the third week of Christmas

Some of you know about my obsession with Michale Bublé's voice. Others of you might not have known. 

Now, all of you know. 

Enjoy this beautiful rendition of one of my favorite carols, such a beautiful picture of Jesus' arrival to our world. :) 

Merry Christmas!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a5vnIzRXvKQ

the second week of Christmas

MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!!!! :)

I hope that you have been taking the time to enjoy this beautiful time of year, spread joy to everyone you see, and wish Jesus a happy birthday ;) 

I've decided to take a little break from the craziness of studying and finals and no sleep and studying and more finals to FINALLY post something!

SO I'm going to play a game (inspired by none other than the EPICNESS THAT IS THE VLOGBROTHERS) called  

GOOGLE AUTOFILL

 (The game that proves that people actually are as weird as we think they are.)

Let's GO... 

"Is my Christmas..."

#1 "...list reasonable?" Well duh it kind of depends on your list. If you're asking for a new watch or a model airplane or a fruitcake, then yes, it's probably reasonable. But if you're expecting a Tiffany ring, a 90-inch flatscreen and a jet airplane stuffed with a 10 years supply of Dove chocolate, then NO, it's probably really unreasonable.

#2 "....tree dying?" Is it turning brown? Okay.

#3 "...tree dead?" If it's all brown at this point, then YES

#4 "...list too long?" Go get your list. (I'll wait till you get back.) Now lay it out. If you can use it as table cloth, YES.

#5. "...tree healthy?" Try sticking a thermometer in the base. If it has a fever, immediately remove it from water and take it to your nearest doctor.

#6 "...list?" Ok if you can't be bothered to complete the question, then I can't be bothered to answer the ques

#7 "...list reasonable yahoo?" SO what, my answers aren't helpful enough?! Well then FINE BE LIKE THAT.

#8 "...Christmas cactus dying?" Again with the Christmas plants...

#9 "...Christmas tree delicious?" Ok now that is arguably the most absurdly bizarre and disturbing question I have ever seen. Seriously. We're eating trees now?!

#10 "...tree leaning?" Look at your tree. Then bend at the waist to the side. If it looks straight, then it's leaning.

That's all I've got for now, but till the next time I surface from the UVA Finals Fury, have a very Merry Christmas! :) <3

Moral of the Story: Expect Google to answer life's questions, and you might end up eating your Christmas tree. 

the first week of Christmas

CHRISTMASTIME IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, so... I'm a little excited, to say the least. And you know what? It's not my fault. I mean, my own name means "Christmas child," so... yeah. I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

There. I said it. 

SO in the spirit of the most wonderful time of the year, I would like to discuss the lyrics of a little Christmas ditty that is soooo creepy if you just stop to think about it. :D

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town

 

Ok, so, first of all, if I were a little kid waiting for Santa Claus to show up, THIS WOULD NOT BE COMFORTING. What the heck you mean "you better watch out, you better not cry"?! Sounds to me like the angry threat of a frazzled mom at a grocery store (yeah you know the one--the one with the kid screaming and throwing a straight FIT in the cereal aisle). First line of the song and people are already out of control. Smh. 

He's making a list,
Checking it twice;
Gonna find out who's naughty or nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town

All right now hold up. If he's Santa, and he's supposed to know who all the naughty kids are, WHY does he need to check the list TWICE? I mean, isn't that your JOB, Father Christmas?! And this so-called "naughty-nice" list. Can we say completely arbitrary? I mean, if I broke into someone's house in the middle of the night, left a whole bunch of jank in their living room, then ate all the milk and cookies they had, I feel like that would qualify as some serious naughty status. Sound familiar?

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake

WAIT WAIT WAIT A MINUTE. Ok now we're just crossing into some creeper-imma-watch-you-sleep-cuz-I'm-weird-like-that territory. Listen, Sketchmeister. It is NOT ok to watch people sleep. Are you an anesthesiologist? No. No, I didn't think so.

With little tin horns and little toy drums
Rooty toot toots and rummy tum tums
Santa Claus is coming to town

Now you're just making words up, Dr. Seuss.

He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake
Goodness sake

Didn't I just tell you that this is socially unacceptable behavior?!

 

You better watch out
You better not cry
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming
Santa Claus is coming
Santa Claus is coming to town

Ok, ok, we get it. He's coming. Sheesh.
 

So actually I'm really not here to rain on your parade if you grew up with Santa Claus as a kid. :) I don't have anything against the man in the red suit, to be honest. In fact, it doesn't matter how many times I watch The Santa Clause, The Polar Express, or Miracle on 34th Street--I will get a little teary-eyed literally every single time. 

What I do worry about is that if we're not careful, we forget about why we're even celebrating Christmas at all. Hey, I know that I forget a lot of times. I mean, I'm an obsessive Christmas decorator; I blast carols starting November 1, every year-- unfailingly; I squeal like a child when I see the lights; I beam from ear to ear when someone tells me "Merry Christmas." But let's be real, if Jesus hadn't been born, none of this stuff would even matter. Actually, we probably wouldn't even be celebrating anything. December would just be another mehhh winter month.

You know, if every year on my birthday people spent the whole day fussing over how great the cake is, fussing over how awesome the decorations for my party are and whatnot, and they didn't ever stop to say, "Hey, happy birthday, Natasha. I really love you, you know that?" I know I'd feel pretty down. Excluded, even.  I really don't want to make that kind of mistake with Jesus. He deserves way more.

