right before they eat them.  But really, how much worse are they than every other company out there?  The only difference is their product kills people with cancer instead of obesity, lead poisoning, and soul-crushing dependence. 

However, candy is what I'm concerned about right now.  To further prove my point, since beginning this post, I have eaten one milk dud and anywhere from 8-15 pieces of frozen mini-charleston chews (delicious!).  The milk dud was an extra that didn't fit in with the spelling scheme that the pieces arranged themselves in when I dumped them out of the box.  They did it completely on their own with absolutely no help from me.  I know it's creepy. 

That box of charleston chews is going to be empty by 9 o'clock.  Mmmmm. 

Angela

Day Thirtysix: Impasse

As I've mentioned before, I've been playing a lot of Super Mario Brothers lately.  I'm usually able to make decent progress when I play especially with the handy "save state" feature in the programs menu.  However, I have come to an impasse.  I am trapped in a cave on chocolate island 4.  This is cruel and unusual; chocolate has always been so good to me but this particular chocolate cave is completely merciless. 

In the scene pictured left, Mario and Yoshi must together navigate the moving pieces of dirt over a sea of what I can only assume is deadly boiling chocolate.  But as you can clearly see in this picture, the screen is not big enough to see the moving pieces of dirt that Mario needs to jump to.  He has fallen to his death many times from blindly jumping down and hoping for some dumb luck, but has so far been unsuccessful as indicated by the second picture taken only moments after falling to his death. 

Unsuccessful attempt

It is unclear what kind of backhanded villainy is going on here, but this WILL NOT STAND!  Okay, maybe it will stand because there's really nothing I can do, but I'm not very happy about it.  I expect a certain level of difficulty from games, but this is just ridiculous.  It's like trying to find your way through a maze with a blindfold.  Sure, it might be possible but there's very little skill involved. 

Although I will say writing this blog about it has helped me a bit.  Taking the pictures caused me think about it long enough to realize that if I had a cape, I will have a better chance of landing on the moving piece of ground because I can fall slower.  I should write a blog about every problem I have.

Angela

[Update: SUCCESS!]

Day Thirtyfive: Nephew

This is pictorial evidence of shaggy haired Austin trying to hack into my computer and steal all my secret files.  As far as little boys go, he's definitely the most curious and shamelessly invasive character you will ever meet.  He would often sneak into my room with his adorable little boy act asking cute questions like "what are you doing?" and "can I play with you?" but the second you let your guard down, he's playing with the 3 dollar Elmo underneath the night stand.  Sure it might be a toy that my parents bought just for him so that he would have something to play with when he came upstairs, but before you know it he's also playing with my little stuffed animals that are like family members to me and even though I warn him not to leave the room with them, they somehow end up underneath the couch cushions downstairs. 

During this particular incident, no amount of red stuffed animals could distract him from the shiniest toy in the room, my laptop.  The second he walked into the room, he just had to figure out what it could do.  I'm pretty sure he just ended up moving the cursor around which was followed by a bunch of penguins on the personalized Google homepage, but I'm confident that given a couple more years, he could come up with some real mischievous mischief to accomplish on that computer.  He's halfway to those couple years now because this picture was taken almost a year ago.  When that day comes, we should all be afraid.  Very afraid. 

Angela

Day Thirtyfour: Pillow

You may or may not recognize this picture.  I posted it on facebook a while back.  This was my valentine's day present from John. 

John acquired this particular pillow from a friend he met at school who makes custom pillows.  He chose these words to put on the pillow because often times when he would say "I love you", I would respond with "I bet you do".  Interesting fact: since he got me this pillow, I don't say it so much anymore. 

I just think it's interesting the communication that develops in relationships.  It's almost like speaking a different language because certain words or phrases take on new meaning.  I guess it happens amongst friends as well especially if said friends were like roommates or something and came up with a way to classify themselves as one entity.  However, it is more likely that they will be separated eventually and that language will die.  I think in a relationship there's at least a potential for a more permanent foundation.  I can only imagine the crazy things John and I will be saying to each other 10 years from now.  I don't think anyone will know what we're talking about. 

