i'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby

Oh wait, no I'm not. I'm 23, which is why spending an evening with several dozen 16 year olds does not sound appealing to me in the very least. I like to go home on weekends, especially this year since I no longer have sleepovers with BF (our beds are too small, boo hoo). So, I drive 30 or so minutes home and spend the weekend chillin' with the Tot. Sounds wonderful, right? It is.

Except tonight when I got home I noticed several large bowls of candy, two large Costco sized bags of chips, a popcorn machine, a few cases of bottled water, and, well, the list goes on. I knew immediately that my little sister was having a party. And not just any party, mind you, an after-prom party. Oh gawd. I grabbed my things, took a look to see if I had received any mail (I did, more on that later), and hopped right back in my Jeep and drove back to school. Yeah, I could have stayed there and spent the entire evening in my room, but just knowing that an entire herd of high schoolers would be invading my house at midnight would totally suck any joy out of the "being home" experience.

Also, since when did it become appropriate to look like a total skank at prom? I haven't been out of high school THAT long, but no one would ever dare to wear a short dress while I was in school. It was all about formal evening gowns, the fancier the better. Now it seems the motto is: "the less cloth, the better." Just thinking about my little sister and her little friends in their little dresses makes me gag, I'm sooo glad I came back to school.

shopping advice needed

Okay, two months ago I bought this super cute Vera Wang night gown from Macy's online using a gift card I received for my birthday. A few days later, UPS tracking showed that the package had been delivered, but my school mail room never received it. I called Macy's and they were super nice about it, and sent me a gift card for the same amount of the purchase price.

Today, two months after the package was supposedly delivered (according to UPS tracking), I received it! So what do I do? Do I keep it? Do I "return to sender"? I don't want to have to PAY for it, but since I already did and was refunded...I don't know how they could make me pay for it again.

collegiate words of wisdom

First, I got a few e-mails asking if my walrus story from yesterday is true. Yes, it is true. But I promise I didn't mean to steal the darn thing! And I gave it back!

Second, I was going through my filing cabinets and getting rid of stuff I don't need (like old biology notes, no thanks!) and it made me think about all the lectures I've sat through and all the funny things professors say during lectures. Usually, I just sit there and laugh, but occasionally I'll write down their little nuggets of wisdom if I find them particularly amusing. I like to call these lecture tangents "collegiate words of wisdom". Hopefully I'll be able to collect a few more before graduation.

Advice on phobias: "People with a fear of flying are often told to take a flying lesson to get over it. I do it different; I take a valium and have a glass of wine."

i've been living a lie

I stole your walrus. I didn't mean to steal it. I saw him, sitting there outside on a bench for almost an hour, and thought to myself, "Oh, no, someone's walrus, it's going to get taken." So I took it. I meant to put "FOUND: Walrus" posters up, but it slipped my mind once I got him back to my room. He fit in so nicely with Chipmunk and Tiger that I convinced myself he belonged sitting on my bed.

Then, a few days later, I saw your signs posted around campus. I felt guilty and ashamed, I was the one who had stolen your walrus, wasn't I? I wanted to call you, tell you I had him...but what would I say? Hi, my name is Nicolle, I'm a complete weirdo obsessed with walruses and just decided to snag yours when I saw him on a bench the other day. I'm sorry, I'll give him back. No, I couldn't call you. I tried to talk BF into calling for me, or dropping the walrus off in the same spot where I found him, but I had gotten myself into this mess, and he insisted I get myself out.

I had to give the walrus back to you, but I couldn't find the courage to meet you in person or reveal my identity. I was too embarrassed. Who steals a walrus? I mean, really. So I went to the library to scope out potenial walrus hiding spots, a place for him to be safe from thievery. I chose a random study room upstairs and put him in the chair. Making a temporary screenname savethewalrus2007, I sent a text message to your phone, telling you where to find your beloved stuffed animal. I didn't stick around to see if you ever rescued him, but I hope you did.

rest in peace paw paw

I'm such a sap. I found out that Martha Stewart's beloved Chow Chow Paw Paw died this past week from her blog, and the entry describing his final days made me cry so much. For anyone who has ever lost a beloved pet, it is a very heart-wrenching experience to go through and since my dearest Scooby went to puppy heaven a few weeks ago, I could completely relate with Martha's sorrowful story. You can read all about Paw Paw in her blog, but be warned, the images are very saddening, especially the one with Martha and Paw Paw right before he died. You can tell from her eyes that she's been crying. There is also a photo of Paw Paw right before he was buried, bundled up in a favorite blanket with his two puppy friends giving him a final goodbye.

FAIL: sunny side cupcakes

I found the CUTEST recipe for faux sunny side up cupcakes in one of the several cupcake recipe books I got for Easter this year. I was so inspired by the book's picture that I decided I just had to re-create this recipe on my own, giving it a personal touch by merely using the book's recipe as a rough outline. I dubbed my creation "sunny side cupcakes", much cuter than the recipe's title of "eggy cakes", and decided to make peach cupcake batter rather than simple vanilla. Total fail.

The cupcakes tasted like peach cobbler. Nasty peach cobbler. Also, the recipe claimed that the cupcakes were to be topped with canned peaches, but I'm sorry, there is no such thing as a peach that small. I decided to replace the peach topper with an apricot topper, and even that was too large. And disgusting. Seriously, there was nothing even remotely redeeming about this cupcake invention.

After tasting a slice of one cupcake, I immediately turned the entire pan over into the trash. One rogue sunny side cupcake managed to escape the garbage bag, though, and Tater Tot promptly snatched it up despite my shouts to put it down. I tried to grab it from his mouth, but the little guy is so fast and small that he averted my grasp. He ate the entire disgusting thing in less than a minute, paper wrapper and all.



Later that night, I woke up in my mom's bed to the sound of Tater Tot not-so dry heaving. The cupcake looked even nastier the second time around, let me tell you. I tried to cover my tracks of 1. sleeping with my dog in my mom's bed and 2. making a vomit-inducing baked good, but only managed to ruin my mom's 100% silk bed spread in the process. Who knew you couldn't wash silk? I guess I sort of knew, but at 3 AM it wasn't exactly the first thing on my mind. I mean, the post-washing machine version of her bedspread isn't that bad. It's just very stiff. And black instead of moss green.