The Moral of the Story: Jesus may not need a "Happy Birthday," but I don't doubt he'd love to hear it from you. :)

stuff UVA people like

1. Not wearing pants.
    a. This includes wearing leggings with nothing to cover their donks: i.e. wearing leggings with no sweatshirt, over-sized t-shirt, skirt, dress, SOMETHING with which to cover that which needs not be seen by me. Or anyone else.
    b. This also includes wearing shorts. In 42 degree F weather. 
 which leads me to...
2. Not wearing things that make sense in general.
Can someone just please explain to me WHO the ham sandwich told these UVA girls that it's ok to wear booty shorts--I'm talking about scraps of material that look like something originally intended to be a belt--in the freezing cold?! I mean, if you're trying to do your thing at the beach in the summer, then I really can't judge. BUT SERIOUSLY. If it's cold enough to wear UGG boots/rain boots with that same gray sweatshirt with the navy blue lettering saying "VIRGINIA" on it, then it's cold enough to FREAKIN COVER YOUR LEGS. I don't need to see that. 


3. Not wearing things at all. Because nothing says, "I'm a responsible individual!" like streaking where old ladies and children can see you in all your glory. 

4. To abbrevs stuff. "I was gonna go to the AFC before going to the Pav, but then I realized I was running late for my meeting with my SR. So I totes had to cut through the IRC, but then I bumped into my PA, and we talked forever, so I took the NL back to central grounds." <--HUH?!


5. To make an infernal racket outside my house at 1:00 in the morning. TAKE YOUR JIGGY KRUNK SOMEWHERE ELSE


6. Vegan cookies. This I simply will not understand. It's like trying to eat a tree. A very small tree.


7. The North Face. As opposed to the South Butt...?


8. Winning football games. Because it means something when we do. 


9. Dance parties. <--This is acceptable. Except when it involves #5.

10. Doing trifling things at the dining hall. Like pouring chocolate milk on your Lucky Charms. <--Seriously. I saw this happen. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. 


10. Studying abroad. Everyone must study abroad, that way there's never anyone in Charlottesville. It's what Jefferson would have wanted, anyway.
speaking of which...
11. Thomas Jefferson. 


The Moral of the Story: WahooWhat...?


Disclaimer: I love the student body of UVA like crazy. And I love UVA in general. So I can sass it if I want. 

why yes, my name does happen to be Sassy McSasspants.

Wow has it been a crazy week! But I have survived, and in one whole piece. 

I know, I know, I just put up a picture of Charlie Sheen. Harass me in person. 

Anyhoo, I have been eagerly awaiting the moment when I could finally reply to my dear friend Jenna's most recent blog response. :) YAY!

For those of you who have not been keeping up with this little blog skirmish:

1) Read my previous post. 

b) Follow the link to Jenna's page. http://irrationallyirked.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-am-irrationally-irked-by-inaccurate.html

III) Read her blog because it's awesome.

g) Come back to my page from hers

5) Continue reading below

For those of you who have been following, feel free to continue reading. 

I quote Jenna's Response To My Response: 

" 1. Duh. My list was of things I could do in a 26 hour day. Not what I would actually do. (Proven by the existence of my original #8.)
2. All I can say is that she knows me well enough to realize that I would still always be running late to Hebrew, even with two extra hours in my day.
3. Have you read my blog? I'm pretty sure there's no shame here. 
4. I think she means LEARN to make a fort out of socks. Because that would really be impressive. Especially considering how few socks I have. 
5. Good concession. (Ha. Concession. Like concessions. As in food. Fitting.)
6. I'll give her that one.
7. Clearly, I would do both. 
8. I don't need two extra hours to go on dates with George (yes, first name basis.) We go on biweekly dates already actually. 
9. THIS IS WHERE MY CAREFUL REPUDIATION OF HER LIST ENDS. 
Natasha.
"IT'S JUST WRONG, STUPID AND AWKWARD NOT TO USE THE OXFORD COMMA."


THERE IS NO OXFORD COMMA IN THAT STATEMENT. SUCH PHRASING WOULD NEVER, EVER BE ON A FLAG I CREATED BECAUSE I WILL ALWAYS LOVE AND SUPPORT SAID MARK OF PUNCTUATION."

Now here is My Response to Jenna's Response to My Response:

1. Yes, it was a list of things you could actually do. You are completely correct in asserting that. I am also completely correct in asserting that it also serendipitously happens to be a list of things you also would do, if allotted the time. It's ok, boo, we're all friends here. 

2. "All I can say is that she knows me well enough to realize that I would still always be running late to Hebrew, even with two extra hours in my day." Dang straight.

3. This is true--there is no shame in your blog. But even you know that some things cannot be retold with accuracy on the interwebz. "

4. "Learn" to make a fort out of socks? Por favor. False modesty does not become us, my dear. You could make a sock fort out of a single packet of socks. I know of your ways with the Force. <-- This is me calling you out.

5. See what I meant by arsenal of puns in number 11 of my previous list? Natasha wins again. 

6. More points for me.

7. You would flash mob while bowling. Don't even play. 

8. ...

9. SAYING THAT IT IS "JUST WRONG, STUPID AND AWKWARD NOT TO USE THE OXFORD COMMA" WITHOUT ACTUALLY USING THE OXFORD COMMA SHOWS HOW WRONG, STUPID, AND AWKWARD IT IS. *sigh* We are clearly on the same page in this regard. 