By the way, that singular roommate entity I was referring to was Krangela.  We were pretty proud of that one. 

Angela

Day Thirtythree:Hoiles

I've mentioned Hoiles a lot in recent posts.  I thought I'd put up some picture so that you might understand its almost magical nature.  Kris and I were randomly put together as roommates when we both transferred to Greenville in the fall of 2007.  We lived in Hoiles 203 which has access to the secret room that no one knows about (incidentally, forget I said anything).  We loved Hoiles so much (and had become somewhat attached to each other) that we decided to stay in Hoiles for our senior year.  We then occupied room 204 which was a somewhat significant number for both of us.  Kris left me alone after the 3 week interterm of 2009 and it was then that I started bothering Sara Miller more often. 

So, here's short tour of Hoiles.  I have tons more pictures, I assure you, but I don't really feel like displaying an whole album in one post.  I'm a somewhat compulsive picture taker especially since I got a digital camera, which makes it so much easier. 

Our first dorm: 203 (just the bedroom)

Our second dorm: 204 (the beds were in the closet!)

Walking downstairs action shot

Community Kitchen

TV/ socializing space

Porch with philosophical couch

View from the porch (its campus)

So that's were I lived during college.  Our first dorm had a secret room and our second one had beds in the closet.  Both of those things were very exciting.  We didn't spend much time in the secret room though.  It was kinda gross up there.  It was the attic.  It was sweltering hot in the spring/ summer time also. 

The philosophical couch is a place that Kris and I used to hang out and flag random passerby down to come chat with us.  Then it would get cold and we were forced to keep our philosophy inside. 

Angela

Day Thirtytwo: Cake

Photo design compliments of John Goodin

Cake is a magical substance.  It is so awesome that I decided it was necessary to have a photo-shoot to display its wondrous beauty.  As soon I began setting up to take pictures, I acquired the design talents of one John Goodin.  He suggested that instead of photographing just one cupcake to use as an example for all cake, I should arrange the entire box of cupcakes into a heart.  He then proceeded to try and eat one of the cupcakes before I took any pictures.  I slapped his hand away and told him he could have one when I was finished because I might need all of them (and I did).  He then patiently eyeballed the cupcakes while I took my sweet time photographing them. 

I took great care in making sure the lighting was just perfect for the photographing of cupcakes, but every time I thought I had improved upon the conditions of the picture, it only turned out worse.  I ended up using the first one I took.  John then decided it was time to claim his reward. 

John claiming his reward

John eating his reward

The quality of this particular picture might have been significantly improved if he had only been patient enough to pose until I obtained a non-blurry picture, but unfortunately he was not willing to wait any longer.  He decided that particular cupcake had seen enough of the light of day and was to now take up residence within his stomach. 

Admittedly, this was a lot of effort to go through for cake, but I believe it to be a worthy cause.  The awesomeness of cake should be shared with the world or, in this case, dangled in front of the world's face in picture form without providing any substantive taste related results.  I apologize for what I can only imagine to be insufferable agony.  The cake was delicious.  Mmmmmm. 

If you think I'm being heartless, let me assure that it was not my idea to write about cake.  Sara Miller suggested that I write about food because it would make her happy.  It is my only concern to appease others, so I obliged.  Eating cake was just an added bonus. 

Mmmmmm, Cake. 

Angela

Day Thirtyone: The Thrilling Conclusion

So, Kris was not very happy with Brandon's extreme form of blasphemy and presented him with a strongly worded finger-point.  It is my belief that she contains magical powers in her finger, at least she thinks she does because every heated and non-heated argument involves excessive amounts of finger pointing and the occasional sigh. 

