M.Swim Homecoming. We demolished Brown. The alumni are in.

It's time for things to get sloppy. Drink up, ladies.

Part 1 of the Beverly Hills reunion was pretty glorious - Lisa was hilarious perfection, Adrienne still looked like a plastic tiger tranny, Kim spoke like she was on something, Taylor gave me almost everything I could have asked for ("Tread lightly, honey"), Camille actually seemed humble and forthcoming (welp, until those last ten minutes...), and Kyle came across as a smug bitch. Huzzah!

I've had "Shake Ya Tailfeather" stuck in my head all day. What. Huh.

A man almost knocked me over on the street. He was walking incredibly fast and grunting to himself. I hope he was an Animorph.

I passed a little girl that had sequined imitation Uggs that lit up when she walked. I'm not sure if I was appalled, or just really jealous because I want my own pair.

Currently drinking: orange soda

Everyone in the frat house feels the need to shake my doorknob as hard as possible, for an extended period of time, instead of just knocking a little when they need to talk to me. Yes, my door is obviously locked after the first little jiggle, thank you. I found it amusing, and usually sit and laugh at the whole thing instead of answering the door. There you have it.

I'm on Papa John's email list. I have absolutely no idea why. I have never ordered pizza from Papa John's. The last time I had Papa John's was in 8th grade on glorious Pizza Day, which came once a month. I'm baffled.

My 21st birthday is exactly two weeks from today.

That's all.

Currently drinking: orange juice

I have spent my evening crying through multiple episodes of My So-Called Life. Ooh, Claire Danes. Tugging at my heartstrings. Angelina and I would have been besties in high school. No question.

Real Housewives of Beverly Hills reunion begins at 9:00pm. Part 1 of 2. I couldn't be more excited. I enjoy the reunions more than the actual episodes. Amen... I hope Lisa has Giggy all night. I hope Taylor's lips are on point, and I hope she shows her beautiful tears at some point. I hope Kyle is ferocious. I hope Camille is demented. I hope Kim is drunk. I hope Adrienne borrowed something from Cher's closet to wear for the occasion.

However, I doubt anything will live up to the sheer batshit madness (slash sheer genius) that went down at the latest New Jersey reunion. I mean, Danielle brought a mannequin head and tried to rip its weave out. Teresa pushed Andy. Need I say more.

Currently eating: dark chocolate almond bark

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH GAGAAAAAAAAAAAAAA DSAGILSNVLV9QO3R79GH3EFUNVAPSDJVNPW9ERUGHP212VAEV;LSCM;ODEINAWO324R98RFQOERVIBUDAVHDFL

BORN THIS WAY
WRITTEN BY: LADY GAGA
PRODUCED BY: LADY GAGA, FERNANDO GARIBAY, DJ WHITE SHADOW
MIXED AND ENGINEERED BY: DAVID RUSSEL

INTRO:
It doesn't matter if you love him, or capital H-I-M
Just put your paws up
'cause you were Born This Way, Baby

VERSE:
MY MAMA TOLD ME WHEN I WAS YOUNG
WE ARE ALL BORN SUPERSTARS

SHE ROLLED MY HAIR AND PUT MY LIPSTICK ON
IN THE GLASS OF HER BOUDOIR

"THERE'S NOTHIN WRONG WITH LOVIN WHO YOU ARE"
SHE SAID, "'CAUSE HE MADE YOU PERFECT, BABE"

"SO HOLD YOUR HEAD UP GIRL AND YOU'LL GO FAR,
LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY"

CHORUS:
I'M BEAUTIFUL IN MY WAY
'CAUSE GOD MAKES NO MISTAKES
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY

DON'T HIDE YOURSELF IN REGRET
JUST LOVE YOURSELF AND YOU'RE SET
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY

POST-CHORUS:
OOO THERE AIN'T NO OTHER WAY
BABY I WAS BORN THIS WAY
BABY I WAS BORN THIS WAY
OOO THERE AIN'T NO OTHER WAY
BABY I WAS BORN-
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY

DON'T BE A DRAG -JUST BE A QUEEN
DON'T BE A DRAG -JUST BE A QUEEN
DON'T BE A DRAG -JUST BE A QUEEN
DON'T BE!