Moral of the Story: To quote the adolescent we all know and love, Jenna, "Imma tell ya one time..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHVhwcOg6y8&ob=av2n

But seriously. Read Jenna's blog. :) 

 

add some sass to your 26 hour day

My lovely friend Jenna is an absolutely fabulous blogger. I'm pretty jealous, actually. Whenever I read her stuff, I literally have to cover my mouth with both hands and do the "wiggle-stomp-my-feet-silently-because-i'm-about-to-go-on-myself" dance in my chair to keep from guffawing out loud like a fool on laughing gas. 

I may or may not have been kicked out of public places for disturbing the peace while reading her writing.

In one of her recent posts, she created a list of all the things she would do in a 26 hour day. I've attached the list here for your convenience:

"Things I could do in a 26 hour day:
1. Finish hw (for once)
2. Learn a new musical instrument (guitar, harp, banjo, pretty much anything but a shofar)
3. Write more blog posts
4. Do laundry on a regular basis
5. Eat a meal that in no way involves food from Panera
6. Read something not assigned by a professor
7. Go bowling
8. Go on a date (this could, in theory, also be #7) (just a suggestion)
9. Start hiking again
10. Jam with musical friends. So many musical friends.
11. Create an internal arsenal of  puns that are ready for any occasion."

Granted, it's a nice-sounding list. But it's all wrong. 

Jenna Monell, you and I both know darn well that that is not what you would do in a 26 hour day. Here's a reality check for you, toots.

What Jenna would really do in a 26 hour day:

1. Procrastinate doing hw for 2 extra hours 
2. Learn how to play the shofar (for the sole purpose of blowing into it obnoxiously in the halls of Old Cabell as she runs to Hebrew class in the morning)
3. Get into situations too awkward to blog about 
4. Procrastinate doing laundry and instead make a fort out of her socks
5. I'll give her #5, it's probably true
6. Procrastinate reading that other thing
7. Forget that she was there to go bowling, and start a flash mob in front of the shoe check-out counter.
8. Go on a date... with George Clooney (I figured I should be at least a little bit nice.)
9. Go on a hike, and plant a flag on the top of the mountain that says "IT'S JUST WRONG, STUPID AND AWKWARD NOT TO USE THE OXFORD COMMA"
10. By "jam with musical friends," she really means pulling a Kanye West at a Justin Bieber concert. "Imma let you finish, JB, but Natasha Oladokun is the best blogger of all time!" :D (ok... maybe that one was a stretch. But I couldn't resist. :D) 
11. She already has an intense arsenal of puns at her disposal, so I have no idea what she's talking about there. 

The Moral of the Story:  I forgot to mention that I would totally be doing all those things right along with her.


See Jenna's blog of awesomeness here: http://irrationallyirked.blogspot.com/

Class is in session. Um, sike.

SO I woke up this morning at 6:30. Not because my body wanted to, or because my mind thought it would be a good and healthy thing--but because my stinkin' alarm clock woke me up. 

*GROAN*


Another 8:00 AM Personality Psych class. Not that I have anything against Personality Psych--I actually think it's a very interesting subject--it's just the fact that it's at 8:00 AM. I mean, even the sun hasn't woken up in Charlottesville when my alarm goes off, so why should I have to?!

Anyway, I was rudely awakened by the stinging slap of reality: it is going to be a very busy week. Three exams by the weekend, and a paper due in 8 days. Needless to say, this did not motivate me to get out of the warm bed that kept entangling me in its linen clutches.


But--I got up anyway. Like a good student I went to class, got there early--2 minutes early!-- answered all my iClicker questions, made sure that I had gotten all the info I needed for the exam on Thursday, and did everything I was supposed to do as a law-abiding-honor-coding student. The day flew by with many pleasures, like catching up with one of my good friends over lunch, tasting white hot chocolate for the first time all semester, going to one of my favorite classes (Russian lit woot woot!), and finding out that the midterm for that class has been postponed (thank you, thank you, Professor Herman--may you live forever). 


But of course, Personality Psych couldn't stand the way my day was turning out, so it decided to mess with me again. The so-called exam review session that was CLEARLY supposed to be in Gilmer Hall room 190 was NOT in Gilmer Hall room 190. 

Now that really ticks me off. 

There I was, trying to be a good student, and the freakin review session up and didn't meet where the syllabus and professor clearly said it would meet! 


*insert acknowledgment that as of right now, I am speaking purely from irrational annoyance, and that a week from now, the preceding events will probably not appear so vexing to me.*

Today's events lead me to create a short list. In my perfect universe:

1. Exam reviews would come to me. In my house, in my pajamas, with everything catered to what I need to know for the exam.
2. Class itself would come to me. 
3. Tests would be catered to me, my tastes, and what I want to talk about. For example:
"Discuss the difference between the Humanistic school of thought and the Behavioral school of thought." 
 My answer: "You know what I want to discuss? Waffles. I LOVE waffles. We're going to talk about THAT for 2 pages."
Grade: A+

Yeah. Yeah, I like that a lot, actually.

Moral of the Story: Nonsensical or not, you know my list would be pretty fun in real life.  
 

the symptoms.

You know you're an English major if

1. You've been the grammar police since you learned what grammar is.
2. You know the difference between imminent and eminent.
3. You have the online Oxford English Dictionary bookmarked on your toolbar.
4. Your professor makes a Keats reference and you instantly check his left hand to see if he's married.
5. Someone confuses Dickinson with Dickens and you just want to slam your forehead repeatedly on your desk.
6. You're the only person in the room who laughs when someone makes a pun in normal conversation.
7. You can talk about the same book with your friend for 2 solid hours. Long after class has let out. 
8. You believe in "word economy" but secretly hate it, because when there exists a plethora of words, expressions, and figures of speech so readily at one's disposal, the only patent recourse is to thoroughly exhaust them all, assuming, of course, that you maintain a significant degree of unity and coherence, as well as remain true to one's original intent of meaning.
9. You don't need Spell Check. You use knowledge. 
10. You understand that Jane Austen is a necessary component to one's education.
11. You cry when someone tells you that the people in Anna Karenina aren't actually real.
12. You knew that there were 2 versions of Frankenstein. Which one is better? Both of them.
13. You can interpret something nobody else can make sense of.