In this case, the finger point did wield magical powers because it caused Brandon to end up with his mind, and indeed his entire body, in the gutter. 

Brandon withering after the ominous finger point

His brain then snapped and he thought he had turned into the infamous Chupacabra and huddled animal like in front of the school sign. 

This is the sign that lets people know that they are, in fact, heading into the area of the College of Greenville and not some other college that inspires blasphemous hooliganery.   That's not a word.  I just made it up, but I think it will catch on. 

So, after Brandon regained his sanity (not very difficult because I made up his insanity) we continued our tour around campus.  It was basically a circle around the sidewalk.  I think at one point we ended up in the music building for some reason.  Brandon showed off his piano skills. 

Also I ended up sitting down on the sidewalk because Kris and Brandon weren't listening to me when I was trying to talk.  That was a completely different occasion, but it was amusing so I thought I'd mention it.  They were deliberately ignoring me and I was not happy about it so I made a frustrated noise and then just sat down in the middle of the sidewalk.  Kris thought it was funny.  She's a jerk. 

So, that concludes our back to school adventure (spliced with some other random happening). 

Angela

Day Thirty: Awkward Stick

The Gullies was not the only place in Greenville where awesome shenanigans took place.  This is a story, most it true, of the second year reunion of friends who were parted after a long summer. 

This journey began as a simple stroll around campus but, from the very beginning, tremendous mischief began to take hold.  It began in Ganton Circle where there is a statue of Jesus washing the feet of... someone biblical.  Perhaps it was John.  Anyway, Brandon (pictured left) decided Jesus needed to be presented with the 'awkward stick'.  I should probably explain the purpose of an awkward stick so that you might understand the extent of his blasphemy. 

We had certain rules at Greenville governing the behavior of the students.  Some of those rules were directly related to the actions of students in relationships.  The enforcers of the rules or "RC's", would patrol the dorms around the same time every night.  Now, for some reason, someone thought it would be a good idea to carry around a long, stick like object called the "awkward stick" that they could present to couples spending time together if the RC felt like they were close to breaking any rules.  It wasn't a violation, per say, it was just a friendly reminder that they shouldn't be getting any closer than they already were.  Now, someone eventually realized how stupid this concept was and it was put to an end, but before that time, it was a colossal annoyance to Brandon Runyon (with him having a girlfriend). 

So, Brandon presented Jesus with said "awkward stick" for washing an apostles feet.  We now have proof of his blasphemy. 

This epic journey shall be concluded tomorrow. 

Angela

Day Twentynine: George

This is George.  This adorable piece of cuteness and fluff showed up at Hoiles House in the spring of 2009 begging for food and love.  Being young college girls, we fed him, loved him, and named him.  He never left.  He became the Hoiles house cat (that wasn't allowed in the house because of dorm rules).  Liz even started buying him cat food and putting it out for him so he had a steady supply of meals. 

There were quite a few stray cats around campus.  There was an orange cat known to practically the whole campus that was most widely referred to as "Voldemort".  I'm not really sure how he got that name but they wrote an article about him in the campus newspaper.  There was also a black cat that showed up on our porch that was younger and more traditionally cute than George that fought our kitty for dominance of Hoiles residence.  He didn't win.  I'm sure he got named, but his appearance at Hoiles House was so brief, I have no recollection of what it was. 

Of course, there became a problem with George.  Almost everyone in the house had become very attached to him and felt a need in ensure our kitty's well being.  However, summer was fast approaching, and many of us would soon graduate or, at the very least, be gone for an entire summer unable to look after George.  Luckily, there was one among us who had just enough room in her household for this adorable kitty.  One of our housemates, also named Angela, took George home on her way out of Greenville.  He is currently being loved and cared for in a more permanent setting. 

There's not really a moral to this blog post.  I just love cats.  Apparently all Angela's do. 