VERSE:
GIVE YOURSELF PRUDENCE
AND LOVE YOUR FRIENDS
SUBWAY KID, REJOICE YOUR TRUTH

IN THE RELIGION OF THE INSECURE
I MUST BE MYSELF, RESPECT MY YOUTH

A DIFFERENT LOVER IS NOT A SIN
BELIEVE CAPITAL H-I-M (HEY HEY HEY)
I LOVE MY LIFE I LOVE THIS RECORD AND
MI AMORE VOLE FE YAH (LOVE NEEDS FAITH)

REPEAT CHORUS + POST-CHORUS

BRIDGE:

DON'T BE A DRAG, JUST BE A QUEEN
WHETHER YOU'RE BROKE OR EVERGREEN
YOU'RE BLACK, WHITE, BEIGE, CHOLA DESCENT
YOU'RE LEBANESE, YOU'RE ORIENT
WHETHER LIFE'S DISABILITIES
LEFT YOU OUTCAST, BULLIED, OR TEASED
REJOICE AND LOVE YOURSELF TODAY
'CAUSE BABY YOU WERE BORN THIS WAY

NO MATTER GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BI,
LESBIAN, TRANSGENDERED LIFE
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN TO SURVIVE
NO MATTER BLACK, WHITE OR BEIGE
CHOLA OR ORIENT MADE
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN TO BE BRAVE

REPEAT CHORUS

OUTRO/REFRAIN:

I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!
I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!

I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!
I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!
I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY
I WAS BORN THIS WAY HEY!


Holy shit. February 13th.

15 inches of fresh, beautiful snow in Manhattan.

Snow days are being thrown out like free gifts on an Oprah special - "YOU get a snow day! YOU get a snow day! EVERYBOOODY GETS A SNOW DAAAAA-AAAY!!!" However, Columbia trudges on. We're troopers, I guess. At least my day ends at 1:45pm. At least campus looks like Narnia.

All I want to do today is galavant through Central Park, drink too much hot chocolate, and watch some classic Disney animation... Instead, I'm drinking lukewarm Starbucks and eating a veggie breakfast sandwich. Don't ask.

I dropped my giant boot on my big right toe. It might need to be amputated.

GOODBYE, CRUEL WORLD.

I told a girl this evening that my current bald 'do is actually the result of extreme alopecia. She believed me. It was a wonderful moment - she was bewildered, I was giggling a lot. It all went very well. I hope this does not offend anyone actually suffering from alopecia or unfortunate hair loss, especially Carrie Underwood, Naomi Campbell, and Ashley Tisdale (in the first High School Musical).

An elderly woman wiped out while crossing Broadway this morning. As she went down, she screamed "Shit!" At the top of her lungs. Highlight of my day. Yes, I obviously helped her up.

Calls from strange numbers, especially when they have the area code of my hometown, give me overwhelming feelings of anxiety. Again, I'm definitely not making it to the sequel of a horror movie.

I'm attempting to write the craziest review for Man with a Movie Camera, where I'm only allowed to write about the visuals. For 1,000 words. This thing is silent. And Russian. Our prof called the exercise impossible. Wonderful. It doesn't help that about half of my class was alive when the film was initially released... in 1929.

You know how Dante places Brutus, Cassius, and Judas in the clutches of Lucifer himself at the very bottom of Hell?

In my Infero, the trio would probably be Tyra Banks, Tim Allen, and Paul Giamatti. Tim Allen being the one in Lucifer's mouth, natch.

Currently eating: cheddar Goldfish

This is genius. Even if everyone is really shiny, which is just weird.

I now hate Hailee Steinfeld.

Every year, after the Oscar noms (or the ceremony itself), there's a film or actor that receives my hatred. Without fail. Things get ugly, as I'm sure you can imagine. There is still a lingering, passionate anger towards Jeff Bridges after he stole Colin Firth's Oscar for that immaculate A Single Man performance. Now that Colin is a lock for The King's Speech, Jeff and I are on (somewhat) better terms, but still... I don't want to even talk about The Blind Side. Uh-un.