Moral of the Story: Nerdy is the new normal.  

 

Psychology would call it regression. I call it awesomeness.

SO apparently I'm only, like, 12 years old. At least, according to some of my tastes and interests. And it's totally ok, because I have other really great grown-up features that more than compensate for this: like my taste for poetry, Russian literature, espresso, debating, going to sleep late and getting up early. Or my need to try to act like a mom and say stuff like "Drive carefully!" (because going 80 in a residential area was totally in the offing), or "Seriously, it was like a pigsty" (I don't even know what that means), or "I'm appalled" (I actually just like saying that word, as mommyish as it sounds).

But I digress. Deep down inside, there's a part of me that refuses to abandon those little buried treasures of childhood that really shouldn't just be for childhood. Like being 19 and still wearing duck-shaped bubble necklaces. Why? Because it's so much FUN! 

I mean, let's be real. I listen to Justin Bieber. (I'm not even going to bother defending myself on that one.) And I may or may not own a giant Toy Story 3 poster with matching socks, accessories, and kitchenware. (I will never tell.) I also still happen to like Sesame Street. (The humor is totally not for kids anyway.) I still collect stuffed animals...and I may or may not have created a Facebook page for one of them. (I'm not telling for that one, either.) Oh and by the way...classic Disney movies? Better than anything else in the theaters these days. I dare you--no--I defy you to find a 90 minute movie more epic than The Lion King. 

I honestly have no idea what Justin Bieber and the Lion King have to do with each other, so at this point I'm just taking that as a sign to stop and go back to the grown up world of homework and Anna Karenina.  

But you better believe you'll still see me blowing bubbles in any random place I find. :) 

Moral of the Story: "How strange it is that when I was a child I tried to be like a grown-up, yet as soon as I ceased to be a child, I often longed to be like one." --Leo Tolstoy, Childhood

That awkward moment when you see your professor outside of a classroom

...and you freeze, paralyzed from the tippy-top of your head to the rubber bottoms of your Chucks.  

Because it never, ever occurred to you that professors cross the street or go to Kroger or actually go to Starbucks to buy their coffee. 

What? What is this?...You mean to say that these people actually...do things?! 


And of course, because you got swag, you keep on walking and hope they don't see you. (Because them seeing you + you seeing them)*√not being in class  = a whole lot of potential awkwo. <--How's that for math.

Of course, though, because your swag is so very evident, they notice you. 


So you're forced to perform the ancient social ritual that I like to call The Headnod-Half-Smile-I'mGoingToSortOfSayHiToYouButNotReally-Exchange. And right on cue, home training (and pressure not to look like an idiot) demands that you at least say hello, and exchange niceties at the barest minimum. So you do. Then walk away. Awkwardly. And you try to convince yourself that they weren't able to tell that you definitely hadn't done the reading for their class yet.

Moral of the Story: Look at your shoes wherever you go. Just do it.

Touch is my love language, but seriously...

So. It's been over 2 months since I did the big chop, and I am still loving it. :) It makes me feel sassy(er) and carefree, and there's just something daring about a girl cutting her hair short that I find so delightful. It's been great! :D

Except for one thing. Now, before I continue, I hereby evoke the following disclaimer: the entry below is not directed toward any one person in particular. Seriously. It's not. Because trust me, everyone and their mom has done this to me at some point in the past 2 months. And I refuse to remain silent any longer! (Not that remaining silent is one of my character strengths, but that's beside the point.) Anyway, don't think that if you're reading this and you're one of the many who has done this to me, that I'm targeting you. I'm not.

I'm only sort of targeting you. 

Having said that, I continue. What the french toast exactly makes people think that just because my hair is now shorter, they can just stick their fingers in it and mess around with my head?!??!? I mean let's be real here, people. My hair is an extension of my body. This is precious territory we're talking about here. Now I know some of you are going to read this and will be thinking "Psh, gurlchill." I will not chill! Not until the full measure of my wrath has been poured out on the interwebs and the whole world tastes of my displeasure. 

If you're struggling to understand, let me put it to you this way. Imagine if every time I saw you, I walked up to you, and before even saying hello, I started tweaking your nose or stroking your leg. Aggressively. Um, WEIRD. Not to mention socially awkward.

It's not that I have issues with having my hair touched. It's the assumption that just because it's short and curly, you can pet it. Like a freaking dog. It's one thing to say, "Hey I really love your hair! May I touch it?" It's quite another issue when you assault my scalp with your fingers. 

Moral of the Story: In the words of my friend Mr. Hammer, "U Can't Touch This"

16 Ways to Get Kicked Out of Kroger

1. Do the running man on the grocery conveyor belt

2. Run around repeatedly screaming "THE CELERY IS ALIVE!!!!" as loud as you are humanly capable

3. Chuck M&M's at people 

4. Juggle grapefruit

5. Hide in the meat fridge

6. Dump milk out on the floor and turn it into a slip'n'slide

7. Make pirate hats out of the cereal boxes

8. Sing Justin Bieber songs through a megaphone 

9. Wrestle with a pillow in the front entrance

10. Stand at the exit in a Jedi costume and use the Force every time the doors open

11. Hack into the loud speakers and announce that from now on, all sale proceeds will go toward ant farming organizations

12. Set a monkey loose in the magazine section

13. Re-enact the last battle scene from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe in the cereal isles

14. Do wheelies on your bike in the check-out line

15. Use air-freshener as mace

16. Hug the cashier, vehemently declaring that it's Free Hug Day

Moral of the Story: Grocery shopping is only boring if you want it to be.