Angela

Day Twentyeight: Green Light

Sara -noun: most awesome person alive

I'd like to introduce you to the most awesome people alive and one of my personal hero's, Sara Miller.  Now, Sara Miller did not come by this title lightly, I assure you.  She earned this title after an incident of epic heroic defiance.  It has become known in Sara Miller folklore as "The Green Light Incident".  *disclaimer: due to the large quantity time between the writing of this blog and the Green Light Incident, some of the minor/ major details may be somewhat less then accurate* 

It all began on a nice sunny day in Greenville, Illinois.  I was hanging out, probably outside, in my place of residence, Hoiles House.  Sara Miller came to the house after a busy day of doing Sara Miller things to tell me a story about something she had just done that made me proud to occupy some of the same living space as someone as brave as Sara Miller.  Here is what happened approximately exactly as she described it. 

Sara Miller at this time was an art student.  She always looked the part of an art student to me with her curly red hair, white t-shirt, and black shorts.  I suppose that was more of her running outfit, but some reason that always said "art student" to me.  Anyway, she was a senior preparing for an art show of her very own.  She had just been on a trip where artists had used different colored light to enhance the quality of their paintings.  Sara felt inspired by these artists.  She wanted to create this effect in her own studio.  Being a somewhat considerate human being, she presented her art teacher with the idea to paint her light so that she might create such an effect.  He said no.  He didn't explain why.  He didn't give her any practical reasons she should not do this.  He just said no.

Now, Sara Miller is an artist.  This man, being an art teacher, really should have known better.  It is in the spirit of an artist to rebel against tyranny.  They don't like to be constrained by rules, especially ones that don't even bother to explain themselves.  So Sara Miller did what any committed art student would do; she painted the light.

After she had explained what had happened to me, she suggested that we go see the light that I might understand the full awesomeness of her defiance.  Also there was a chance of confrontation with the art teacher which had not yet happened.  This is what makes Sara Miller so brave in my eyes because I was afraid to even witness a confrontation between her and the art teacher, but she was ready to go right into the heart of enemy territory and own up to what she had done.

By the time we got down to the art studio, the light had already been taken down and the art teacher was "not very happy with Sara" at all.  Now, I can understand the art teachers side.  He had made a mistake in not explaining why she should not paint the light (the paint wouldn't come off, it had to be replaced) but the damage had already been done.  Why not let her enjoy her light for a while?  It truly blows my mind how a teacher, an ART teacher no less, could be so controlling.  I hope he learned his lesson. 

So, Sara was in hot water, but she was and forever remains, my hero.  Her act of rebellion really speaks to the stubborn streak in my soul.  It was a classic example of defying authority and I'm so happy that I was there to witness at least part of it. 

Thank you, Sara Miller, for being awesome.

Angela

Day Twentyseven: Back to the Gullies

I'd like to rewind a little bit on the trip that Kris and I took through the Gullies.  The following took place before we stumbled upon the tiny insane asylum but still after I convinced Kris that the Gullies was not full of spiders longing for the day a 22 year old college student crossed the border into their lands so they could begin their lifelong vendetta against her.  I had just spent hours filling her head with images of pure joy (minus cake because she would never go for that) so that she might pass into the sacred space of Hoiles Wasteland. 

So, after almost a year and a half, Kris finally entered the "Gardens" (sign pictured on the left in case you forgot what this particular sign looks like and lack the capacity/ willingness to refer to yesterday's post).  The journey was fairly pleasant, despite the complete lack of greenery.  Shortly after entering the Gullies we came to a large clearing. 

 

It is in this clearing that much of the nefarious naked pagan worship by delinquent college students took place.  Since it was beyond the boundaries of the college, and thus the lifestyle statement, the rules did not apply here.  Or perhaps they just couldn't be seen breaking them.  Or maybe they were just roasting marshmallows.  The sources on this information is widely varied and completely unreliable.  However, that does not prevent me from repeating these malicious marshmallow orgy rumors on the internet.  So we continued past the hedonistic circle and made our way deeper into the Jungle.  