Slumdog Millionaire. The Reader. Tilda Swinton. Just throwing some examples out there. You get the gist.

Do I have qualms about hating a potentially cute 14 year old girl? Nope. Not at all. She stole a Supporting Actress nomination that should have gone to someone else. Sorry. Barbara Hershey or Mila Kunis should be in the race over that little brat. Maybe because they actually starred in supporting roles, instead of, you know, the lead one. If the Academy wants to hand out a fake Supporting nom for a lead role, it should have been for perfect Julianne Moore, my gorgeous ginger goddess.

I firmly believe there is a spot in Hell reserved for evil child actors. And for those that steal from Julianne. Satan is definitely a film aficionado.

It's snowing again. I just ate a waffle. I'm listening to Adele's live of "Set Fire to the Rain" for possibly the twelfth time in the past half hour.

I just got home from Tangled. Cute cute cute adorable. I cried a little. I want a pet chameleon. This all strangely links back to the ranting in my last post. Woah.

Unfortunately, I missed the State of the Union Address because of that little Disney gem. Hmm. Hopefully someone has it on DVR, especially so I can fast forward through all of the clapping. Or should I make a drinking game out of the entire thing...? Debatable. Tempting. Keep you posted.

Arianna, my own real-life A, is an absolute godsend. We had a glorious impromptu "dinner" this evening, that consisted more of beer than actual food. Well, for me at least. Such debauchery naturally led into an extended conversation, capped off by our endless (and, at the moment, unfortunately unsuccessful) search for love. We decided that we could potentially adopt kids together, if things get especially bleak. We also decided we should look for a pair of twins to date, because our taste seems to line up. I'm okay with both of these plans.

Accomplished today: (severe) buzz cut + shave

Whenever I pull this look, I always feel like I should play a 13 year old boy in a modestly-successful-on-the-road-to-cult-phenomenon-and-movie-adaptation-a-decade-later apocalyptic sci-fi television series where everyone wears white robes, takes odd pink pills to ward off aging, lives in an awkward commune built on the tops of trees, and have strange reptiles as pets...

I read The Giver too many times in middle school and have a warped sense of what's normal. Just putting that out there.

I'm receiving a lot of grief about using my Mac's Photo Booth for my current Facebook profile picture. I ate an extra slice of pizza at dinner to deal with all of the stress. It was entirely worth it.

A boy in my class sketched a picture of me today. This was our second class this semester, his first time speaking to me. I am equal parts flattered and mildly creeped out. His name is also Alex.

Compared to yesterday, the weather is quite balmy. I considered breaking out my two-piece this afternoon, until reconsidering. You all are welcome. Pictures of the beach are currently causing brief, intense periods of depression.

I keep getting emails from Barnard, Columbia's all-girl sister college, about job applications. I hope Barnard is expanding their scope for employment to both genders, and does not think my Columbia email address is that of a female student.

It's snowing.

People are calling this a "blizzard." I'm laughing.

For some reason, every snowstorm in New York is now labeled "Snowpocalypse." I think there have already been four such end-all-be-all events in the past month and a half, which doesn't really make sense if you think about it. The snow is all very gorgeous for now, but it is killing any form of motivation I have in going to class to talk about how wildly frustrating (if occasionally incredibly inspired) I found Bolaño's Nazi Literature in the Americas. I also have an irrational fear that my professor will fake fun of me whenever I open my mouth to speak.

Currently eating: sesame bagel with butter

I wish I could eat my feelings after Pretty Little Liars. I should have saved my dinner. Spencer gave me everything I have ever wanted from a questionable high schooler covering up secrets about the murder of her bitchy ex-bestie slash "queen bee" slash why were they even friends with Alison to begin with? Eh. Bravo, Spencer, great job tonight... Props to drunk Emily for flasking away the memories of her newfound lesbian lover Maya (who is trapped at scary Christian rehab camp in the woods), and proceeding to absolutely lose it. Meanwhile, Aria is having severe jealousy issues, which could be easily resolved by putting pink streaks back in her hair and getting in touch with her wild side again... Or, umm, not sleeping with her English teacher.

Oscar nominations are announced tomorrow morning! It's like Christmas Eve... if Christmas itself was a month and two days later. That equates to far too much anticipation. Anticipation to the point that I actually might explode.