Back home from home: final reflections

SO... I'm back at college, starting class, and loving every second of it.
Except for one thing.
I'm still obsessed with learning more about all things Middle Eastern. It wasn't enough for me to just go to Israel and Palestine, no. I have to go and take an entire class on Jewish history, from Genesis all the way to the Medieval Period. It wasn't enough for me to just hear the complex sounds of Arabic in a busy market, no. I have to start teaching myself the Arabic alphabet and practice writing sentences in Arabic, even if I have no idea how to say them. It wasn't enough for me to just revel in the memory of the amazing food I had there, no. I have to start googling every kosher or Arabic restaurant within 50 miles of Charlottesville.

I'm starting to see a trend here.

I just don't know what it is about that place. It's allure goes far beyond mere tourist attractions or exotic shopping. It's not just the food; it's not just the language; it's not just the architecture. It's like the entire place is a living, breathing entity that I can't get out of my head or heart. It's like it's calling to me, begging me to come back. And I would in a heartbeat, if it wasn't for the fact that I don't exactly have access to a travel portal right at the moment. :/

It's crazy, but I think of Jerusalem and Bethlehem almost like they are actual people, not places. I long to go back, as though I were mourning the loss of a beloved friend. I mean, it literally has taken me almost a solid month to stop dreaming about Israel whenever I go to sleep. I'm serious.

Everything makes more sense there. The stupid things I used to worry about before I left all just came into the light to be seen for what they really are--stupid. In a place where God and family come before anything else, I got to see with my own eyes the futility of the "American Dream"--that my life is not about me and what I can achieve for myself. It's about serving God with everything I have and everything I am. And it's about serving others in His name, no matter what it costs me.

I saw life for what it really is: short, fragile, beautiful, and far less complicated than I tend to make it.

I have to go back. I just have to.

You know you're moving to college when...

Never fear! I am still going to chronicle my adventures in the Middle East, but I'm taking a commercial break to talk about college.

So I'm back at UVA, and boy does it feel weird to be here again! I mean seriously, I feel like I was just here yesterday, eating salad at the dining hall. Weird.

But as I've been settling into my new house, I've been thinking about different things that must be universal for all college students moving back to their campus, whether they're living in the dorm or not, whether it's their first year at college or not. So here it is:

You know you're moving away to college when:

1. Your bedroom at home looks like a blindfolded kid with a baseball bat was let loose in there
2. You can't seem to find that one thing you know you're forgetting
3. You've packed all your clothes in separate boxes, so you have to separate a box for random stuff like books and Kleenex and cd's and your favorite coffee mug and packets for instant sweet tea
4. You get excited when you start to see carpet
5. You keep posting Facebook statuses about how packing sucks

...I feel like there is way more to add to this list, but I am just too tired to even think of any more. Bummer.

*CUE AWKWARD CHANGE OF SUBJECT BECAUSE I JUST REALIZED THAT I REALLY DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH TO SAY ABOUT MOVING TO COLLEGE AFTER ALL*

So... this evening after getting Starbucks with my friend, Jenna, we decided to sit outside on a park bench and enjoy the lovely view of UVA grounds. Then, all of a sudden, a brisk, cold wind assailed us, and instead of paying attention to the sky, all we could do was giggle about how nice it was to feel a cool breeze for once. MMMhmm.

The Weather Channel lies.

It said that it was supposed to be sunny, and before we knew what was happening, that brisk cold breeze began to blow into a gentle rain. We laughed as it slowly began to come down, till all of a sudden, WHOOOOOOSHHH!!!! Sheets of rain--no, entire STORM SYSTEMS began to pelt us with their angry torrents of basketball-sized raindrops drops and hail just big enough to make you get an attitude with people.

Within 15 seconds, we were completely soaked, and the puddles looked like olympic swimming pools. I swear I saw Michael Phelps butterfly past me.

Of course, every good-looking guy at UVA (and yes, the creepy ones too) just happened to jog by us, as we just stood there, drenched, and giggling like giddy school girls. I checked the Weather Channel app on my now-soaking-wet iPhone, and of course, it said that the current weather was sunny with the possibility of a light storm. Yeah no kidding.

Thank goodness for quick-thinking Jenna, who called her roommate and asked her to come pick us up in her car. And of course, as soon as she hung up and we left the shelter of the Lawn breezeway, it stopped raining. Like immediately.

I'm pretty sure that if I had jumped into a pool fully clothed, I wouldn't have been as soaked.

But jumping into a pool wouldn't have been as fun. :)

The Moral of the Story: When you're packing all those boxes for college, remember to take an umbrella with you.

Back home from home Part 2

There really is no comparison. Middle Eastern food makes American food look like a joke. It's like trying to compare fillet mignon with Gerber baby food. Pointless.

I discovered something new about myself on this trip. I realized that I have my dad's adventurous streak, and that I'll try just about anything, as long as it's not trying to crawl off my plate. And no, there were no creepy crawly things to be had. Farrrrr from it.