We came across a wooden bridge/ path most likely used as a comfortable spot for illicit sex acts or perhaps hopscotch tournaments.  We continued to follow this path until we stumbled upon what is quite possibly the most bad-ass thing known to man. 

A GIANT RUSTED DRILL (pictured here in the picture setting 'x-large' to convey the full and pure awesome largeness of this sweet, bad-ass looking equipment).  We decided to inspect this amazing discovery up close.  

Kris giving the 'all clear' for further inspection

So we closely inspected the drill and found it to be just as creepy and awesome and awesomely creepy as it had looked at first glance.  I then decided I needed my picture taken next to something so famous.  

Incidentally, it is this exact picture that made me realize I needed to stop dying my hair black.  It looked so awful that I couldn't stand the chance that a picture like this would happen again. 

So, after the drill was thoroughly inspected and photographed, we moved on the the insane asylum.  It didn't seem quite so cool after this drill, which is why I chose to write about it first so that it would not be overshadowed.  Or perhaps it was dumb luck.  Either way it worked out for the best.  

Angela

Day Twentysix: "Gardens"

As promised, here again is the picture of the loony bin in the depths of the Gullies aka "Hoiles Gardens".  I'm not sure why it is so named because, while it is definitely behind the house of Hoiles, I'm not sure in what sense it is considered a "Garden".  I think it should be renamed "Hoiles Jungle" or perhaps "Hoiles area of periodic greenery" because during the time of year that this picture was taken it looked more like "Hoiles hilly land of dead trees."

Regardless of its official title, we stumbled upon this strange looking building during a tour of Hoiles Jungle/ Forest/ Wasteland.  It is a creepy looking building to be sure and upon further inspection, it proved to be even creepier than we could have possibly imagined.  Perhaps you can imagine the creepiness that lurks within, but I had just finished convincing Kris that the Gullies was full of nothing but sunshine and kittens because she had refused to go in for fear of pissing off the spiders and causing them to seek revenge upon her in her sleep.  So, our collective imagination was expecting only good things since I had worked so hard to convince her to join me on a pleasant fuzzy-kitten-joy-filled stroll through the Gullies. However, this is what we found...

So I convinced Kris to walk inside...

And then LOCKED HER IN!

Just kidding.... there was no actual lock on the door.  I guess they figure insane people are too crazy to work a doorknob.  I mean, they have so much more important things to do than opening doors.  They probably spent hours trying to walk through the wall or materialize themselves through the creepy looking window to even bother looking for the door in that tiny half-room building.

Here's one of them trying to walk through the corner of the building now.... or maybe that's me being punished for trying to lock Kris away even though she could get out.

Oh, and here's proof that this is a real place and I wasn't lying.

So that was just one of the discoveries we made on our first Gullies adventure.  The spiders did not seek revenge on Kris so I'm happy to say that she is still alive today. 

Speaking of Kris, she sent me this text message today...

BLOGPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST

She then proceeded to send me this on facebook....

Angela...you have yet to post a blogpost for today. I am being a good friend and reminding you. I have painstakingly filled my limit for characters in a text to you. Every single letter was an O except for 6 letters. Those six are privilaged. 160 characters, most of which are O's reminding you to write your BLOGPOST. Please don't disappoint the 160 letters.

So, I'm glad the vicious spiders decided to spare her life or else she wouldn't be around to encourage me to write my blog.  

Angela

 

Day Twentyfive: Sick Day

My brains not really working at 100% today, so in lieu of words, I'm going to post some pretty pictures.  I hope their sparklyness makes up for my lack of intelligible conversation. 

A flower in Mary's garden

The view from Moro Rock

Kris pointing at something (one of my favorite pictures of her)

What I can only assume is an old loony bin in the depths of the Gullies

Perhaps I'll take one of these and post more about it later.... (hint: It'll probably be the loony bin). 

Angela