Who wants to see Angelina Ballerina: The Musical? Is the little black hat artwork at the end of the (sappy, predictable) trailer for Waiting for Forever supposed to evoke Waiting for Godot? At least Rachel Bilson looks pretty. I miss The OC. Sigh.

My coach called me Lady Gaga today. He called my lane-mate, to be know here as BWL, Ke$ha. I couldn't have been happier.

In other news, the students in my Writing Film Criticism class have the average age of 47. Things are drastic. I came in five minutes late because of practice, and immediately felt like a baby. Awesome.

There is a repeat of tonight's episode of Pretty Little Liars (I couldn't watch the original airing at 8:00pm because of said Film Criticism class) on right now. It would probably be grossly irresponsible to watch, given the amount of reading I have to do tonight. That is exactly why ABC Family is on right now.

Currently eating: pasta with garlic sauce

A somewhat elderly (and it appears most likely senile) woman was behind me in line for a salad at the grocery store (Westside at 110th & Broadway, natch). As I finished my salad order, she asked if I was related to Justin Timberlake, because we look "strikingly alike" and have "similar speech patterns." Those are in quotations because they are direct quotes.

I wasn't sure if she was joking or, umm, joking, so I just laughed uncomfortably and swiftly walked towards the cash register.

I'm still trying to figure out how I should feel about this encounter.

Currently eating: my favorite Westside salad, 'The Summer Farmer' - baby spinach leaves, blue cheese, apples, strawberries, blueberries, carrots, dried cranberries, walnuts, balsamic vinaigrette dressing

I woke up ill. The heater in my room is not working. I am living in my giant parka that's for swim meets. I look like a sad eskimo of sorts. Or, what I imagine a sad eskimo looks like when he is not surrounded by tundra, an igloo, and seal blubber. It's supposed to snow 18-20 inches on Wednesday, and I'm struggling to hide my incredible elation over the opportunity to snuggle up in bed with a good movie. Regardless, remember summer? Let's go to Australia!

A beautiful little birdie named Lauren sent me the new Adele album, 21. To say the thing has been on repeat all morning would be a severe understatement. It's like that big, beautiful British woman is in the room singing directly to me. If you can get your hands on the thing before its official February 22nd release, do it. Yep. I mean, if that piano intro to "Set Fire to the Rain" doesn't twist up your insides, I'm not sure you have real emotions...

I also fixed Facebook chat this morning. I can sleep without night terrors now.

Currently eating: croissant 

Facebook chat is literally the worst thing ever invented. It makes me laugh. It makes me cry. It makes me dance. It makes me contemplate suicide. It makes me want to take shots of absinthe. Nothing has ever played with my emotions more.

:putnam:

I had macaroni and cheese for dinner. With chicken. It was perfect.

SHAMELESS PLUG!

My other blog is http://aqsmith.blogspot.com/. It is primarily for film reviews I write.

I take myself very seriously over there. That should sound like a warning.

I've received numerous texts regarding my whereabouts from last night.

With no embarrassment in recounting my evening, the worst mood ever (combined with the headache from Hell) convinced me that a "short nap" would fix all problems... Famous last words. I would never survive in a horror movie.

When I awoke at 4:34am still wearing my jeans, sweater, and boots, I realized that my plan went horribly awry. I had a long dream regarding a ridiculous road trip. I believe I was in a Camry, possibly from 1994. I believe my assistant swim coach was driving. I cannot explain any of these things.

I did sleep over 12 hours for the first time since preschool, so it's possible that I lost the battle, but still won the war. I don't think that saying is applicable here.

Currently eating: ice cubes

What do you say in a first blog post?

I just spent the past hour deciding between three pictures of macaroni and cheese. Instead of reading Roberto Bolaño's Nazi Literature in the Americas. I clearly have my priorities straight. I'm also clearly craving macaroni and cheese right now.

Speaking of which, I wish someone had made a photo-diary of Oprah's 30-pound mac 'n' cheese binge after Beloved flopped... By "someone," I mean Gayle. And by "photo-diary," I mean lesbian porn.

Currently eating: pineapple