I lived in the Jewish quarter of the Old City in Jerusalem, so all the restaurants in that part of the city are kosher. And MAN was the food good! On a typical day, here's what a casual breakfast consisted of:

To Drink: Freshly squeezed grapefruit juice, orange juice, and lemonade. And I mean FRESHly squeezed. As in they took the orange, or grapefruit, or whatever fruit it was, and squeezed it right into the pitcher, no extra sugar. Just the way God made it, icy cool and sweet as juice ever was.

Starters: Freshly baked loaves of wheat bread, still hot enough to melt all the creamy butter your heart desires. And you haven't lived until you've put honey or strawberry preserves on it.

Main course: Vegetables are a big deal in the Middle East, so it's pretty common, if not expected, to have salad at every meal. But I don't mean that horrid bagged iceburg lettuce stuff with dyed purple cabbage pieces scattered in it. I'm talking about real, green lettuce, with fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, with olive oil and herbs as dressing. Then on the side are plates of green or black olives (whichever you prefer), fresh tuna fish, at least four different types of gourmet cheeses, and omelettes.

To finish the job: Coffee, of course, the best to be had. Your choice: Café Americano, Espresso (so strong you could stand your spoon in it), or my personal favorite, cappuccino. :)

And that was just breakfast.

Even though the days seemed longer while I was there, I felt like it was always time to eat something! But I could never complain. My lunch and dinner favorites were anything that came with pita and hummus (I would slather hummus on just about anything... it was kind of pathetic), and shawarma laffa, a kind of wrap with marinated chicken, lamb, or beef, with hummus, cucumbers, onions, and spicy sauces, all wrapped in a thin tortilla-like flatbread. Just thinking about it makes me hungry again. Sad face. :( I also got to try Arabic food, which was also fantastic, although slightly different in some of it's preparations.

Besides just tasting amazing, the wonderful thing about eating food in the Holy Land is the fact that food isn't just about survival, or eating for the sake of it. Meals are about family, about conversation, about just enjoying being with people.

And that's really the most beautiful thing about it.

Back home from home

WOW. It's been over a month since I've blogged last, and all thanks to the many adventures I've gotten to have in the most beautiful place on earth--The Holy Land! The most peaceful, meaningful, exciting, fun, breathtaking two weeks of my life got to be spent in the one place on earth where God Himself decided to become a human being. And I long for it even more now than I ever thought I would.

I'm just going to be real: as much as I want to, I simply CANNOT condense my thoughts, impressions, and experiences of my two weeks in Israel into one gigantic blog entry. So I'm not even going to try. Left to me, I could blog about that place for the rest of my life and still not be able to say enough. So I'll just start with one entry... for now, at least. :)

Over the next few entries, I'll try to touch on all of the major aspects of Middle Eastern culture that I experienced--the food, religion, personalities of the people, social dynamics, etc.-- because there were soooo many new and exciting things to experience! Today, I'll just talk about my overall feelings about my trip. That is, if I can find the words....

From the van ride to Dulles Airport, I was already starting to feel this growing excitement deep inside me. I couldn't really explain or articulate it, so for the most part I just kept my thoughts to myself and tried to calculate how long our travel time would be. Before leaving, I was so stressed out with preparations, I didn't think I even had time to be excited. I mean, how could I be excited when there were 570,000 lbs. of clothes to iron and pack?! But from the minute we got on the road, I could feel something stirring inside me, a sudden eagerness to just get there. And not because I don't like planes. I like planes. I hate their food, but I love planes. I was eager because I felt like I was going to a familiar place of safety. I was going home.

On the plane, I stared out the window and tried to suppress the growing restlessness swirling around inside me. I whipped out my 4X6 inch lavender journal and sketched vigorously with a bold black Sharpie pen: "It's funny; most people see Israel as a dangerous place...and yet with every mile I feel as though I'm escaping to a refuge. Like even though Jesus is with me now, He's waiting for me there."

And wait for me He did, for His presence was everywhere. From the second I set foot off the plane, I felt different. More alive, like I was looking at everything for the first time. Even in the middle of the airport in Tel Aviv, (arguably the least holy city in Israel :D), I was just happy to be there and listen to the people yell at each other in Hebrew and Arabic. I was captivated by the sound.

As our sherut (the Hebrew word for a bus-like taxi van) drove through the mountains of Israel, I felt like I was in some sort of trippy dream. I, the American college kid from a teeny tiny town, was getting to go to the places where Yeshua actually lived. Um, time to be excited!


No words can describe how I felt when I first glimpsed the walls of Jerusalem. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I really believed what I was seeing; I just snapped shots with my little red digital camera like it was my job. And if I was losing words just looking at the place, I just about lost them all when I got inside the city and got a look at this at the top of the city wall: (click to enlarge image)




Hills for miles and miles and miles and miles!!!! Seriously, Jerusalem, and everything surrounding it for 300 square miles, is either on a hill or in a valley. ERRTHING. So if you're walking downhill and are starting to feel good, don't get happy. You about to walk right back uphill again!

But it was worth it. Oh, was it worth it! The endless hills, the hard, "new" cobblestone streets (in Jerusalem, their idea of a "new" structure is something 800 years old. I'm serious), the dry heat,--it was all worth it. Because the shalom, the peace of God there is so present it's almost physical. As our friend and host said on our first night in Jerusalem: "In a land where men once had hearts of stone, the stones here have hearts." He was right. Unless your soul is made of granite and iron, it is near impossible to go there and not feel something, anything! Awe. Wonder. Incredulity. Excitement. Shalom. And the sense of familiarity I had with the place--it freaked me out. I am arguably the most directionally impaired person, well, like, ever, and in this city with twisting alleys, dozens of shops that all start to look the same after a while, and streets narrower than some aisles in Wal-Mart, I could find my way anywhere after being shown just once. It was like it really was my home, and I couldn't explain how I seemed to know the place already.

And I fell in love with the people. Israelis, Arabs, Palestinians; I loved them all. Their dry sense of humor. Their hospitality. The fact that God is more than just the center of their life--He is their life.

As I upload more pictures onto my Facebook page, I begin to recall more and more happy memories of my time there. And even though I'm back home in the States, I know that I've still left a pretty good chunk of my heart in my other home, too.

Celebrity Squad

Wouldn't it just be awesome to have an entourage of celebrities to follow you around and cater to your every whim, even if it's just for a day? I think so! :D

Of course, I can never pass up a challenge, so when my fellow blogging friend Jason (who's blog is pretty hilarious, by the way! :D) basically said that no one could pick a better team of celebrities to be in someone's entourage, that automatically meant that I had to prove that I could pick better people! :P LOL

So here's who I would choose to be in my posse of popular personalities:

1) The one, the only, the freakin' AMAZING Adam Young of Owl City!


Not only does this dude have an awesome sense of style, he is arguably the only guy on planet earth who can write songs about Fireflies, an Alligator Sky, Saltwater Rooms, and Rainbow Veins and make it sound absolutely legit. Seriously, I have no idea what the man is talking about half the time, but does it even matter? Heck no! Because he's Adam Young and he just ROCKS like that! With him in my entourage, we would write songs together on the piano about every random we can think of. Purple clouds, backwards waterfalls, hyper dragonflies, name it, we'll write about it! Of course, spontaneously bursting into song when everyone else least expects it will be routine. And we would be AWESOME.

2) What better celebrity to have for protection/ increased cool factor than the English fantastic-ness who is errbody's cuppa tea, the King of British Swag that IS Daniel Craig:


What better guy to have hang around me than the first and only James Bond to not give a rat's behind about whether or not his freakin' martini is shaken or stirred?! This man does not PLAY.
With Dan in my posse, I'll never have to worry about security because I KNOW he will have my back with his insane fighting skills, super fast cars, and awesome gadgets. I mean for real. Daniel Craig. The man who can kill a bad guy with any item in the room--a shoelace, a canvas bag, your mom's cross-stitched pillow--name it! And of course, I would just have him read the phone book so I could hear his drop dead gorgeous English accent. Yes, I just said that.

3) Last, but certainly not least, the final member of my Celebrity Squad would be none other than the man, G-Wash himself.



Now before you start trying to sass me saying "Hey he's dead, he doesn't count"--let the records show that the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines "celebrity" as "a famous or celebrated person." George is famous. George is still celebrated. BAM!
I mean, how much more epic can you get? The Founding Father of America, the First U.S. President, the man who's face is engraved upon currency! OH YEAH :D

So there's my crew! LOL :D Epicness incarnate.

The Moral of the Story: Jason Elliot, I just proved it. ;D


To see where the shenanigans all began, click here:http://0excuses.blogspot.com/2011/06/and-word-is-entourage.html :)

Pass the scissors

So who's excited about cutting her hair off this Thursday? This girl right here!

Seriously, when I think about the freedom, and the long-awaited end to "Ahhh-what-am-I-gonna-do-with-my-hair-wahh-wahh-wahhh!!" :( " type of days, my heart literally leaps for joy. *leap*

You see, I have almost always had long hair, with only two exceptions. One being in April when I did my "Rihanna bob," and the other being when I was an infant. Insert Aaaawwww baby picture of me here :p


So as one can imagine, this is going to be a really big step for me. It'll be an adjustment, for myself and for those who know me. But I am ready for it! So ready, in fact, that even if something were to happen to prevent me from going to my appointment on Thursday, I would straight-up take scissors to my hair myself.

Am I excited? Definitely. :) Worried? Mehh... not exactly. But, I will admit, the question that keeps bouncing around in my head is, "What if, after all this, I don't even like the cut?" And the one answer that keeps satisfactorily responding to that question is "Yo dude. It's JUST hair."

And I suppose that's true. Literally for almost my entire life, I have been known for having long hair. (I remember being SO mad as a little girl whenever adults would ask my parents in my presence if my hair was a weave. Actually, I still get pretty mad thinking about it.... ) So naturally, there's this part of me that fears that when I cut it off, I'll inadvertently lose part of my identity in the process. But how much more silly could I possibly be? What matters is what's in my head, not on it. Plus, I find my real identity in my relationship with Jesus, and I'm pretty sure He'll still like me even if my hair is short. :)

So just 4 more days till my "Big Chop," as it's called. And I am so excited. :)

Moral of the Story: The only way for growth to take place is if there is change. And that counts for hair, too. ;)

You know you were born in the 20th century if...

1. You grew up wearing windbreaker pants
2. As a kid during the summer you didn't sit in front of a Wii for 12 hours and complain of boredom. You played outside and drank these bad boys:

Oh yeah. Barrel drink.
3. You couldn't run with your portable CD player because it'd skip every 2 seconds
4. Nobody had heard of or cared about Miley, Selena, or Demi. It was all about Kenan, Kel, and Amanda
5. Your GameBoy Advance owned everyone else's GameBoy Color
6. You remember when Skip-its were actually the best toys ever


7. Hot Wheels were leading the way
8. You could never actually finish a Baby Bottle Pop
9. You knew Shia LaBeouf before he was "hot"
10. The first MP3 player you saw was the size of a remote

Moral of the Story: I was born in the 90s and I'm proud of it :)

It's not easy being green

Well... last night I went to go see The Green Lantern with some of my friends, and let me tell you, it was some movie.

Now I am just all about superheroes (Spiderman and I are like besties, just ask around), but to be honest, I always have preferred MARVEL comics over DC comics. So since The Green Lantern is a DC character, mentally I had already penalized our little green friend about 37 cool points before I even bought my ticket.

So without re-narrating the entire storyline--which would take at least 5 hours because the movie was longer than the amplified version of Gone with the Wind--here were the pros and cons of film:

Pros:
1. Ryan Reynolds is absurdly attractive. Insert gratuitous heartthrob picture here:
Translation: Only a man that looks this good could make that tacky green supersuit and silly mask look passable. *Shudder*

2. Ryan Reynolds as Hal Jordan, The Green Lantern himself, brings lighthearted humor to Hal's character with his offhanded wit and classic charm. For example, in the film, a "bad guy-esque" character threatens Hal, warning him to "Watch his back," to which Hal retorts "Um, that's impossible." <--sass. I like it.
Reynolds was able to skillfully pull off the typical "cocky-yet-likeable" hero, as well as show a sensitive and vulnerable side reminiscent of his role in The Proposal, a feat that, if anything, was worthy of an Oscar when considering how painfully uninspiring the overall story was. In short, he kept the movie together. Cool points for Ryan. <3

3. Impressive graphics. But in the 21st century, that's to be expected.

CONS:

1. Basically everything else.
The graphics were cool, yeah, but the story took SO LONG to unfold, not to mention that half the film was in the dark. (You'd think in a planet guarded by lantern bearers they could at least afford to light the place.) And the villains were so hideously ugly, I thought I was going to throw up my gummy bears in my mouth every time I saw them. Sorry, but it's true. And the resolution was, in my opinion, pretty lame. Good defeats evil, for sure, but what example are the heroes setting when it takes them 2 hours an 25 minutes to finally get unified? :/

So, if you're a Ryan Reynolds fan, go see it. He looks great in the superhero costume. But if you're looking for some quality superhero action, I recommend you keep your $30 in your pocket and save it for when The Avengers comes out in 2012. (oh yeah!)

Moral of the Story: Apparently, it really isn't easy being green.

FALE

My name is Natasha Oladokun, and I am best friends with Awkward.

I feel like I should really just save the world the trouble and wear a giant name tag that says "Prone to awkward moments, socialize at your own peril." Here are just a few of the typical, recurring FALE At Life moments that always seem to happen to me... please tell me I am not alone and that at least one of these has happened to you, too.

#1. The Head-Nod
You see someone you kinda sorta know, and in a split second you have to make a decision based on the following thoughts simultaneously wizzing through your brain: Do I act like I don't know them? Should I smile? Should I say "Hey, what's up?" How fast are they walking? Do they look like they have time to talk? What's their name, even? Oh dangit they're making eye contact!
And instead of just looking down at your shoes, you find yourself just half-smiling really awkwardly <---(Key word) and giving them one of those shy little head-nods that look like you have a twitch in your neck.

#2. Inappropriate Responses
Someone tells you "Happy Birthday!" and you instinctively respond "Thanks, you too!" FALE.

#3. Texting the wrong thing to the wrong person. Is it really my fault that I have like 6 Emily's and 9 Sarah's in my contacts list?!

#4. Laughing at something that really didn't need to be laughed at.
Me: "Your nickname as a kid was 'Bunnyboo?' HAHAHAHA!"
Friend: " 'Bunnyboo' was what my grandma used to call me. Before she died."
*awkward silence*

#5. Not knowing what to say to a stranger in an elevator.
Me: "Um, going up?"
Stranger: "We're on the ground floor, aren't we?"

#6. Introducing someone and forgetting their name.
(Actually, with some skill, this can be avoided. All you have to do is introduce the person who's name you do remember, and let them take over from there. Crisis averted.)

#7. Introducing someone and calling them by the wrong name.
(There is no way to avert this crisis. Sorry.)

#8. Walking past a friend and saying Hi to them, but they don't hear you.
Dilemma: You can either be ghetto and and start yelling, "Hey I WISH you would walk away from me like you don't know me! Yeah you! Turn aroun-- I said turn around, fool-- Mhmm yes you, ok now I believe you were about to say hello to me?" OR You can just look down at your shoes and let the rest of the world think you have no friends.

#9. Fist-bumps that never actually materialize.
And you're left. Standing there. With your fist outstretched. Not cool.

#10. Unison Greetings
You and the person you're talking to don't allow each other to answer each other's questions and end up going through the whole formal greeting completely in unison: "Hey! How are you? I'm fine, thanks..."*awkward laugh*

#11. The "Do I hug you or not?" Stance
You stretch out your arms and halfway think, "Wait, is this ok? Do I even know them like that?" So you pull back, but the other person has reached out to hug you too... and by the end of it all, the air between you both has gotten more love than you have.

#12. That 6 second pause when you and your acquaintance have exhausted all appropriate topics during a phone conversation and neither of you know what to say next.
Yep. You know the one.

#13. When you snort while laughing and try to cover it up by coughing
Never seems to work for me.

#14. When you're in a public bathroom and the person in the stall next to you is divulging their entire life's story on their cell phone
Mmmmhmm.


#15. When you trip over your own feet.
Apparently saying "Hey! Who put that there?" when there is nothing even on the ground doesn't work as a distraction.


*Sigh.*

Moral of the Story: Actually, I'm not actually sure if there even is one...